Multi-Dimensional Merchant System

Clean, manicured nails tapped away at the keyboard, putting the finishing touches on a report before sending it off to be reviewed. A glance at the clock showed it was almost the end of the day; not enough time to start on anything new, but too much time to sit idle.

Just as the hand shifted to pull up another file, a knock came at the office door.

Straightening in her seat, the woman smoothed an errant wrinkle in her otherwise immaculate suit before answering the knock. “Come in!”

When she saw the man walk in and swing the door shut behind him, she nearly sighed aloud. John may have been handsome, arguably the best looking man in their department, if not the entire agency, but tales of his 'conquests' had already made the rounds... And, for some reason, he had set his sights on her.

His constant excuses to 'talk about work' with her were already starting to annoy her.

“Got a hot one for you, Janie!”

She ignored his excited tone and directed a scowl at him. “It's Jane. As I've told you several times.” She nearly growled at him. “The rules in our department may be a bit more relaxed than others, but I expect a certain level of respect when addressing me. Specifically when it comes to my name.”

“Don't make me complain to the Director. Nobody wants him to start enforcing the use of our titles again.”

John raised his hands apologetically, though his smile never wavered. “Ok, ok. I apologize... Senior Agent Doe.” His mischievous tone made her eye twitch, but he quickly moved on rather than tease her further. “But seriously Jane, I think I hit on something here. I was hoping you would hear me out before I try to run it up the chain.”

When her only response was a single raised eyebrow, his smile turned awkward. He actually looked embarrassed for a moment. “Look... I'm still the new guy, so not everyone takes me seriously yet-”

“You're reputation certainly isn't helping with that, you know.” She gritted out, then nearly groaned at his reaction. Instead of knocking him down like she had hoped, he actually seemed more confident.

Maybe even proud of his reputation.

“That, at least, I deserve.” He chuckled smugly. “I just figured that if I got your input, and you agreed with me, that it would lend a little weight to it with our boss.”

Seeing his hopeful look, she finally relented. “Fine. I've got a few minutes. What is it you want my input on?”

John leaned forward eagerly, opening the folder he carried as he spoke. “It actually caught my attention because of something Marley, my friend from my old department, mentioned when we were grabbing lunch yesterday. He got a request from the C.I. A. for-”

“I don't need the full story just yet, John. Just give me the highlights and we can delve deeper if there really is something there, ok?” She sighed, already growing tired of the unnecessarily long winded explanation. “What did the C.I.A. want, and why did they need us for it?”

"Ah... Ok. Well, they wanted information about a guy and the business he worked for. They found plenty on the guy, but nothing on the business. Private business, not a lot to go on with it. They think it could be a shell for something shady. But!” He paused dramatically, making Jane want to hit him just to get to the point. “It's not really the guy or the business they're interested in, but someone he's been talking to.”

When he paused again, Jane leaned back in her seat, knowing there was nothing she could do to actually get him to the point. She would just have to wait. Impatiently.

When she waved for him to continue, he grinned broadly. “I checked into it a little, since the person they are looking at is listed as an American citizen and is currently back here after time overseas.”

John pulled a picture from his folder and laid it on her desk. It showed a cute girl, a teenager if Jane had to guess, dressed in a fashion she knew was called 'pastel goth'- a general mix of goth style with bright colors. “This is the person they're looking at? She's what? Fifteen? Sixteen maybe?”

John just shrugged as he glanced at his notes. “According to her records she is almost forty... And she's wanted by Interpol!”

Despite his smug declaration, Jane barely reacted. Sure, the girl-woman, she corrected herself- looked young and innocent. But Jane knew better than to judge based solely off looks. She was a young and attractive woman herself, but no one in the department would doubt her abilities.

She had a reputation of her own, after all. Though hers was more...violent... than John's.

“So what is she wanted for? And how does it connect to... the man whose name you still haven't mentioned?”

Opening his folder once again, John scanned the page and whistled softly. “It's a little crazy, Jane. Apparently, Miss 'Sweet and Innocent' there-” he tapped the picture. “-is called Evelyn Hart. She's wanted in over a dozen countries for... a lot. Theft, kidnapping, arson, assassination... War crimes, terrorism...”

Shaking his head, he glanced at Jan for a second. “She's a straight up mercenary, willing to do just about anything if someone pays her.”

