like pancakes and maple syrup inside. They proceeded directly across the room and sat on both sides of the man, Smythe on the left and Marina on the right. She rubbed her fingers to squeeze extra venom towards the tips of her sharp nails. It gave her a tingling sensation.
"Hello," she said with a cheerful smile.
The man covered his notes with a blank sheet of paper. "Hello."
"I'm Sadie. What's your name?"
"John," he said in a suspicious tone. "Is there a reason you're sitting at my table?" He glanced at Smythe.
"We heard you're a writer. We're writers too!"
"That's great. If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone. Writing is a solitary pursuit, as I'm sure you know."
"Come on." She nudged his arm. "Tell us what your story is about. Maybe we can give you some constructive feedback."
"I don't think so." He shook his head.
Smythe said, "I bet you're writing about all the strange suicides around here."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," John stated flatly.
Marina knew he was lying. Tension around the eyes and a slight hesitation in his voice gave him away. However, she wouldn't get the whole truth just by talking to him. At best she might provoke an informative reaction or a small slip of the tongue. Still, it was worth a try.
"What if I promise to sleep with you?" She nuzzled his neck and sniffed nice cologne. "Will you talk to us then?"
"Hey!" John pushed her away. "Don't touch me!" He looked around and lowered his voice. "Please."
He doesn't want to attract attention, she realized. "What's wrong? You don't like women? Then maybe you'd like to fuck my friend instead?"
Smythe winked and licked his lips.
John shuddered. "No. Leave me alone, or I'll call the police. I swear I will."
Marina decided to change tactics. "Calm down. We're actually from White Flame counter-espionage."
Smythe immediately assumed a strict military posture.
"Huh?" John's eyes opened wide.
"We're just testing you," Marina said. "It's nothing personal. Everybody on the project gets the same treatment."
"How do I know you work for counter-espionage? Let me see some identification."
"Actually, I need to see yours first."
He reached for his wallet. Then he stopped and pointed at her. "Almost got me. You know I'm not supposed to show my badge outside the fence."
She raised her eyebrows. "You still screwed up. You pretty much admitted you work for White Flame. You blew your cover."
"That was just..."
"Seriously, you have no idea who we are. Maybe we're elite operatives from a top secret organization that's hostile to White Flame."
He stared at her, and his face became pale.
"Just kidding." She patted his shoulder. "But we will have to report this infraction."
"Hold on." He cleared his throat. "No harm was done. Is there any way we can forget about my tiny lapse?"
"I suppose that's possible, if you give us something in return."
He furrowed his brow. "Like what?"
"Information is our preferred currency," she said.
"I'm just a low level sociologist. All I do is collect observational data. Most of the time I'm not even sure what I'm observing. What information do you think I have?"
"Think hard."
"Hey!" He narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to get me into even more trouble."
Marina decided she had pushed this conversation as far as she dared. She jabbed her fingernails into his neck and injected a good dose of venom. His eyes rolled up and he slumped over.
"Grab the notebook," she told Smythe.
She took John's wallet.
Smythe and Marina quickly left the restaurant, turned, and headed down the street.
"It's always a pleasure to watch you work, ma'am." he said.
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm not certain we accomplished much, but it was entertaining. Sorry about calling you gay."
"Just part of the job."
"That reminds me. I noticed you and Jack have been going out together in the evenings on a regular basis. If it's none of my business, you don't have to say anything."
"It's fine," Smythe said. "There is a brothel we both
"Hello," she said with a cheerful smile.
The man covered his notes with a blank sheet of paper. "Hello."
"I'm Sadie. What's your name?"
"John," he said in a suspicious tone. "Is there a reason you're sitting at my table?" He glanced at Smythe.
"We heard you're a writer. We're writers too!"
"That's great. If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone. Writing is a solitary pursuit, as I'm sure you know."
"Come on." She nudged his arm. "Tell us what your story is about. Maybe we can give you some constructive feedback."
"I don't think so." He shook his head.
Smythe said, "I bet you're writing about all the strange suicides around here."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," John stated flatly.
Marina knew he was lying. Tension around the eyes and a slight hesitation in his voice gave him away. However, she wouldn't get the whole truth just by talking to him. At best she might provoke an informative reaction or a small slip of the tongue. Still, it was worth a try.
"What if I promise to sleep with you?" She nuzzled his neck and sniffed nice cologne. "Will you talk to us then?"
"Hey!" John pushed her away. "Don't touch me!" He looked around and lowered his voice. "Please."
He doesn't want to attract attention, she realized. "What's wrong? You don't like women? Then maybe you'd like to fuck my friend instead?"
Smythe winked and licked his lips.
John shuddered. "No. Leave me alone, or I'll call the police. I swear I will."
Marina decided to change tactics. "Calm down. We're actually from White Flame counter-espionage."
Smythe immediately assumed a strict military posture.
"Huh?" John's eyes opened wide.
"We're just testing you," Marina said. "It's nothing personal. Everybody on the project gets the same treatment."
"How do I know you work for counter-espionage? Let me see some identification."
"Actually, I need to see yours first."
He reached for his wallet. Then he stopped and pointed at her. "Almost got me. You know I'm not supposed to show my badge outside the fence."
She raised her eyebrows. "You still screwed up. You pretty much admitted you work for White Flame. You blew your cover."
"That was just..."
"Seriously, you have no idea who we are. Maybe we're elite operatives from a top secret organization that's hostile to White Flame."
He stared at her, and his face became pale.
"Just kidding." She patted his shoulder. "But we will have to report this infraction."
"Hold on." He cleared his throat. "No harm was done. Is there any way we can forget about my tiny lapse?"
"I suppose that's possible, if you give us something in return."
He furrowed his brow. "Like what?"
"Information is our preferred currency," she said.
"I'm just a low level sociologist. All I do is collect observational data. Most of the time I'm not even sure what I'm observing. What information do you think I have?"
"Think hard."
"Hey!" He narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to get me into even more trouble."
Marina decided she had pushed this conversation as far as she dared. She jabbed her fingernails into his neck and injected a good dose of venom. His eyes rolled up and he slumped over.
"Grab the notebook," she told Smythe.
She took John's wallet.
Smythe and Marina quickly left the restaurant, turned, and headed down the street.
"It's always a pleasure to watch you work, ma'am." he said.
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm not certain we accomplished much, but it was entertaining. Sorry about calling you gay."
"Just part of the job."
"That reminds me. I noticed you and Jack have been going out together in the evenings on a regular basis. If it's none of my business, you don't have to say anything."
"It's fine," Smythe said. "There is a brothel we both
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