Remember Me?

13

I was sitting at my desk going through a suspect's file. I was looking for patterns, clues, anything that could connect him to the crime. I was good at this. I was good at solving the puzzle. It was the only reason the other members of the SSR listened to me. I could solve a puzzle they were too blind to see.

"Look: he said that it was here, and that they did it. I don't know what else you need to know Agent Smith, but we're ready to go." Dean argued pointing at the chalk board. He was willing to take his team into a side of town he didn't know or understand to arrest a group of men who were a big threat. I had a boulder sized gut feeling that he was wrong.

"He has claimed to have no connection to them at all, but yet he works across the street from their warehouse. His wife—wait—" Dean huffed crossing his arms. He was not happy waiting and listening to me.

"I don't even know why we're listening to you. You've barely been out there!" He yelled at me. I ignored him and shifted through some more notes. I think I had found the connection.

"That's it. In thirty we're out without you or not," he finalized leaving me.

"You're going to get yourself killed." I murmured to myself. Then I found the connection. It was in his address! I traced the connection through the case until I figured out the enemy's plan. I was too late by then because the crew had already left. I ran out of the building and grabbed a car and raced after them. It was the age old story of the bad guys working with who was framed for the crime to kill the good guys. And our guys were stupid enough to fall for it. Luckily I had reached them in time.

"Listen! Listen to me! It's all wrong! He is working with them! He wants you to go in here, they're ready for you and they'll kill all of you!" I whispered furiously. Some of the men believed me the lowered their weapons.

"What are we supposed to do now, Agent Smith." One of them asked patronizingly. I rolled my eyes, had none of them read a mystery book?

"It's simple we just turn the tide on them. We go, release the guy, but subtly tell him where a team of us is going to be. And they'll come to us."

"Wouldn't be faster to just go in now?!"

"Sure you go ahead and get blown to pieces me, I'm going to play the game." I told them with my nose in the air and sure as hell, I was great at the game. I had let it slip that a team of us were gathering somewhere. It was too perfect, a huge number of important SSR members waiting unsuspectingly. Of course they tried to attack, and of course they lost. My plan was a huge success, and with every success came a slow wave of respect. I had long figured out the SSR ran on the slippery slope of politics. Success meant power, it meant respect. The more success, the more powerful you were, the more influence you had. It was all about winning, everyone wanted theirs, and of course so did I. Respect was one less man that didn't ask me to get his coffee with sugar. It was one less man looking down on me.

After another big success a month or two later I came bouncing into the Stark mansion. Howard was of course working when I waltzed in.

"You look happy," he commented as I smiled. He continued to mess with some gadget as I danced around him.

"I had a good day at work,"

"Ahh, another Anna Smith win."

"What can I say I love to win," I said wistfully