I came to say hello.

[blindpuppet]

[A lot is changing for Enis in a very short period of time. Freedom has its own cost and she's paying for it in full. With her fathers current work destroyed and his notes locked within her head she takes flight with a few samples and materials. Her destination is Seattle.

When she arrives she's wearing a black tank top, dark jeans and combat boots. She's never been allowed the chance to have style and despite the amount of cleavage showing, getting into this club in a usual way would be difficult. Vibrant blue eyes stare at the guard at the door as she steps forward. There is a large black dufflebag in her hand and she walks with the sort of confidence that many yearn for. Enis pauses in front of the werewolf, her expression serious.]

James Taylor, Born in 1982 in Asheville North Carolina, Social Security number 116-47-4831. I am here to see Clayton Young.

Take me to him.

[Her voice is firm and only loud enough for her and the werewolf to hear. She isn't going to broadcast any information about him unless he gives her trouble.]

Or do I need to tell you about your boss too?

Comments

[alittlebitofhell]

[James Taylor, Born in 1982 in Asheville, NC, narrows his eyes at this newcomer and is immediately on the defensive. His senses tell him he doesn't need to call the big guy, just yet, even though she's clearly here to see him.

He holds up a hand.]

You have an appointment miss?

[blindpuppet]

[Enis's eyebrow rose at the werewolf, a light smile teasing her lips.]

Does it look like I have an appointment? [The answer is obvious.]

I need to talk to Clayton or if you'd rather I refer to him by number. I didn't think the hidden would want me to broad cast their involvement here.

[alittlebitofhell]

[James holds up a hand one more time, moving the other to the radio transmitter on his ear, speaking quickly.]

Boss, there's a chick at the door looking to speak with you.

She got an appointment?

I don't think that's an issue, sir.

[There's a sigh from the other end of the transmission.]

Get her name. Send her in. Tell her to meet me at the stairs.

Roger that. [James Taylor of 1982 looked back to Enis and stepped aside.] Go on in. He'll meet you at the stairs. They're at the back.

[blindpuppet]

[Enis flashes him a smile before reaching behind her and pulling a gun from her hip. She hands it to him, making a show of the fact that her finger isn't near the trigger, as she walks passed him.]

Thank you. I'll be back for that.

[She doesn't hesitate as she walks inside. She ignores the hostess who watches her as she steps towards the back of the club and then ignores the bar tender. While her expression is calm her chip is running, pulling up escape routs as well as information about the personnel of the club.

When she gets to the bottom of the steps she stops. If anything she's good at following directions.]

[alittlebitofhell]

[From the security room upstairs, Clay watches the woman enter. She has a purposeful gait. She's here for one thing, one thing only, and she either not paid to be subtle or she's working on her own and doesn't give a shit about whether or not she's obvious.

Which means she's not an assassin. He heads downstairs to hold up his end of the deal.]

A little birdy told me you were looking for Clayton Young.

[He speaks once he reaches the mid-way landing. Once he was close enough to her, her mind threw him off. There was something seriously fucked up about this chick.]

[blindpuppet]

[Enis looks up at him and releases a slow breath. Clayton young, 8576690ZED, she knows about him. She even remembers him but that information will do little to help her now.]

Don't shit with me Clay. [Her eyes narrow up at him.] We need to talk in private.

[Her tone is steady but things are not okay. A small part of her wonders if he remembers those months where he was sedated and tested but she isn't about to be the one to remind him of it.]

[alittlebitofhell]

[He narrows his eyes right back at her, glaring down at her.]

Only my friends get to call me Clay, sweetheart. You want privacy, fine, but we're not friends.

[He turns and heads back up the stairs to the security room, lined with banks of computer screens, showing realtime feeds from all their security cameras, and the one-way windows that overlooked the club floor below. He heads inside, holding the door for her and locking it behind them both, then motions to a chair in front of a control console.]

Name first.

[blindpuppet]

Well the video's suggest otherwise Clayton.

[Enis follows behind him, her eyes gauging his reactions with a passing interest as they move inside. She places her bag on the chair. She isn't really interested in appearing to be any shorter.]

I am Enis Edrin.

[Her hands lightly rest on her hips as she turns towards him. She isn't afraid of his stature or of death. Her death would be a blessing but it'd have to wait until after this.]

I am here to talk to you about Frederick Sameel and his projects.

[alittlebitofhell]

[He files her name away for future reference, his expression darkening at the mention of Sameel, his eyes emotionless, blank.]

What about him, Enis?

[blindpuppet]

Since you were kind enough to kill him. [She begins in a very no-nonsense tone, moving to the black duffle. She zips it open and then steps away allowing Clayton to see inside.]

At least 5 of his projects no longer have someone controlling them while the others have been sold doing god knows what.

I have information to track them down but I can't kill them. That's where you come in. This is what's left of his research and at most it's data and blood samples that might help us track anyone I can't find.

