Prey

I walked slowly into the café, my heels clicking on the floor with each step. I was extremely careful to be seen by all in the room. This, you understand, is generally not the focus on my exertions. Normally, I made any and all concessions not to be seen or remembered. That sort of thing comes with my job description. Presently, my job had sent me to Prague in search of someone who has information. Information I desperately needed if I wanted to keep this job much longer.
A few guys whistled as I passed. I ignored them, all my attentions focused on the man sitting alone at the back table. He was seated, of course, up against the wall. I had studied this man and his so called exploits. He was still wanted back home for a couple of unsolved murders.
I sauntered right up to the table, “Hey handsome, mind if I join you?”
“Actually, I do. I like my privacy,” he replied glancing up slightly.
I sat down anyway. My eyes met his. Immediately, he felt threatened by me, something was wrong. They had found him again.
“Relax, Bourne. I’m not here for you. I just want to talk,” I said causally.
That did nothing to help him relax, “How did you find me? Why are you here to see me? Do you work for them now?”
?”
“As I said, I just want to talk to you for one minute. Then you can disappear wherever you want for however long you like,” I said.
He was skeptical, “All right,” he decided to humor me, “What do you want from me?”
I snatched up my bag from where I had dropped it onto the floor. I unzipped it and pulled out a folder. I opened it and laid a photo onto the table, “You seen him lately?”
Jason Bourne studied the photo for a minute, “I thought he was dead.”
“No such luck, after we traced him to the car wreck in Moscow, he disappeared off the face of the earth until two months ago,” I answered plainly.
Bourne glanced down at the photo again, “What’s his name?”
I smiled, “Kirill.”
Bourne tossed a bill onto the table and got up. He ambled past me. I swung around in my seat, “So, you haven’t seen or heard anything about him?”
He turned very briefly, “You might want tad tad to Berlin, just an idea.” So, he’s back in Berlin. I tucked the photos back into my folder. She shouldered the bag and headed out…to Berlin.