New Orleans was strangely cold this night. What was even more strange was the deserted Bourbon Street which is usually packed with people. This night, it was naked; wrappers and papers swept across the street in the whistling wind. At the corner of a Voodoo shop, stood Agent Bella. The few people shuffling through the street did not notice anything strange with such a beauty standing in such an odd place.
Bella was shaking ridiculously in the cold, with only a bra and pants on. She wore a heavy makeup and she recently had a quick non-permanent tattoo earlier that day. She obviously could have passed for a junkie. Tonight, she was doing role play. Her name tonight was 'Petra', a whore. She has used almost three months to practice her role and was sure she had perfected it.
A black sadan car drove slowly to a stop just close to where Bella stood. She strode idly to the car, the wind shield slid down and a file was handed over to her. No words, the car moved on. Bella felt the weight of the file. A smile crossed her lips. The CIA has always been precise about execution of missions. She flipped open the file. Pictures of the subject were glued to almost each page with detailed personal information. The man in the picture was cute, strong, with a pretty stubble. 'What a shame', Bella felt pity for him already, but the mission had been clear, eliminate the subject.
Bella, picked up the note clipped on the last page. It was where she was to find the subject. She had already known, for the man was a pervert and a rogue, reasons why the CIA wanted him out of the way. She read the note, folded it up, and then nudged it into the gutter with her feet. she cocked the gun that was inserted in the file, perfect, she put it back.
Bella walked in quick confident strides to a night club four blocks away. Above the club swung a post: THE FAMOUS DOOR, Bella walked in. It took her quite a while before she could locate the man with the exact same features with that in the picture. And when she did, the rest was too easy, after-all, she was a naturalist. She maintained eye contact, danced rhythmically, sliding up and down the strip poles and momentarily flirting with other 'clients' so as not to give away her cover.
The man on the other table, the 'subject' was totally captivated. He sat there grinning, moving his fingers across the edge of his vodka filled glass. It was too easy to seduce him, Bella thought and she was impressed with how swift the mission was going.
The man stretched in the sofa, his stubble shinning in the poor lighting of the club house. He picked up his glass, not taking his eyes off Bella, not for once. She matched, perfectly so, the features of the woman he was about to eliminate. Pretty Agent Bella, code name 'Henry', and he gave a weary sigh, too bad the CIA wanted this female agent out of the way, for reasons he didn't care to know. His work was to deliver, and he planned to. He drank his vodka and folded his sleeves, it was going to be a long night after-all.
Written for 
I used the prompt "She read the note, folded it up, and nudged it into the gutter with her foot"
I also used the artwork by 