Flipping to the next page in his folder, his voice rose in excitement. “But here is where it get interesting.” John slid two more pictures across the desk to her, both significantly older. Each showed a similar looking woman, though the fashion worn was different in each.

“The first one is from about thirty years ago, taken in Chicago. The subject is supposedly Ms. Hart's mother... A forty year old woman who was also named Evelyn Hart. The second picture is even older, though I don't have an exact date due to some records being lost. But it is about sixty years old...”

“The woman in the picture was identified as a Ms. Evelyn Hart, roughly thirty years old.”

“And the best part... Both of them were also wanted in multiple countries. Theft, kidnapping, arson, war crimes... You see the picture I'm painting here?”

Jane nodded slowly. The pictures were old, but of decent enough quality. Despite the different clothing and hair styles, the women looked very similar... “So, either there is a family line of women that all look incredibly similar, pass down the same name repeatedly, and are raised into a life of violence... Or it's the same woman creating chaos across six decades and she just doesn't age. Some sort of immortal or something?”

John nodded enthusiastically. “My current theory is that she's a vampire. All of the pictures were taken at night, all sightings of her were reported as having been at night, same for all the incidents and attacks she was reported as involved in... Vampire is the only thing I know of that fits.”

Jane nodded firmly. “This is probably worth looking into, John. Good catch. We should take this straight to Evans...”

Just as she stood to follow her own words, John waved her back into her seat. She gave him a quizzical look, but sat as he directed. “There's more?”

While he still looked smug, any hint of mischief had been wiped from his expression.

“Yeah, there's more. And I think you'll agree that it's a pretty big deal too.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he started laying out more papers. “The guys over at the C.I.A. believe she came back into the country for a job. They're not sure what the job is, but it somehow connects to this man.”

He tapped a picture showing a young man in his twenties. Short, dark hair, blue eyes, and maybe six foot tall, he looked like any other college aged guy. Perhaps a bit more handsome, but that was just her personal opinion. “Ok, what's the connection?”

John shrugged. “I'm not really sure, other than some texts and calls have been exchanged. But when I started digging into this guy... Thing got interesting.”

“You remember that attack on the college over in California?” At her nod, John tapped one of the papers. “His cell phone pinged a couple times near there, both in the days before and after the attack.”

“You think he was there for the attack? Is there any surveillance-”

John shook his head quickly, cutting her off. “The cameras on campus cut off just before the attack, and none of the places his phone pinged have any footage. It was either erased weeks ago, or they don't have cameras.”

“But, considering he arrived just over a week before the attack and left shortly after, I have a feeling he was there for it.”

Jane quirked an eyebrow at his statement. “How soon after did he leave? And how sure are you?”

John's chest puffed up with pride as he tapped the next page. “We got another hit on his phone about a week later, halfway across the country. And this one is pretty interesting too!”

When Jane didn't take the bait and simply stared impassively at him, John coughed awkwardly and pressed on. “The data shows that his phone pinged about an hour from a city called Sparrow... Where a group of alleged white supremacists were murdered on the same day.”

He tapped on another series of reports with a wide smile. “Add to that his connection to the disappearance of some rich kid, then the recent murder of said rich kid's father- who, I should add, had pulled strings to get the guy investigated by the State Police despite there being no evidence of foul play- and this Oliver guy looks pretty suspicious. What do you think?”

Jane nodded once, before shaking her head. “Yes, it looks suspicious. But I'm not sure this man...” She glanced quickly at the paper in front of her. “Oliver Silk? I'm not sure he's our responsibility. Nothing about this screams 'paranormal' to me, except maybe the tenuous connection he has to Ms. Hart.”

She sighed softly as she stared at the picture. For a young, handsome man like him to be in the middle of some very nasty business...

“I suppose if we're going to look into this 'Evelyn Hart', we may as well dig up what we can about him while we're at it. If he's a mundane, we can just pass it off to the right people and let them handle it. Let's go ahead and run this by our boss before he leaves for the day.”

“Oh, and go ahead and tell your C.I.A. contact that, seeing as Ms. Hart is an American citizen on American soil, this is now a matter for us to handle.”

“I don't think they'll like that, Janie.”

“It doesn't matter if they like it. We're the F.B.I. This is our job.”

“And don't call me Janie!”