If there's one thing you should know about me is that I love peace and quiet. No, wait... let me rephrase that. I don't just love it, I need it! When you're in my line of work, there's nothing better than silence and complete relaxation after dealing with all the stress.
What do I do for a living, you ask? In good honesty, that's classified information, but I was a bit careless just now so I might as well tell you. Part of the story, at least.
You can think of me as an "information expert". Yes, I'm specialized in procuring and dealing with all sorts of sensitive data. I'm the woman businessmen, politicians and even Chiefs of State call when the going gets tough, and conventional means simply won't cut it. I collect, replace, destroy... I can be as clean or as dirty as required if the money is good.
And now, the word "mercenary" is stuck in your mind, right? I don't like that. It's true I owe allegiance to no one but myself, but I do have a code. My principles may be a bit fuzzy at times but I'm trustworthy, dependable, and very, very good at my job.
If you had told me a year ago I would be living on the top floor of Silver Bell Towers, I would have laughed. It's something I never considered on my own despite the reputation of the place. Nonetheless, here I am, courtesy of one of my most recent employers who was very pleased to hear that the paper trail that implicated him in the theft of two crates of Nazi gold no longer existed. The luxurious apartment was a sincere gift, and also a silly attempt to get laid. Clients can be dumb too, you know?
Anyway, don't think you can parse anything useful of what I just said. Even if you do uncover something you're not supposed to from these little tongue slips, I'll make sure you don't get to repeat it. For now, please be quiet. I feel like telling a story, and I want you to listen closely.
This is a story about the Powells. Derrick Powell and Martha Powell. Newlyweds, recent tenants, major annoyances. When they moved in, everyone was delighted by the Hollywood looks, the impeccable hair, and glistening teeth. Smiles were exchanged faster than a supersonic jet, hands were shook, touched and rubbed in both conspicuous and inconspicuous ways, and eager lips sang ballads of everlasting joy within this placid, loving community.
It was all rainbows and unicorns for about two months or so. Then, the fighting started and the illusion's true colors were unveiled.
There are many underlying reasons for their constant outbreaks, far too many to share, but here are the basics: Derrick believes his wife is cheating on him with a Finnish plastic surgeon. She, in turn, is convinced he's cheating on her with a bodybuilder he met at the gym a couple of days before the wedding. From what I've been able to gather, they're both right, but neither one of them wants to acknowledge the fact. They're both proud people who like to come out on top at any time, regardless of consequence.
To be honest, I've been very patient with their antics so far, but not anymore. I need my beauty sleep, my Zen moments before the next assignment. Seeing no one else dares to do anything, I'm going to take matters into my own hands. As a matter of fact, I just did.
