FBI Field Office. Atlanta, Georgia.
“So, who do we have on our home grown freak list?” Asked Alan Mansfield, the Special Agent in Charge of the Atlanta division. He took his seat at the head of the conference table, sifting through the stacks of thick dark green folders with Classified written across each of them.
A round, balding man was the first to speak. “Jennifer ‘JJ’ Jureau, twenty-seven year old mathematician at a research firm for USA and one hell of a looker.” He said before letting out whistle. “She's as smart as she is pretty. She’s into kickboxing but I don’t think she’ll be a problem. Even if she runs there nothing to indicate she’ll be good at it. Upper class family, mother is a neurosurgeon, father an engineer. P.H.D at age twenty-five and a booty that-” He was quickly cut off by the man at the head of the table shouting for him to stop talking.
Without a moment's delay another someone else spoke up. A middle aged man with glasses. “Next we have Luna Yvilkov. We don't have a lot on her though. We think her father had Russian mob connection but we don't really know…” He paused for a scolding that didn't come. “Anyhow, we think after her father died in an accident, she moved with her mother to the Philippines. Records get even more dicy after that it she graduated ‘The Guardians’ at around sixteen.” He said with air quotes.
“The name might a bit on the nose but for bodyguards, they don’t get much better. Every bit as dedicated and dangerous as any jihadist. Wish I had ten like her.” A man with close cropped hair hair said. His manner was that of a lifelong soldier. “She’s gonna be a problem. She won't go down with a fight .” He concluded his thoughts with a glares from around the table. To those around the table, a soldier's place was on the battlefield, not here.
The middle aged man with glasses cleared his throat before continuing. “Luna Yvilkov is currently working for Ashton Conway and as of ten minutes ago, she's with him now.” He said adjusting his glasses. The two plus Jureau were last sighting entering a club in town.”
A heavy sigh came from the lifelong soldier, annoyed by his counterparts action.”Ashton Conway, former CEO of Conway Industries. He stepped down when his company's stock started to tank. Banks don’t really want to do business with him, nor does anyone else but he won’t go bankrupt anytime soon. Legally, as far as we know he’s done nothing wrong so we can’t hold or freeze his assets.” He said never bothering to look at the file. “He won’t be much of a problem. Especially if we can isolate his bodyguard.
“There is also a little girl, Violet Black, fifteen years old, bounced around a lot with her parents. Homeschooled most of her life, did a little public school before taking some online college classes… Wish my kids were that motivated. Anyhow we're still working on some more intel on her. The has records all of the world.” Said the Soldier in the suite.
“Alright, what are these other files from… Harlan Kentucky?” Alan Mansfield asked without every looking up at anyone. “...From the London office? This is out of jurisdiction.” He stated flatly.
The eager middle aged man with glasses was quick to speak. “I asked for them, We know only of one other event like what happened here. That was in Harlan county. No files we have stand out for any reason, just some dumb hillbillies who walked into the circumstance. All of them all unremarkable. Isaac Reynolds, is career criminal specializing in petty theft. Demarcus and Parker Blake, interracial siblings. Demarcus works at a lumber mill and Parker is a waitress at a dinner. Another seventeen year old waitress from Danville named Lynette Marshal and some coal miner named Elijah Craigh. He was in the military, we’re waiting on the DoD to send us his files. From the look of things, local sheriff's office has them all in custody.” The middle aged man with the glasses ended, secure in the fact he had outshined everyone else at the table.
“Alright, get a swat team on the three at the club. Make it as quick as possible, I don’t even want to see this one the news. Got it? I want everything on the this Criagh guy and little girl.” Alan Mansfield said look through the stacks of folders. “We’re done here.”
As everyone left, it was solider that had a concerned look on this face. He could have sworn he had heard the name ‘Craigh’ somewhere but he couldn’t place it.