Earlier…
The red-haired woman in the back of the car glowed softly, her radiance carried across from the back seat to the driver of the uber who drove quietly, mesmerized, unable -no- incapable of forming words to start a conversation. Through his driver’s mirror, he occasionally stole quick glances at her, each new one leaving a lasting impression and only confirmed what thought he already knew – ‘She must be a model of some kind’. She looked like she’d been cut clean out of a magazine. Feeling enough time had passed since he last looked, and eager not to lose the sublime subtlety he’d employed in spying on her so far, he casually raised his eyes to the driver’s mirror for another glance. This time, he found her staring straight back into his eyes, her face flat, her eyes cold, unflinching-staring deep into the depths of his soul and combing through every perverted scenario he’d already imagined. He smiled, awkwardly at first, the slowly let it widen to cover his face. Play it cool you idiot. She might just like you.
“Shouldn’t you be looking at the road ahead of you?’, she smiled as she delivered the words that shot through his mind as if from a sniper’s rifle, sending his composure crumbling, and his thoughts racing in a frenzy to gather what was left to deliver an appropriate response.
“Er… This is a s-self driving c-car”, he managed back. Really? That’s the best I could come up with?
“I doubt it is, and you still need to look ahead and not stare at me”, she calmly replied.
“As you wish, Ma’am”, he smiled weakly and tipped his hat. Grabbing hair, he gathered he was without a hat. Man down! I repeat! Man down!
Catherine watched bemused as the driver awkwardly scratched his hair then turn his eyes abruptly to stare ahead of him. She felt almost sorry as she watched his forehead glisten with what could only be sweat. She let her eyes drift out of her window as the car came to a temporary stop. “Stupid traffic”, she heard the driver mutter to himself. The rolled-up window of the car next to them reflected her face back at her. Face made up, her hair combed neatly to lay softly on her shoulders, she painted the picture of a pageant queen. She smiled softly. I do clean up good, don’t I? She looked down as her phone beeped twice-a text message from the target. He was already at the restaurant it seemed. He must really like me. She smiled gently to herself. Perfect. She took a selfie quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the infatuated driver. She failed. The shutter sound drew him to peer quickly over his shoulder. Catherine smiled as she lowered her phone. The driver turned abruptly to focus on his job. She hit send after composing a text to her date. Time to reel him in.
Now would be the wrong time to get distracted Cat. Focus on the job at hand.
The smile on her face disappeared as quickly as it had formed. She checked to see if the driver was peeping-he wasn’t.
“I know, I know”, she sounded enraged at the reminder.
If you did, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in right now.
“Hey, back off! Okay!?”, she was visibly angry now.
In the front seat, the driver raised his head at the exclamation from his passenger. “Everything okay back there Miss?”, he asked.
Learn to suppress your emotions.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”, Catherine lied to the driver, who, pleased at her smile, returned to focus on his job. Silently, to herself, she added “Give me a break, will you? I got this.”
If you say so.
Cat sighed out loud. Max was right. She couldn’t afford to screw up another mission. Her botched mission list was up to 3 already, 2 more and she would be discharged from her role as agent. “Serenity Now.”, she whispered to herself.
“Alright, let’s go over the plan a final time. Max?”
Wise course of action. First, we arrive at the restaurant to meet the target. His anomaly cannot be left unchecked by the agency any longer. After you initiate contact…
Cat let her mind drift as Max droned on. The agency. Everything was about the fucking agency. Recruited at a younger age by another agent, Cat had spent most of her entire life training for the field. Over time, she had come to hate the letters, A.D.B, and what they stood for – the Anomaly Detection Bureau. Recent years gone by had come with them an unprecedented level of focus by the general public and mass media on issues formerly believed to be fringing on borderline insanity and even decadence. A far less hostile and critical observation had, in recent times been employed in handling delicate issues like sexuality, religion, and politics-the result of which was a festering environment, that allowed previously tabooed lifestyle choices and ideals be seen through a more objective lens that had served in the re-education of plenty, and the liberation of even more – to ‘be themselves’, whatever that meant. Among the demographic of the previously damned were a particular group the agency focused on – those with multiple personalities.
If this all seems too much, perhaps you need to write it down Miss.
Jolted back to reality, Cat stared into the unamused, almost angry face of Max, her partner.
“What?”, she asked.
If you cannot summon the mental faculty to treat this mission with the utmost importance, then perhaps, it would be prudent that I lead, Catherine.
Cat smiled weakly at her partner. She hated that tone. She hated it when Max called her Catherine. She frowned as she replied.
“Thank you, but I’ve got this.”
Inside, she was a tangle of questions, an emotional cocktail. What if this goes sideways too? What if I don’t have this? She was certain Max had resumed outlining her plan, but Cat couldn’t hear her voice. She was tuned out to the sound of the tires on the tarred road. The traffic had eased up. Soon she would arrive at what may turn out to be her most important mission. She let her mind wander to her first training after recruitment…
Standing in a room with 6 other new recruits. They had all been informed that they had one thing in common, that they’d been recruited because they all had alter egos they could interact with. Cat looked around at the other faces when the agent had finished her lecture. You all see people and hear voices too? In time, she had come to know what they really were. Sick people. Each and every one of them was sick in the head. And they were being taught to weaponize their illness. What the agency did was track civilians with MPMS, multiple personality manifestation syndrome and try to contain their anomalies before they got out of hand. The Hosts-the agency’s term for anyone with the syndrome- were a distinct group of individuals with multiple personalities, that had full control and ascendancy over each character. The permutations were almost limitless. The hosts could hold conversations between personalities, delegate specific brain functions to each personality, and in some reported severe cases create more personas when a total control was asserted. Those were the real threats, as determined of course, by the agency.
The calmer side of the job description involved rehabilitation and teaching the hosts how to deal with their pack, once they were judged harmless by the agency-many among them were convinced they had lost their minds when they started seeing and talking to their pack. The more hectic side, hers, involved taking down and bringing in rogues who utilized the syndrome to their advantage, almost becoming advanced humans to the regular person. She smirked. The infamous Edu Mensah case had been resounded inside the training halls till every recruit committed it to rote; a special case where a man had manifested up to six different personalities and kept them handy. He eluded the agency for years, often with the help of his pack-the agency term for the alter egos.
The high single beep notification hauled Cat back to the present to gaze at her phone.
“Ma-ma’am? I could take a shortcut up ahead on the right and get you there f-faster. Would you like me to?”, the driver spoke up apprehensively, startling Cat.
“Sure, that would be lovely. Thank you.”, she flashed a casual smile at him. He smiled awkwardly and turned. Cat chuckled. The poor man was smitten. She sent a quick update of the route change to the target. A pack of three inside one host. You’re already halfway to Edu, aren’t you?
“Okay Max, let’s go over the plan one final time.”
Ten minutes later, the uber slowed to a stop in front of the restaurant and Cat stepped out with poise. Fifty metres away stood the target, Eugene Quao and his pack. She smiled and waved with her right hand, and quietly pressed a hidden button inside of her purse with her left hand.
Game on.
Slice-Of-Quao 