It was hot, too hot even, for the amount of black the slim girl was wearing. A black leather jacket, over a black tank top, paired with black, tight fitted pants and black combat boots.
It was expected for anyone to be sweating in such a heat wave, but the brunette held her composure just fine, occasionally glancing at a silver watch which hung on her wrist.
It was five minutes past her directed meeting time. Not exactly a good start to things.
Pushing her aviator sunglasses up to rest atop her head, Agent Monroe once again glanced around the bus stop where she was waiting.
Perhaps they were simply watching her, waiting her for to catch on to their presence. But it seemed unlikely.
Seeing she had arrived two hours early to survey the entire land, she didn't think any figure had escaped her grasp.
Yet, her grey eyes, grey like the colour of storm clouds ready to burst, moved slowly over the terrain of the New York streets, waiting for a sign, any sign.
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