The Dark Side of Life - 0

Washington D.C. The capital of the United States of America.






Government is usually the first thing that people think of about this place. When it comes to notable things or places anyone can think of when they talk about this place, they usually think of the Capitol, the White House, the Monument, George Washington, the different Memorials, and the Reflecting Pool-whatever way you want to look at it. People usually think only government about D.C. from a glance--especially the politics and everything else nasty and influential that goes on in the Capitol and plenty of places elsewhere; or maybe other things dealing with the federal government come to mind, like the FBI, the military, the numerous Departments or what have you--not the plethora of unique and distinct scenery and venues, Marion Barry, Chuck Brown, or the city's excuse of an American football team (at least before they got RGIII, if you even know who that is). All of these very different things gave the city its own unique identity that set it apart from all of the others in the world. Yet, for some obscure yet understandable reason, it still doesn't seem to have the same type of reputation that other similar cities in this country have for instance, like our northern neighbor Baltimore, and other East Coast hubs like Philadelphia, New York City, or Miami--just to name a select few. But regardless of reputation or other meaningless factors we tend to create, like any other town, many people call it home sweet home.




And that's the only important thing that really matters here--this modern, racy, gilded, dirty, glorious, and otherwise just infamous city...is my home.


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"Order ready for, uh...Jordan?"


Hearing the chef at the pick-up counter call my name, I stood up from my seat and smiled as I went over and picked up the plastic bag with food inside. "Thanks, man," I briefly thanked, as I went on towards the front of the store to pay for my order. Picking up a bottle of orange juice and a bag of fruit snacks, I went on to the front counter to pay for my items. The familiar, homely Korean man at the register grinned, pleased to see my face in the middle of what I assumed to be a slow start to the day.


"Good morning sirrrrr!" He greeted with his signature yarr of his, giving me a fist bump once I put my items down for him to ring up. "Long time no see! Good to see you, yeah?"


"Hey Mr. Kang, what's good?" I replied, warmly grinning as I reached for my wallet. "How've you been?"


"Good, good..." Mr. Kang reported as he scanned everything up on the register. "Not so cold out anymore, thank God!"


I sifted through the different dollar bills I had on me to adequately pay the price displayed on the total screen. "It's about time, I've been getting sick of all the wind and stuff!" I said, giving him the money and chuckling. "At least I can finally wear comfortable clothes again..."


"Yeah..." he replied, giving me change and the receipt. “So...what are you doing now? You are working now, yes?"


I pondered the question for a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah, I'm working now, alright..."




Of course, Mr. Kang wasn't aware of it, but there were seriously ulterior motives behind my answer.


A whole lot of it, too--and he doesn't even know any of it.


But...y'know what? That's a good thing. He'd be much better off without knowing about me like that. He's too good for that. And plus, I'd actually like to keep my friends nowadays.




"Ohhhhh!" Mr. Kang replied in surprise. "That's very good! Make money, heh heh! Where're you work?"


"Uhhhh..." I trailed off, unexpectedly having to come up with a reasonable answer on the spot--which was no problem for me, having brought to mind an old summer job I used to hold in the past. "I, uh, work in an office, in Virginia. Assistant."


Mr. Kang nodded in understanding, while I looked down at my high-end, LCD-screen watch to check the time. Seeing that it was already ten minutes since I walked in the store, I winced at the seemingly quick passing of time, and took a few steps toward the door to let him know of my need to leave.


"Well, good luck--see you next time," Mr. Kang finally said, and gave me a salute gesture. Grinning, I saluted him back, took my things and stepped out of the corner store into the mild, comfortable late morning air with a warm and reassuring smile on my face.


--------


To be honest, for a while I never thought I'd ever get the chance to be out here again. To walk with other actual people like Mr. Kang, human beings, and be able to talk and interact with them like the human being I myself was...on the inside, at least. I never thought I'd ever see this city--let alone the world, I dare say--again for what it was. And the weather...the wind, the fresh air--but most of all, that sunshine.
The warmth of that distant star that knocks out tech once in a while with the solar storms and gives human skin sunburns occasionally, but gives us all the most important element that grants us life. It felt so good on my skin and my spirit, and it gave me such a great feeling that I hadn't felt for as long as I could remember.

For the last few years in my life, I never thought I would be able to go outside again, to step outside of my "home" into the world and community I knew best.


But of course, no one could just kick their feet up, sit back and relax. To say the absolute least, we all had important things to do. And don't even get me started on myself.


--------


"Jeez, could we have waited any longer?"


I sheepishly shrugged as I walked up to the dark blue Audi S4 that was parked on the curb, and got into the passenger seat inside. In the leather-trim driver's seat was a young fair-skinned woman sporting brown hair, who gave me a somewhat annoyed look as I closed the door behind me. I already knew her as Vera, one of the most reliable, skilled, and knowledgeable associates I had ever known in my tenure of working with her. While collected on the outside, I knew her to be quick and smart on her feet--and when she needs to be, very deadly. With a knowledge of the city and nearly everything that's in it like the back of her hand, she was an indispensable operative in 'shady' lines of work like ours.


