Cobra

Nikkita took a deep breath. She rolled her head from one side to the other- earning loud pops from in between her vertebrae. She shook out her arms- relieving the tension built up by inactivity- she did the same with her legs. Her toes achingly pressed against the inside her high heeled boots from standing for so long. Most of the time, she was anything but fidgety- but in this case the ceaseless movements seemed to fit the "character" she was supposed to be. Nikkita had never been through withdrawal or had even done recreational drugs- but she acted the part effectively nonetheless. She fumbled with the pouches of cocaine in her pocket as someone in a hood walked towards her.

"About damn time, Jack." Nikkita grumbled to the hooded man meant to relieve her. "I've been standing here for like half an hour more than my shift ."

"Yeah, well I'm here now." He said in a raspy voice with a thick French accent. "You can go. See Boss first, though."

Nikkita nodded and handed over her left over pouches.

"Why does he want to see me?" She asked.

"I'm not sure. Did you not make a quota? You know what happens to the dealers who don't make quotas…" Jack trailed off.

"You know I do… I was the one that had to get rid of the last body." But of course she had let SHEILD know the location.

"Oh! He trusted you enough to get rid of a body? Aren't you special…" He sneered.

"Because having to get rid of a murder victim's body is really a gift to me." Nikkita murmured sarcastically.

"In our line of work- it kind of is. If boss trusts you enough to take care of a body - he probably won't off you for missing a quota."

"I never missed a quota. I've always made nearly twice the necessary cash." She admitted.

"Aren't you just the perfect worker bee…" Jack snarled. "Well get on your way- he's waiting for you right now. And if he's going to offer you a higher rank, you really don't want to be late."

"Yeah, whatever Jack." She chuckled before she turned to walk out from the dark alley and turn left onto the nearly empty street.

Nikkita immediately felt bad for Jack. There very few people in the area at this time of night. Even drug addicts weren't out at three in the morning on a Wednesday. Of course, that would mean less profit for Jack. He wouldn't be able to make his quota; so by this time tomorrow Boss will be getting rid of his body. Nikkita hoped they'd just shoot him in the head- he had been a good dealer (an ironic concept) so hopefully they would drag his death out any more then necessary. Having people murdered around her was one of the main points of her job description- so she attempted to not feel guilt or any other emotion regarding her job, besides the natural empathy felt by non-sociopathic humans. But, Jack had simply drawn the short straw when it came to shift and area- and for that he had to die, in Boss' eyes.

She tugged aimlessly on the edge of her white t-shirt as her heels clicked against the sidewalk. She really hated Boss; as she hated most of the people she was sent to take care of. But for some reason- this guy got under her skin more then most of the others. He acted incredibly pompous, flaunting the money that his dealers made for him from selling drugs that his so-called "scientists" made. Not to mention that he pulled kids from troubled homes off the street to become dealers- only to kill them off if they wanted to leave.

After Nikkitas feet carried her a few blocks- she wound up in front of the seemingly abandoned apartment building that Boss used as a sort of head quarters for his "business". She climbed the front steps of the French styled building. Parisian structures were Nikkita's favorite kind of architecture. She'd been to tons of countries on nearly every continent (except for Antarctica, of course) but French gothic architecture was her absolute favorite style. This apartment building was no different- but the connotation in Nikkita's mind of this particular place made it ugly in her eyes. Her head snapped up at the sound of police sirens a few blocks away. She quickly opened the door and ducked inside the building. Usually anyone caught on the streets of these kind of neighborhoods on the outskirts of Paris at this time of night was at least taken note of- and Nikkita couldn't risk getting on anyone's radar before she earned Boss' trust. That way- he wouldn't have her killed for allowing the police to catch wind of any kind of illegal activity.

"Nikkita, he has another body drop for you to do." Nikkita turned around to see a young woman.

Her name was Camille and she was basically Boss' assistant. She handled meetings and finances too. Her position was essentially what Nikkita was after- it would be the perfect position to take down the entire organization. At this point, she had enough evidence to arrest Boss- but not enough to take down every facet of the organization. For that, Nikkita would need all the records and names that Camille's job title would have.

"Is he going to make an appearance, himself?" Nikkita asked.

"No. He's not here. He just wanted me to pass along the message and take your profits from your shift." Camille said monotonously. "You're lucky."

"For getting to dump another body?" Nikkita asked sarcastically.

"He trusts you to not fuck stuff up." Camille scoffed. "That generally means you won't end up as the body that needs dumping."

"So where's the body?"

"Out back in a dumpster. Boss got sick of it taking up space in his office." Camille shrugged. Nikkita rolled her eyes subtly.

"Who is it?" She asked.

"No one you've met." Camille replied, turning to a desk behind her. "Just do it, Corinne." Nikkita winced internally at the use of her false name.

Nikkita nodded and turned to leave the building. As she made her way down the stairs, Nikkita thought to herself. What would she have to do to get rid of Camille? She needed to get the information. As much as Nikkita loved living in Paris- she needed to get this job finished. She had assumed this identity nearly three months ago- which was long for one of Nikkita's assignments. Although her specialty was hand to hand combat and assuming alternate identities- she wasn't entirely happy about staying in one place for very long. Nikkita enjoyed shorter missions- simple snatch and grabs; getting info quick and easy and taking the person or organization down within days or even hours.

She stepped off the stairs and started making her way to the alley where the dumpster was. A police car swerved around the corner and two officers jumped out.

"Arrêtez, police!" One shouted and held up a gun.

She raised her hands- she couldn't risk running and becoming wanted. Maybe at this point- getting arrested would be good. Perhaps it would make Boss trust her more. Nikkita had been arrested undercover before- SHIELD would just make any evidence against her disappear and she'd be free to go. Usually being arrested would only raise her position in the organizations- earning "street-cred" so to speak. So, the two French police men arrested Nikkita without much of a struggle. Even though she hardly know what grounds they had to even arrest her. But she just let it happen.

A few hours later, she sat in her dark cell- the sun just now starting to rise. She was in some small prison in the outskirts of Paris. The only other person in the holding cell had been taken away about an hour ago. So, Nikkita sat on the hard metallic bench alone. Any guards the holding cells had were outside the main door. Of course the bench was uncomfortable, the cell was cold, and she was bored out of her mind- Nikkita had been held in much worse conditions. She had endured seemingly endless torture at the hands of terrorist organizations or drug lords- this was like a walk in the park when it came to punishments. Nikkita could sit motionless for hours on end if she really needed to, so she just twiddled her thumbs.

The metallic door into the holding room creaked open- Nikkita didn't even glance up. Just another guard, babbling in French. Heavy footsteps got closer and Nikkita eventually saw feet on the store floor in front of the cell bars. She could tell immediately who it was by the stupid black elf-looking shoes. Nikkita grimaced.

"Clint you jackass."