Snippet #1059641

JJ tucked strands of silky blonde hair behind her ear as she pour herself a steaming cup of coffee. Her morning routine had been tough to get used to, with the time difference being so large, but the caffine definitely helped. With mug in hand, she left her flat, locking both locks behind her. After a few sips, she was starting to feel energy rise from her very core, but not enough to do much other than head to the Chrysler Building, where she had been told to go earlier in the morning.. Lucky for her, she was only a five minute walk from it, and in heels, that was a good thing.
Taking another sip of joe, she began to push her way through the early crowds of people, all ready agravated with the city and she hadn't been there for more than a week. This is worse than London at tea time, she mused to herself. Being her height, and especially her weight, made it a little more difficult to navigate through the sea of people. After a minute of being stuck in the exact same spot, she reached for the gun in its holster on her belt, not actually going to use it. It was a nice reminder of some power at least.
Jordan stopped at a news stand, where she bought herself a copy of the New York Times, just in case she actually had some time to read it during her working day. She just hoped the guy who was practically the reason she was there, knew who she was. If not, she could always flash a badge. But it's more fun if people know you... She thanked the man behind the register, then dove back into the crowd. Most people had their heads down, so she had to almost yell to finally arrive at the building. It was huge, compartively. She gaped at it in awe for a moment before sitting down on a bench across the sidewalk from it. "Hope this is the place," she mumbled.
By then, her mug full of energy had been drained, and all that was left to do was the paper she held in her hand. With a small sigh, she pulled it out and flipped the world news section, hoping nothing had happened in Britian in her short time away. She was relieved when she saw that it was basically just on the war going on, and some aftermaths of earthquakes. When she flipped to sports, she saw it was covering a New York Yankees game against the Boston Red Sox. She couldn't care less about baseball, but secretly she prefered the Sox. It was best not to speak of it out loud.
JJ glanced at the watch that was upside down, the clock on the inside of her wrist, so see it was only 0847. But, when she looked back up again, she saw some official looking people there, a woman waving her arm at them in excitement. She stood, throwing the paper in the trash and holding the mug in her right hand. She held out her right to the men. "Agent Stoker?" she asked the older-looking one. "I'm Agent Joiner from the SOCA, I believe we spoke on the phone?"

Hours and many coffee runs later, JJ was still wandering around Manhattan looking for leads that could tell her how to find this mysterious 'Dark One'. She had visited countless people claiming that they knew who it was, but she knew none of them were it. They were too old, or just born, or quadrapolegic, or dead. None seemed viable, especially the babies and the ones who were dead. After a little while, her hope for the day had been lost. She so dearly wished that they would just find this son of a bitch just to get it over with.
Patients is a virtue, her mother's voice reminded her in the back of her mind.
Then I'm not a very virtuous person.
From her pocket, her cell phone rang loudly. She excused herself from the older gentleman she had been talking to, and answered her phone. "Joiner... No, I haven't... All right... Of course I have... Yes... Yes I'll keep looking. Fine..." Just as soon as the conversation with the agent on the other end of the line had started, it stopped. "It's like they don't know I have a gun," she muttered to herself as she walked back over to the man. "Thank you for your time, sir. If you can tell us any more, please call the number on that card I gave you." They shook hands, and she left.
Still I have nothing.