Kraken loved her job. She was well aware of how bad it was for others of her 'special nature'. In truth, how bad it
could be
for her.
If her unusual abilities consisted entirely of her prehensile hair, and maybe even her ability to jet through the water at superhuman speeds, she probably would have gotten an alias like 'Medusa' and would have been land-locked. Instead, she was fortunate to have the ability to breath underwater as well. As such, she was lucky enough to have been assigned to the maritime branch of the Paranormal Registration Association.
Like so many of the administrative overseers, Kraken's handler despised and feared the very people he was set to watch. In truth, he didn't even see her as a person. She was little more than a beast that could be trained to do some useful tricks. More importantly, she was a beast that needed to be leashed in case she lashed out at the real people of the world that he protected.
That was part of why it was such a blessing to have been assigned to the maritime branch. While he could control every aspect of her life, when at base, she also got to spend large amounts of time basking in the solitude of the ocean. There were so few paras suited to the sea that those they had were constantly needed for patrol. Unlike her land-locked piers, she wouldn't be stuck at base while they waited for something to happen.
That was the beauty of her job. She felt the freedom and power that others of her kind couldn't even imagine. Even those who could fly were rarely let loose to really exploit their capabilities. Sure, they could fly here and there, but could they ever open up and find out how fast or high they could fly with handlers constantly worrying that they would go rogue?
The downside of her freedoms was that she, like all in her branch of the PRA, were tagged with a GPS chip. The same chip acted as a satellite communications link. Wherever she went in the world ~or more likely the world's oceans~ they could find her and listen in.
"Kraken, report!"
Kraken tried to keep the sigh of resentment internal but wasn't sure if Braxton had heard it anyway. After all, the comm./GPS chip was subcutaneous. Otherwise, the passage of the water over it, as she zipped through the surf, would drown out any attempt at listening or reporting.
"Nothing to report yet, sir." She admitted. She failed to remind him that she had been given a very large area of ocean to comb through and her target was a very small boat on an uncertain schedule. That assumed that their information was correct to begin with and there really was a cutter running drugs out here.
"The thing has masts, for Christ's sake! How hard could it be to see with nothing but flat water around?"
Kraken forced herself to remain calm. She had to remind herself that it wasn't his fault, really. He might be an ass, but such misconceptions were pretty common among people who'd never really been out to sea.
"Sorry, sir." She calmly explained. "Unfortunately, the ocean isn't exactly a flat surface. The waves that dip and swell can be hundreds of feet high from top to bottom, which is more than enough to hide the single mast of a ship like a cutter. Further, distances out here are deceptive. A fifty-foot mast that's only a foot wide practically vanishes not too far away, if they don't have sails up."
Braxton grumbled but didn't press the issue further. That was about as close to understanding as she was likely to get out of him. She hadn't expected any more but it would have been nice for him to at least acknowledge she knew how to do her job. She'd been sent out often enough to track boats and ships that the coast guard couldn't afford to send someone after.
That was another advantage she had over the Earthers; the restrictions on what she was allowed to do were lighter. On land, paras were only authorized to take on assignments that involved other paras. Oh, in extreme cases the local government could authorize them to handle more mundane threats, but it rarely happened. After all, governors and above were usually too afraid the paras would get out of control and try to take over.
The lack of manpower on the high seas meant that the maritime branch was often called in by the coast guard, or even the navy itself, to help patrol waters against any threat; para or norm. Granted, she usually was only sent to pursue and report back, but that was fine by her. She wasn't a bad fighter, but her powers didn't really lend to taking on a boat. Anything more than half a dozen people and she needed backup.
"Just keep...out...water......sails...charm..."
Kraken slowed to a stop in confusion. In the seven years since she had become a full agent, she'd never had any problems with her comm. Orbit around the planet was littered with satellites to bounce signals to ~and keep track of~ agents anywhere in the world. She slowed and drifted slowly towards the surface in case that might help clear things up.
"Say again, sir? I'm having problems hearing you."
"Krak...eep...op...ork...ah...ah...zul..."
"Sir? Braxton! Can you hear me?"
Silence greeted her as Kraken's head broke the surface of the Atlantic. She felt a moment of panic as a chill of fear washed over her. She'd never particularly liked the fact that PRA monitoring was a constant probability in her life, but she had become accustomed to it. It never occurred to her that it had become something of a security blanket. No matter what happened, she knew that the PRA computers, at least, would monitor her signal and send an alarm for certain red flags.
A flicker of motion caught Kraken's attention. Even stunned by the unbelievable situation, she knew to keep her attention focused on her surroundings. There were plenty of predators in the water that could threaten someone stationary even if they could never catch her while moving.
