Detective in the crosshairs

Mornings in New York are usually quite chilly. People on the streets are always hurrying along with coffee cups in hand and big coats.

From the window of a downtown apartment, Morgana watched these people. Each one going about their lives, not caring about anything but walking according to fashion or signing the next millionaire's contract.

She brought her honey-colored eyes to the watch on her wrist, checking the time. Morgana had a date with the mob boss she served in, and she doesn't like to meet with Daryl, the famous and feared Canino.

Usually, these meetings end with her going after some target and getting blood on her hands.

She let out a deep sigh, turning her back to the window. She grabbed her cell phone and a gun, leaving her apartment in the same minute.

She sped her car through the busy streets of New York City, experiencing a fine drizzle. Before reaching the shed where the organization meets, Morgana bought two coffees. One for herself and the other for Daryl.

She parked in front of the shed, going inside with the coffees in hand. Inside, everything was as it had always been. In fact, abandoned. Debris filled the whole place and a leak formed puddles on the floor.

Morgan walked to a rusty old door. She knocked, feeling tired.

- What's your name?

Someone asked from inside.

- Morgana.

A small window in the door opened, revealing two pairs of disdainful blue eyes. Then the window closed and the door opened.

Morgana entered, saying nothing to the man who opened the door for her. She knew Ian well and they did not get along well.

She went downstairs, arriving at the headquarters. The only thing that cheered everyone up was the huge tatami on which one challenged the other to diatrairem. Morgana walked around the tatami, observing who was fighting. It was Beatrice and Kevin, and he was beating the crap out of her.

- Fight back, Bea!

- Go, Kevin!

Some people cheered. Some there even bet money on each other. It's what took the boredom out of all those criminals.

Morgana looked away from them to climb a ladder that led to the rooms above the tatami. Everything there was very dark and dimly lit. It smelled of cigarettes.

She stopped in front of Daryl's room and knocked twice, hearing his permission to enter. Morgana crossed the door with no emotion on her face. She walked up to him, who was leaning against the big table there. Daryl looked at her and smiled.

- Hello, my love.

- Let's get on with it.

Morgan held out the coffee, then settled down on the chair in front of the table. He smiled at her as he left the coffee cup on the table.

- In a bad mood? I know how I can help you with that.

- I'm just in a hurry.

She corrects him.

- Okay, let's get to work.

Daryl leaves the table, taking a thick yellow folder and hands it to Morgan. She takes the folder and opens it. The picture of a man makes her lips open.

- Is this the target?

She asks, staring at the photo stuck to the page by a staple.

- Yes, this is William Bele. The head of the task force that has been hunting us for the past two years and the top detective in the field at the moment. It needs to be deleted.

Morgan closes the folder and lets out a sigh, ignoring the fact that she was impressed by her target's beauty.

- Of course you do, otherwise I wouldn't be here.

- That's right. You are the best among us for the job.

- Why are you using a figure of speech? Just tell me right to my face that I'm going to have to kill this cop.

There was indignation in her voice. Morgana doesn't like the role she plays.

- Okay, you'll have to kill the policeman. I know you don't like it, but you are so skilled and genius that I only trust you to do it. Besides, that's not all.

Daryl went to a small makeshift bar in the living room and poured himself something strong. He offered it to her, who promptly accepted, leaving the coffee on the table.

Morgana rose from her chair and stopped beside him.

- What more do I have to do?

- One of our people was killed in the last operation. You remember, right?

Morgan nods, remembering a few months ago that one of the members of the organization had been killed. She just didn't want to know too much about it, since she didn't know him as well as Daryl did.

He held out the glass with the drink and she took it.

- Luke was our hacker, with him we closed many advantageous deals. The problem is, when he was caught, his computer and all our information went with it. I need you to recover our data and only then, you can kill the wretch.

Morgan drank and then faced Daryl.

- How do you think I'm going to do that. He was the hacker, not me.

Daryl let out a laugh, bringing his hand up to Morgana's face, giving it a manipulative caress.

- I've already taken care of that. Tomorrow you start as his secretary. The previous one drowned while practicing free-swimming.

His ironic expression revealed everything. It was clear to Morgan that he had sent someone to kill the poor girl.

She rolled her eyes at him and walked back to the table. She put down her glass and picked up the folder, opening it and looking once more at the photo.

- I have no choice, do I?

- No. It's either you or it's only a matter of time before everyone gets to us.

Daryl assured her that the future of the organization was in her hands.Morgan closed the folder and poured all the drink from the glass at once, taking one last look at the man in front of her.

Daryl smiled.

- I like it when you look at me like that.

- When I look at you with the desire to kill you too?

- Angrily. Your eyes are beautiful, but you hide so many feelings I don't know about.

He caressed her face again.

- You should come around more often. Practice a little with the rest of us, beat Beatrice. She hates you, you know.

- Everybody hates me. I'm the strongest and no one bosses me around, unlike all of them.

Daryl smiled again, holding her chin tightly and kissing Morgana's lips softly. Then he looked into her eyes.

- That's why I love you, my love.

Morgana rolled her eyes and left the room. She had work to do and it wasn't just breaking a neck or taking a shot. She would have to infiltrate the enemy camp well.