Iris Loganna
Chapter One

Sirens sounded in the streets, and lights blared their reflections off the building windows like a streak of lightening as they rushed passed.

“Attention all units, attention all units. We have a murder off of Weston and 3rd Avenue. Weston and 3rd Avenue. Please get there for further investigation,” the police scanner announced. The cops rushed to their perimeter outside the building, and held their positions until they were instructed to move in.

She looked up, hearing the cars screech to a halt, and looked around, sensing someone else was in the building. Sniffing, she smelt their fearful sweat, and heard muffled whimpers. She wiped her mouth, and got up slowly. The man who had hidden himself behind the counter trembled quite noticeably, and sweat like a pig before the slaughter. Creeping up behind the counter like a tiger on the prowl, she then leapt upon the top. “Ah!” She covered his mouth as she hopped down, and swung over like a monkey on a vine.

“Shh!”

She held his mouth, staying out of the light, and looked towards the doors. The cops and SWAT team still stood outside devising a plan on getting in.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she told him. “I always have a witness, and don’t tend to kill any of them.” She pulled something out of her pocket. “Give this to them once they come in and ask questions.” She handed him a small gray figurine in the shape of an eagle. “Just know this. She’s not dead. Only unconscious. She’ll recover by tomorrow morning, but not remember a thing.” “You robbed her?”

She shook her head, and then revealed her claws. “Only drew some blood.” She turned her head slightly, hearing the SWAT team tiptoeing into the two corridors.

“Do as I say. Otherwise you’ll be next.” Then, like the swift wind, she disappeared without a trace.

The SWAT members flashed their gun lights every which way, but found nothing. The man came out of his hiding place, hands up.

“Don’t shoot, please don’t shoot. I’m the one who called.”

The others kept looking as one of the others escorted him outside.

“She’s not here anymore,” he told them before they stepped out. Trusting him, they exited. The leader went to the chief. “She’s not here. She’s escaped.” “How do you know it was a she?”

“The witness told us so.”

“Oh did he?”

“He gave me this.” He held out the figurine.

“Again? That’s the 6th attack this week. And it’s only Wednesday. How are we supposed to contain her if we don’t know where she is?” “We’re doing our best to resolve the situation.”

“Well do better. If this gets to the press, the public will not respond well.”

“Yes sir.”

Meanwhile, she watched from a water tower that stood over the crime scene. “That was too close of a call. Next time I’ll make sure no one is around,” she thought, standing up with that last comment. She faced south, spread her arms, and fell forward. The wind caught her glider suit, and she headed home.

“Is it fatal?”

“Actually not. She’s just unconscious, which is surprising since she was slit here.” The chief looked at the woman on the cot. The side of her neck had been cut. “How on earth can someone cut somebody there and the victim only be unconscious?” “This person must’ve had a doctoral past time. Otherwise she would be dead right now.”

The chief pondered that, and then asked, “What’d you say?”

“The person would need to be a doctor or surgeon at some point in time in order to make such a precise cut.” The chief’s face widened with knowledge, and he rushed over to his car. “All units report back to base. Meet me in the conference room.” The culprit flew over town, over the police station, and to the outskirts of town, to the forest. She pulled the parachute, and angled it towards her hiding place. Once she landed, she detached herself, and threw it in a ball to repack it later. She walked over to a wall of moss covered rock, and then placed her hand on the only open space. A light went up and down, scanning her hand, and then it beeped. An air tight seal hissed as it cracked open. She looked behind her, and to either side to make absolutely sure that no one saw or followed her. Grabbing the edge of the door, she started inside, but paused just in the crack to look again. Seeing the coast was clear, she closed it.

“Iris. There you are. Where have you been? You know what the rules are. Never leave,”

“The cave after 10. I know Uncle Grinshaw. But if you were listening this morning, I told you that I was feeling a little out of sorts.” “You went out, and caused a ruckus. Didn’t you? And don’t think about lying because I had the police scanner on, worried about you. You gave out the symbol again.” Iris just hung up her glider suit, and headed to her room.

“Yes. I did. Now if you excuse me, I have memories to erase, and cleanup research to do.”

Her uncle sighed. “Alright fine. Just know that we’ll be having a discussion tomorrow.”

She didn’t answer, and he sighed again. “Good night!”

Iris turned sharply. “Good night Uncle.” And with that, she went to her room.

Iris walked a little ways before she reached a large white wall that looked to have no door. She looked to the floor, and stepped on a specific tile that made a computer come out of the wall. She typed the password, her name, and date of birth, and then a retinal scanner appeared. Iris leaned in and let it scan her eyes. “Welcome Iris,” a computer generated voice said as the wall began to slide to the left. As it opened just enough for her tiny body to get through, she entered, and the wall began to shut again.

“Good evening, Iris,” another computer said.