"Hey, what can I say?" I replied to her, opening the bag. I removed a warm, aluminum foil-wrapped sandwich and gave it to her. "They like to actually take time and make their food good."


She shrugged and unwrapped it, taking a few napkins from the bag and started to eat her food. Before I ate mine, though, I heard another familiar voice clear its throat expectantly behind me.


"Then I wanna see proof of that, bub..."


Chuckling, I turned over my shoulder to the adolescent, short-haired freckled girl sitting in the back seat behind me, impatiently tapping her foot and lightly frowning at me. "Of course , Lexi, how could I forget you...?” I playfully sighed, going into the bag and gave her the last sandwich in the bag. Her frown turning into a smirk, she wasted no time in digging her teeth into her breakfast, even over the laptop notebook that sat in her lap. If that, the two connected screens mounted to the back of our front seats, or the numerous programs running on them didn't indicate that she was seriously skilled with information and technology, I wouldn't know what did. Alexis, or Lexi as we called her, was our snarky yet loyal field IT specialist and hacker that was a blessing to have for technical support or advantage.

Taking a moment to exhale and begin treating myself to my warm, robust sausage-egg-and-cheese sandwich, I looked around at our surroundings--the Northwest D.C. block was steadily coming to life, with lots of different people in business suits, uniforms, regular clothes and work clothes navigating the sidewalks and crosswalks, while cars buzzed back and forth on the roads. The city, its working parts, and its pumping veins...

Damn, I really missed being out here.

Smiling, I glanced over at Vera--she was generous enough to be my mentor in the exciting, dangerous job of being an undercover PRT patrol agent, an advancement of the Infiltration division where I was already posted. In this job, we would don human ‘disguises’ and do rounds around many areas in the city, on foot and in vehicles. We usually went out to locate and eavesdrop on suspected Pokextinction units and/or areas and either relay information back to base, or if absolutely necessary, go into action in one way or another in order to neutralize an immediate threat or defend important assets. It went without saying that the job extremely risky, and one would never know if they would be killed on duty...or, God/Arceus forbid, get captured.

But for me, it truly seemed all worth it. I just couldn’t handle being underground, cooped up in an advanced shelter that was cloistered and excluded from human society because I was a Pokéuman--a trained Zoroark that was pretty decent in battle but didn’t have much interest or motivation in competitive battling or anything else to do in the base (the list of which was rather limited anyway). It had been two long years in the place that I had no choice but to call home, and they were full of making friends, memories, and progress in my training and physical ability. Even after all of it, I still wanted to return to the world that I truly felt I belonged in. Or at least be around it once more, to come back and visit often...

"Mmmf, that was good," I sighed delightfully, balling up the sparse remains of my sandwich in the foil it came in and threw it in the paper bag. "All right! Order of the day?"

Vera grinned and pressed a few buttons on her smart phone, which was mounted on the dashboard via the air conditioner. "Mission for today..." she began aloud, bringing up a screen with recorded instructions on it. "Survey area from West End to Foggy Bottom, and on to Rosslyn in Virginia via the FSK (Francis Scott Key) bridge. Intel suggests possible PX traffic or transmissions going through area--relatively light compared to other significant recorded activity, but observation is still required. Patterns suggest high probability of pointing to a simple courier, or a written/oral messenger."

"Wait a minute," I butt in, in slight disbelief. "What do you mean by messengers--do they literally run people back and forth across town to deliver messages by...paper and word of mouth??"

Vera returned me a humoresque yet appalled glance. "Yeah--it's their way of communicating priority messages without being tracked or traced if they were to send them electronically. Sounds pretty stupid, I know, but it's not a bad tactic."

I simply shrug as she goes on. "Monitor area police and cellular frequencies for signs of nearby activity. Rules of engagement: if contact is made with any PX unit whether active or inactive, DO NOT DIRECTLY ENGAGE. Remotely obtain as much information as reasonably possible, from a distance--immediately call HQ for further instructions before taking any further action. Bring all gathered information to Command upon return to HQ per debrief."

She inhaled at last after reading the long paragraph. "Alright, any questions? Ready to go?" she asked us.

I took a quick second to check my own gear: a wallet with cash and important cards like my driver's license and Metro card, a high-end LCD-screen watch on my wrist that functioned as my humanizing device, and in the glove compartment of the car... a H&K .45 caliber handgun. Remember how to use that, when to use it--and most importantly, when NOT to use it, Vera's words rang in my head. That could mean the difference between life or death, but it could sure also mean the difference between getting away scot-free or getting arrested--or, ultimately, captured.


Well, here we are...let's do it.


"Police scanners and radio frequencies are good to go back here," Lexi called from the backseat, leaving Vera to look at me. I simply gave her a grin and rolled the window down to rest my arm on the door.

"Let's ride," I soon said to Vera, to which she chuckled. She put the car in gear, and soon we were on our way...