Icy Velvet

The restaurant was busy and there were many patrons. It would have been hard to an amateur with limited memory skills to find the target in such a place. But this place was no match for her. She had been trained since she was a young woman to become what she is now. A world class spy. Maybe even solar system wide class? No, that would be pushing it too hard. She smiled to herself at her own modesty. She truly was an achievement of society.

The waiters seemed to swim by as they expertly navigated quickly lifting elderly women, fast-paced renegade children and their own kind. It was as if the plates and drinks they balanced with their hands were not objects for eating and drinking, but clouds that they would bent to and fro across the skyscape of the restaurant at their own will. She put down her sunglasses and gave a semi-glance towards the target.

He was in the booth, as described, and wearing a neat pair of pants in light brown, dark brown, almost black from a certain angle type of shoes. He sat himself upright and measured his surroundings like she had done when she sat. Meticulous. That such an insidious traitor would show such elegance surprised her slightly. She noticed that his suit pants matched perfectly with the suit jacket, vest - a vest? Oh my. - and tie. She did admire his style, he was well-dressed, I suppose the terrorist pay well.

A waiter intrudes on the observations of the waiting and she calmly orders a wine - preferably Lunar - and a salad. The waiter pauses for a moment. He looks inward and contemplates the tediousness of explaining the different salad types to this elegant and expensive-looking woman. He opts against it, gives a curt nod and wafts away into the folds of the intricate network of waiting staff paths, a world she will never know.

Her glance goes to the door, but in reality she is observing her target out of the corner of her eye. He has already scanned the menu of course and is looking at his watch as he peers out of the window. The watch seems to be of very distinct Martian style. He plays the part just right, she thought to herself as she played with the napkin that encased her eating utensils finely. His face was chiseled, that of an old Greek god perhaps, and his dark hair, dark skin, and dark brown eyes, made her heart jump. She felt herself become flustered at the thought, angry even. How dare she! This man was a traitor of the Solar Union! A rebel and a mad man who would stop at nothing to further his own cause!

She paused for a moment as she took out her vape. She took a puff and stared as the cloud that she emitted intermingled with the cloud of waiters ever so slightly, as it dispersed into wavy globes of nothingness. Was she not the same? Would she also not do anything to further her cause? The coup d'etat on Europa comes to mind. Never mind that time in Olimar on a research station when she... no, she has to focus. The time for reminiscing would be later, after this job is done. She had to keep her eyes on the prize and that prize was Intigo Solento. A terrorist who had sabotaged three stations in Solar Union space already and he was looking for the next one. Intigo was adamant that no one had died in his attacks, in which he simply wants to shed light to the preservation of the space whale, but her superiors were even more adamant - diamond? - and insisted she keep a close eye on him. He was up to no good.

Her drink came and she looked up at the man who had decided what salad she would eat. THis was a task she easily and readily gave up to others. It would not bother her what she would eat. Her mind was somewhere else most of the time. About twelve meters North-East of her current position. Height of the man seemed accurate as well judging by his posture and the size of the booth he sat at. She held her wine glass and took a sip as she noticed that he, too, had a glass of wine. Could it be the same? His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the drink with fervor. He seemed to sigh inwardly as he put the glass down. She finished her sip as well, appearing perhaps as a drunkard by comparison. She blushed. What if he saw her like that? She got angry at herself again. Traitor! Focus. Eyes on the prize.

She looked back to him and he dreamily cast his gaze outward. The light of the street opposite shone a faint yellow-orange glow into his eyes. He seemed to be enveloped entirely by the ad or billboard outside, it belonged to a holotheater's display. She knew it of course, she had scoped out the area prior to sitting down of course. All exits checked. She caught herself staring at him directly from across the room. Embarrassed she took another sip of her wine and just then another waiter, presumably one who was designated to bring out food, wafted by her table and gently dipped a salad bowl upon her table and gave a curt nod. From afar she locked eyes with the waiter who took her order. She took a quick glance at the salad beneath her. Goat cheese, walnuts, a glaze of sugar that appeared syrupy. She took the salad fork and stabbed at it while returning eye contact with the waiter. His smile disappeared as he stared at her, anxious at the result. She chewed, once. Twice. Yes, it was approved as she closed her eyes and continued to eat. The waiter smiled and felt relieved. This was his world, in it he danced the dance of the pathways, the plates and shouts from within the kitchen den. Another happy customer. He smiled and spun away, to serve another divine dame such as herself.

She finished chewing and her eyes went straight to Intigo, any guise of shyness thrown overboard, for she felt more confident than she feared being caught. Especially once she had seen what he had ordered. A salad as well? She squinted slightly. Oh. Oh no, he also has the same salad. No doubt it's the same wine. She looked back at her salad and smiled. No, I can't be doing this... Not again. Not after the fiasco in Ganymede. It wasn't intended to not be that clandestine. She had taken all the precautions as well. Luckily he escaped, well, luckily for him. Not for her. She took a sip of her wine and then shook her head. No, not luckily for me. Not for me. I am working for Solar Union. Solar Union... Solar... Union...

She leaned on her hand and took a side-glance toward Intigo. He was staring at her, his mouth filled with a salad leaf that had not yet chosen to be pulled inward. His mouth turned upward into a smile as the leaf swiftly disappeared. She smiled at she looked back at him. He gave a small nod and wink as he turned away and continued to eat his salad as he looked out the window. He was taunting her. She smiled and gave her wine glass a swirl. I'll get you Into. I'll get you again.