[centre][img]https://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/788x362q90/661/CIbMZx.png[/img][/centre] The call had come late – even for her. She would let it ring for just a few more moments. At the balcony of her personal penthouse, she tipped the chair and leaned back and forth with both feet on the fence and some red wine in hand. The silk kimono covering her, vibrated slightly in the night-breeze. Somehow it felt like someone out there might sit under similar circumstances in this very moment, but that was crazy. [i]Just a few more sips and whoever is calling have gotten the point[/i], she thought to herself. As the point must have arrived on the other end, Kate peeked at the device rerouting the connection several hundred times before picking up the phone. One couldn’t have the cops trace it and ruining everything. [i]Line secure…[/i] “Speak…” she mumbled into it. “Is this The X?” it came from the other end. “Speak...” It was not unusual to have people ask dumb questions. There was no second time you could hire Kate, so most were inexperienced or downright armatures. It was a man. He introduced himself under an obvious fake name and told some unlikely details about himself. Truth returned in his voice at last, as he explained he had gotten her number from a friend. What followed was a long, long story about deceit, tragedy and the need for revenge. Just as emotional as it was angry. A hard drive in need of destruction became the climax of the request. Only when the tale ended did Kate send back a sign of life while chewing on the words used. She removed her bare feet from the edge and spoke in a slightly harder tone. “Look, it seems like whoever gave you this number is a very good friend, but as a very good friend he should have begged you not to use it. I don’t do personal drama, because the pain you feel will be just a tiny bit easier tomorrow and the day after. So do yourself a favor… go live your life while you still have one.” “That’s what I’m trying to do!” the male voice insisted. “No, calling me because of personal feelings is not a way to live, dude; that is a way to die. Burn this number, go taste life.” Hanging up like this meant that the other’s phone could never reach her again. Her expensive systems were nice and caring like that. Not even if she had been in need had she accepted a job motivated by pain – not that kind of pain, anyway. And now she was back to letting the city below reflect its light in her blue eyes. It was an [i]all you can eat buffet[/i]. For someone like her it was x-mas all year long. Gone were the cold nights and pathetic jobs for mere coin, replaced with penthouse, pool and expensive wines. Clients meeting on her terms, and a lair of only the most awesome military gadgets available out there. Young, fairly rich, able to get it whenever however she liked. The American Dream times a hundred. Some might call Kate’s lifestyle unjust profiteering, but she called it ‘simple progress by an opportunist.’ Kate Lockheart had almost experienced boredom, as the biggest challenge presented itself: The Government… [i]the god damn Federal Government.[/i] The next logical step to escape a life where only soft beds existed. But to do the impossible; to take on the very society she lived in, would require a little more than a clear head and quick body… [i]However it is very possible. All kingdoms have their period and then they crumble.[/i] Those thoughts resonated well in her head. It was hard to avoid the smell of sweet perfume wherever you chose to go in the penthouse. Souvenirs from all over the globe in a tasteful mix of stolen goods. A personal favorite was the Chinese scroll above the flat screen. But though her current outfit originated from the same place it was the mahogany table she headed to. Knowing was half the battle, and there the files were. A second reading would be required before she took them on, a third, a fourth even. [i]‘Shadow Boxer, Singularity, Lady Liberty… Eva, Gardner! NIGHTINGALE!!!’[/i] The names just continued on. [i]A frickin’ death squad.[/i] One with the power to heal any wound. Then there was the one who could become metal. Then a bloody master of metal. Creating telekinetic constructs out of some kind of energy that barely seemed proven to even exist. And then we had the two that could fly… [i]yeah, fly.[/i] Those were the really bad ones, the ones that could truly follow in her pace. But none of these bastards were your everyday goons or simple hired professionals. These were capes, enforcers… they fought battles with a strength bullets could never match. Despite the research Kate did not plan on actually wrestling these people. But, but, buuut if they were to show up she needed to be ready. For now the people in the photos’ only real disadvantage was that they had put themselves on display for her to watch. Painted a giant bullseye on their self-righteous capes. But somewhere behind the stolen journals lied mistakes. There always was. Mistakes and flaws. And as long as the government didn’t even know Kate existed she could pick the fights. In one of the other rooms a fire was reported through Kate's stolen police radio, signaling the hell she was about to start.