[alittlebitofhell]

[Clay nods, looking at the Duffel bag, then back to this girl, reaching for it and zipping it back up.]

And I should just take all this in stride, Enis Edrin? I work alone.

[blindpuppet]

You need me.

[Her arms cross in front of her as she glares up at Clay.]

The exact locations are in my head. If you want them then I am helping. It's my fathers fucked up work that's out there and I want them put down. You got out, I don't know how and I don't really care but I know you're strong enough.

The soldiers after you were stronger. Can you handle it?

[alittlebitofhell]

I don't need anyone. [That wasn't precisely true, but Clay's pride wouldn't let him admit otherwise, at least not to her.]

But the information's useful. It'll make this quick. [He smirks slightly.] I've got a lot more than freak enhancements that make me stronger.

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

[This time Enis has her bag and laptop with her. The strap hangs over her shoulder as she steps up to the closed club, her knuckles rapping softly at the door. James is the one who answers the door. Her clothes are the same black pants and black tank top that once again give James a nice view of her cleavage.]

It's nice to see you again.

[He nods his head and waves her inside.]

Keep your gun. clay told me you'd be coming.

I'm glad you remember me.

[She slips inside as the sun continues it's decent towards the horizon. There wasn't anyone around though. It'd still be an hour before the club opened. Once inside she follows James to the bar and waits there for him to fetch Clay.]

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[James leaves her at the bar, where preparations are underway to open. The large African behind the bar was never registered with any government, so he was never on any official record. He looks to her as she is left behind and nods to her.]

You were here last night.

[His accent, Swahili, is thick, but manageable.]

Here, I am called Khan.

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

[Enis gives Khan a curious look before nodding her head. It isn't any secret that she'd been here the night before.]

Just here? What were you called before Khan?

[She's interested in him since she knows nothing about him. He walks differently than what she's used too.]

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[Khan offers her a slight smile.]

My mother called me Sefu, her sword. No one has called me that name in many years.

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

[She studies him for a moment before nodding her head. There is a white glint that flashes briefly in her eyes that Khan is most likely to notice if he'd been looking over at her.]

It's a good name. [Her name is a variant of the word friend derived from the Turkish and Celtic spellings which doesn't suit her at all. His name, it seems like it fits him.]

Where are you from Khan?

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[He rolls a large shoulder slightly.] It is a name. What is yours?

[He looks pleased. It isn't often he gets to speak of his homeland.] I was born in Lower Tanzania, but moved inland. I claimed territory in the Tshuapa province of the Congo. Deep jungle. Much solitude. [He shakes his head.] Or so I thought. Humans found diamonds in my hills.

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

My name is Enis.

[She listened to his story, her fingers drumming silently on the polished counter top.]

I've heard of that place. [She's heard of everywhere.] It was one of many places that suffer deforestation. Regulations don't reach that far though there are several groups of people trying. [As in, she found their websites online.] Is it hard to consider this place home, when you're from somewhere with so much more than this?

[Enis prefers cities but she knows that others don't.]

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[Khan nods, his expression solemn.] Yes. The Congo is torn too much by war for regulations.

[And it was at this moment that Clay walked up, nodding to the large man behind the bar.] Khan Man.

[Khan nods in response, as though he's used to this greeting.]

I'm not interrupting anything, am I?

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

You aren't, considering I'm here to see you.

[Enis turns towards Clay, pulling a folder of paper from her shoulder bag. She places it on the counter in front of him and waits.]

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[Clay takes the folder from her and nods.]

Why don't we go over this in my office?

[He wasn't taking her to his real office. That was underground, and he didn't trust her not to upload the information to...wherever, schematics, etc. He had an office in the club, too, though.]

Follow me.

Next Afternoon

[blindpuppet]

[Enis is aware of more than Clay knows though she sees no reason to let him in on her secrets. He probably guessed that she has a chip too but she hasn't alluded to what hers does yet.

She nods her head at Khan, offering the man recognition before turning and following Clay. She's seen the security room, she's curious about his 'office']

You can take your time to read it.

[She has no plans except to hunt those on her list.]

Next Afternoon

[alittlebitofhell]

[Clay nods, but will make quick work of the folder regardless. That's his training talking.

He leads her into the back halls and up a different flight of stairs. There are others moving through these hallways, but they just nod to Clay. They know by know, when he has his business face on, there's no reason to try to start a conversation with him.

After mounting the stairs, the walk was another long corridor before he pushed open a door at the end of the hall. In it was a desk on which sad a pretty nice laptop, a filing cabinet, a telephone, and behind his desk, a large oil painting of Paris. It almost didn't fit there, with the rest of the sparce decor.

He moved around the desk and took a seat, motioning to the only other chair in the place for her to sit.]

So, tell me what I'm looking at.

[It'll make the process faster.]