Juncture 5.4

I swung my legs up over the side of the bed, shaking it as little as possible. I walked out into the hall and went into the small bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush that was sitting on the edge of the sink, squirted a little bit of toothpaste onto it, and began brushing.

I looked into the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. There was a healthy amount of scruff on my face, but not quite what would constitute a full beard. I spat, opened up the cabinet behind the mirror, and pulled out my electric trimmer.

After several minutes the growth on my face had been cut down to a manageable shadow. I turned the trimmer off and stowed it away again. I went back into the bedroom to get dressed.

I pulled open the closet in my room, and selected a pair of khakis. After that, I grabbed a dark brown oxford shirt and slid it on, buttoning it up as I went.

I grabbed a brown belt, socks, brown loafers, and a plain, light-blue tie, and assembled them in all of the proper places. Then I walked over to the small kitchen that came with the loft to prepare breakfast.

There were a couple of eggs in a cardboard carton in the fridge, and I picked up two of them to fry. I also cut two pieces of toast off of the loaf of bread on the counter, and put them on a plate.

I grabbed a pan from the cupboard over the stove and pulled out an iron pan, putting it on the stove and turning on the heat.

Shoot. I had forgotten the butter. I went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a pat, and put it down to sizzle on the hot pan. I placed the bread on it and held it down for a few seconds with my fingers, then flipped it over. As it toasted, I located a clean spatula for the eggs.

I pulled the toast out of the pan and cracked the eggs into it. After several minutes I carefully flipped them, being careful as to not crack the yolks. When they were done I laid them across the toast and pierced the yolk with one of the pointed corners of the spatula. They oozed out, thick and yellow.

I grabbed the plate and walked over to the small circular table just outside of the kitchen, where I left it out, along with a fork, knife, and fresh-brewed coffee. I had things to do.

I grabbed my hat from the rack near the door as I left. It was a light tan fedora with a newscard in the rim. It had gotten me into more places than any acting I could have done. That, along with a matching long coat finished my ensemble. I exited the apartment, locked the door behind me, and began the long walk down seven flights of stairs.

I exited into the warm air of Chicago. A sudden strong breeze almost blew the hat off of my head, but I grabbed it quickly to ensure that it stayed where it belonged. At first the wind had bothered me, but I had grown to appreciate it, as I had much of the local area.

It was funny, it didn’t really feel like that much time had passed. It almost felt as if I had just gone on my first mission yesterday again. I laughed, letting the fresh air seep into my lungs. I was such a novice back then it almost made me cringe.

I walked down the side road until I hit Main Street. Once there I stood on the corner, looking around. This had been my modus operandi for the time that I’d been here. I was a member of the press; I was on the lookout for a story. If nothing presented itself, then I wasn’t harming anybody just by standing there.

The details of this mission weren’t very specific, although I had, from the time that I’d spent here, learned what it was. Unfortunately – or fortunately, from my point of view – I had to befriend a few key people in order to accomplish my goal. This meant that I’d spent upward of two years here.

Two years pretending to be someone who I’m not was exceedingly difficult. I had gotten to keep my first name, but I had grown more used to calling myself “Richards” than “Antony”. Of course, the years of travel and missions before that had also helped prepare me for that.

Years?
I shook my head as an odd shiver ran up my spine, as if someone had stepped on my grave.

I pulled out the notebook that was in my coat pocket, shortly followed by the fancy pen I kept with me at all times. These, along with my hat, had combined to form a nearly impenetrable defense for anyone who would see me and think to question my motives.

The target I had for today was a little guy who ran a jewelry shop. He was robbed a couple of days ago, by some very heavily-armed thugs, and I had a sneaking suspicion that they could be connected to the guys I was looking for. They had weapons that were apparently like nothing that the owner had ever seen, weird guns that had glowing ends and fired beams of light.

He could have been crazy… or they could have access to technology beyond what was available here. The guy I was looking for was known to the OST as King, and he was a weapons manufacturer. He had a scary TA, one that somehow let him make weapons that hadn’t been invented yet. He could build things that he had no way of knowing how they worked.

It was worrisome, to say the least. With a sigh, I stepped off of the corner and began walking toward the jewelry store.