“Evening Charles,” she responded, putting down her gloves on the white table, and continuing to walk.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Not tonight. What’s new?” she asked sitting down in front of the 75 inch computer screen.

“Well, that man you ran into the other night is moving right along, and is doing as you requested.” “Good.”

“And I thought I’d let you know that one of the paramedics that helped clean up from tonight gave a helpful hint to the chief of police.” “What sort of hint?” The computer showed her a clip from a security camera from the street. “The person would need to be a doctor or surgeon at some point in time in order to make such a precise cut.” “Hmm. Wipe the hospital’s records of my being there clean. I don’t want them finding me so easily.” “Of course, madam.” It did so, and in the matter of seconds too. “Process complete.”

“Thank you. Anything else to free me up?”

“There is a new target the CIA is trying to hunt down.”

“What? It’s not me anymore? They give up too easily,” she said sarcastically.

“Well they haven’t been able to find you for three years now.”

“True. But still. Who is this new target?”

The computer brought up one of the CIA files, and showed Iris a picture of the man they were after.

“His name is Reginald Spaak. He is more commonly known as Justice Cameira though.”

“Highly inappropriate, but okay.”

“He’s been kidnapping people for some time now, but those chasing you made them ignore the situation.” “So what does he do?”

“He is a constructor by day, but a black fox by night.”

Iris stopped rocking, and looked at the screen. “What do you mean a black fox?”

“I’m sure he’s nothing like you, madam, but that’s what they call him. A metaphor for the way he does things.” She sat back, but still wondered.

“Here’s something that might interest you.” He put away the file, and drug out a live stream from an ally camera. “Look, I don’t have anything.” “Give me your money! It’s either that or your life!” Silence.

“Give it to me!”

“Okay, okay, here.” The older lady threw her purse over to him. He caught it, and dumped it out, looking for some cash. Seeing the expensive cell phone and jewelry however, he took those instead, and ran away.

“Coward,” Iris said. “He’s just looking for a quick buck. Charles, rewind it, and zoom in on the man’s face.” He did so, and Iris memorized his face. “Okay, is there a camera that shows me the view from the outside?” The computer switched points of view. “Zoom in on the woman.” He did so, and she memorized her face. “The back door still opened?” “Your uncle went and locked it, changing the code so that I couldn’t tell you.” She turned in the chair, “Darn it. I guess I’ll have to do it tomorrow.” She got up, and walked over to her closet to get into her white satin pajamas. Charles put on the lights in there so she wouldn’t stumble.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, being a computer and all, I’d say you already worked for the FBI or CIA themselves,” he told her.

She flipped her long, red hair out as she put on the top. “Well knowing better, you and I both know that I would never work for either of them, and choose the secret service instead.” “Yes. I know that quite well,” he answered.

She stepped out, and he turned off the closet light - turning a lamp on as he pulled out the bed from the wall.

“Just out of curiosity, has the outside world discovered my kind of technology yet?” She trimmed down the bed, and answered, “No, not yet.” “Bummer. Anything else before you turn in?”

Iris looked up in thought. “Maybe just some soft music to help set my mind at ease.”

“As you wish.” The music started, and the lights dimmed. “Good night Iris.”

“Night Charles.” She answered, tucking her shoulder under the sheets, and setting her hand upon the pillow.

Dawn came, and Charles played some music to wake her, and Iris woke.

“Good morning Iris. I’ve woken you at the time you usually request.”

She slowly sat up, and yawned. “Thank you, Charles. So, what’s my schedule like today?” she asked getting up, and walking over to the hot cocoa dispenser that was serving a cup to her. “Today is pretty busy, but I know that you’ll see it as any other day. First on the agenda, your uncle requests that you take care of the cat. It’s your turn, he said.” “Okay,” she said sipping her cocoa.

“Secondly, there is that incident from last night that needs to be taken care of.”

“Which incident?”

“The man wishing to make, a quick buck, I believe you said.”

“Aw.”

“Shall I continue?”

Iris looked down the list, seeing what all she had to do. “No. I got the gist of it. It will all be done by 10 anyway.” “As you wish, madam.”

Iris already started to get up, but that word bugged her. She turned back around, and looked at the screen.

“Charles.”

“Yes?”

She slid back to her previous position. “What did I say about you calling me madam?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It seemed to have slipped my memory. It won’t happen again...mistress.”

Iris smiled. “Thank you.”

“And, mistress.”

She turned around again.

“Your claws are exposed.”

Looking down at her hands, she realized it was true. “Ugh, that always happens when I wake up. Thank you, Charles.” “You’re welcome.”

She got up swiftly and found herself in the closet faster than expected. She looked along the racks for an outfit to wear, but she didn’t see any she felt like wearing in the front, so she moved down to the back. Scanning the back racks, she soon found an outfit worthy of the day. Iris changed quickly, and moved on out to start her chores.

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