Streets of London

Cirque; The Black Queen

The streets were gloomy with the scent of death and misery; the cloudy skies crawling across London like mist through over a lake of black. Two black heels stood in a pool of blood; a hand lay limp on the ground next to them. The fingers were dirty and pale; flesh underneath the nails and the heels slowly stepped over the hand and started to walk slowly, the clicking sounds of the heels leaving a trail of blood echoing across the alley way as the made their way towards the nearest straight.

Blonde white hair flowed in the small breeze; bare shoulders exposed as a slim but curvaceous figure leaned against the wall. Cirque had killed today; and she slowly lifted her sunglasses from her eyes; looking around as figures walked along the streets, many kinds. Poor, rich, business men, con men. But the man who lay dead in the alleyway was a pawn of the white chess; a small rank but still progress. The White Chess were getting better at hiding themselves; and sliding past her reach. But she slowly pulled her gloves on after putting her sun glasses back on, and she walked out into the street as if nothing had happened.

Her black dress clanged to her figure; mid thigh short as her heels clicked more and left only a slight bit of red behind her. She was a mixture of white and black; the black clothing; the white hair and skin... would people recognize her as a black agent or a white agent? She didn't really care since she was satisfied with how she worked and how good she was at her job. There wasn't a whole lot she couldn't do; she sometime felt too confident in herself. She passed a man who stared at her, his eyes going big to see her walking among the rest and standing out. But there were prostitutes with revealing clothing; Cirque just made it more classy.

She had heard Intel of a white chess member being at a pub not far from the alley where she had killed the pawn. And she was determined to check it out herself. Her job was an active one; she rarely took advice from the other members and lower ranks. The only advice or orders she took from was the Black King himself; but she did her job well so she rarely needed it. As she made her way inside the modern pub; she saw eyes turn and stare with a bit of a confused or bewildered expression. Perhaps she should have chosen something a bit less exposing to hide herself up; but none the less, she made her way towards the bar and rested her elbows on the counter.

The bar tender turned, tilting his head with a questioning look before taking his cigarette out of his mouth and grinning slightly. "Can I help you, miss?" Cirque slowly took off her sun glasses, setting them down on the counter as she gave him a small smile, her brown black eyes gleaming.

"Actually; you can. I'm looking for someone... someone who would... look like a goody good fellow, if you get what I mean. Someone who comes off as... white." she said, the last word coming out of her mouth in almost a seductive small tone. The bar tender seemed quite confused at this question; but he grinned and leaned closer to her as he took a puff from his cigarette and some of the smoke floundered in front of her nose. She wanted to cough; but her experience in bars had her face straight and non living.

"Now you don't seem like the type of girl looking for a goody good fellow. You seem like the type of girl looking for someone more... in charge." he said, sending her a small wink. Cirque's smile faded into irritation. Oh my god; he thought she was looking for a fuck buddy. She sighed slightly and she slowly put her sun glasses back on and smiled slightly at him.

"I'm the one in charge, sir. Good day." she said, tossing a five dollar bill on the table. She grinned as she grabbed the glass of beer from the customer next to her and took a long swig before walking out the door and shoving the glass into a man's arms. She was irritated. She would have to stake the pub out later instead.


--------------------------------------------------------

Streets of London... To the White Castle...
Thyrone...White Bishop

Thyrone entered the café where he was ordered to go and meet with the security detachment that was going to take him the white castle so that he may report to Mr. Nightland. His mind went back a few years when he first met and worked with Scott. The kid was young and ambitious, something that most analyst go through when they gather up the intelligence and formulate what is going on. Scott was good at it and when he heard that Scott moved up the ladder he wasn’t surprised.

Taking his seat at the designated booth he waited for the detail to advance upon him. His gaze drifted down to the menu. Taking the smooth laminated parchment in his hand he browsed over the Breakfast items. “Hmmm.” he muttered softly. “What do I feel like having this fine morning.” his whisper reaching no-ones ears but his own.

It wasn’t long before a young, skateboarding teen slide into the booth and picked up the breakfast menu. “Hey old man.” The young man’s voice flowed over the raised up menu. “Any suggestions on the outcome of the boarding games?” the menu lowered and a pair of blue eyes stared over the top edge. “I hear it’s going to be an outwash.. Seven to five odds in favor of the blue scorns.” his voice showing signs of excitement.

“Naw, sorry I don’t follow the boarding games.” he gave the answer to the security question then proceeded to continue with the dialog that was given to him once contact has been made, “Well, I think a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit sounds pretty good. What do you think?” Thyrone looking back at the young teen.

“Well, gramps I’m more of a pancake man myself.” he lowered his gaze back to the menu. “I really enjoy the chocolate ones, however, they always seem to only give you a few chips, I wish they would just dump in a cup or two into the batter. That would put a pep into your step.” laughed the young teen

“May I take your orders?” questioned the waitress upon her arrival. Thyrone looked at his watch then up to the waitress, “I will take a cup of coffee and a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich to go please.” He smiled at her. “And you?” she asked the teen then nodded when he placed his order.

Several moments later he received his order and proceeded to leave. He got the information that he needed to get to the white castle. Going to where the boarding games are conducted as instructed he found a payphone and dialed the code..7,5,1,2 into the phone. A few seconds later a voice came over the receiver, “Go to the restroom, use the last stall, flush twice, wait five seconds then speak the code phrase, then push on the wall and it will open, proceed down the hallway to the security desk at the end.” The phone went dead.

Thyrone followed the instructions to the letter and spoke the code, “I really enjoy the chocolate ones, however, they always seem to only give you a few chips, I wish they would just dump in a cup or two into the batter. That would put a pep into your step.” The hallway was well lit and at the end some forty feet away was three security guards awaiting for him.

Keeping his stern features, he was led down the hallway toward the elevators that would take him up to the Kings level. His gaze remained forward as they came upon the elevator. “Just push the up button and that will take you to the Kings level.” informed the Security officer before turning away and walking back to his duty station.

Moments later the double doors were in front of him and he was softly rapping upon the smooth wood. “Come in.” came a tired voice from inside. Thyrone entered ….

Smirking Christian took it and replied quietly, "There an Uzi under here which would love to answer this question for you." grinning while placing his arm over the guy shoulder he continued, "Now play along and act like nothing wrong. I'm way above you sonny so best behave."

Walking him over to away from people he carried on speaking, "Everyone, don't worry, he has returned the wallet and I won't press charges."

With that every resumed what they were doing and slowly parted from the crowd.

Once no one was looking Christian said, "Count yourself lucky and scram." snatching his wallet and placing it in his pocket. This guy was nothing, but he might as well place fear of god into him. Pulling out the Uzi he copped him on the head before leaving him to wake up later. Now it was time to head to White Hall, leaving the alleyway he resumed his path, crossing by the traffic lights.

Throne Black…White Bishop….London Street Corner

The female voice came across the phone was layered with complexity as she identified him without a problem. Either she was informed of his coming and was expecting his call or she was at the top of her game and knew everything that was going on in house. He was hoping that it was both but he has found out through experience that it was mostly the first.

“Well, I called to report to you after meeting with the King and wanted to know if there is anything you need me to work on.” he kept his voice deep and calm. He didn’t want to ask her location for that would tip her off so he was going to play this wisely. Covering the mic on the phone, he proceeded to pull out his throw away and called the White Chess operations command, “Yeah I need a trace on my phone, number is 445-5656. Yeah, keep it scrambled and low frequency.”

His gaze surveyed the surrounding area as he waited for the Queen to inform him if there was anything for him to do, and waited for the trace to complete so that he could get a fix on the fair lady.