Thread: The Urban Jungle

Consciousness came slowly, the mind numbing darkness giving way to a hazy mist before thoughts became distinguishable. He opened his eyes to the pitch black and for a time, just lay there in the dark and the silence. After a while, however, his pupils began to fill up with a weak, red glow and the small space became visible to his enhanced vision. It was the inside of a box bed not situated on legs, but rather an enclosed frame of wood directly on the floor with a mattress on top. Inconspicuous enough, it would give him him some valuable time of ever the police entered his apartment during the day. He put up a hand and pushed the bed top up like a coffin lid and got out. His black and white vision showed him a purposefully darkened living space, cardboard taped across the windows and not a plant in sight. Looking to the bed table, a clock shone the digits 7.40 and told Julio, who already knew, that the sun had set. The glow disappeared from his eyes and he flipped the light switches, lighting the few, weak bulbs in the place. A quick shower, not much more than a few moments under the nozzle as he didn't actually sweat, after which he turned on the TV as he toweled himself, listening to the news. His handiwork hadn't earned specific mention, but the news anchor droned on about shootings and other reports of gang related violence in the city. Checking his phone for messages only to find none, he got dressed and exited the third floor flat to see what he could find out for himself back at those apartment buildings. Convincing the landlord to let him inside the woman's home wouldn't be difficult and she probably wasn't at home at this time of day. He caught a taxi and sat back to relax for the duration of the trip when, suddenly, his phone went off. Fishing it out of his pocket he looked on the screen to see he had received a mail from a secret number titled Watts. Mr. Grey had wasted no time, it seemed. He opened the message and read its contents Victoria Watts LAPD investigator Office at the downtown station Partner named Justice What followed was some statistics like her date of birth, years with the service, family members and their addresses as well as some info about her car that Julio was already familiar with. The mail ended with a reminder that he could expect his favours owed to be called in within then ear future. He sighed, needlessly, and turned his head to the window, seeing the right neighbourhood coming closer as he did. And then, surprisingly, his eyes locked onto the visage of one woman among many, walking down along the sidewalk ahead of the cab in the opposite direction. It was the errant miss Watts he presently gazed upon and quickly he told the driver to let him off where they were, handed over a few bills and got outside to look after the woman. He thought he caught a glimpse of her vanishing into a restaurant. A Chinese resaurant, in fact. Hurrying across the street, he approached the place and looked in through one of the large windows. Yes, that was her alright. Taking off his sunglasses, because the lighting inside was subdued, he opened the door and stepped inside. The place was tastefully decorated, none of the gaudy statues and carved wood of the more upscale Chinese restaurants. The aromas of cooking wafted out of the kitchen to permeate the main space and people stood in line to order. Watts was at the end of that very line, until Julio took up the spot behind her. Thumbs in his jeans pockets he struck a comfortably relaxed pose and said just loud enough for her to hear Spring rolls and good at this place?