"What do you mean 'she's still alive'?"

That was the question of the hour, wasn't it? It's something I never thought would be called into question; but here I am, seated behind my desk as Mikael Carron, my new assistant and her replacement sits across from me and tells me the news for the fifth time.

"I mean, Emily Crawford is still alive and well, Miss Tigris."

"That's bullshit. I saw her die."

"Well it looks like you saw wrong, or she's a fuckin' ghost."

I can't help but feel I've let Mikael get too comfortable around me. He puts his feet up on my desk and shoots me a shit eating grin as if his continued insistence on an absolute impossibility will somehow take me off edge. I grab him by his ankles and shove his feet back onto the ground and get out of my seat, staring daggers into his eyes as he slowly sits back up straight. Frantically, I begin pacing back and forth, pressing my hands against both ears to block out his continued adherence to this asinine fallacy. Surely, this is some kind of elaborate ruse. A joke. It has to be.

"Alright. I'll bite," I start, letting all the air out of my lungs. "Where did she turn up?"

"That's the weird part, boss."

"What's the weird part?"

"She popped up, by name, in El Salvador. The very same El Salvador that our contact Zielwig went dark in a while back."

"Come again?"

"Zielwig. You know: dark hair, Russian accent?"

"No no no, back it up a bit. By name?"

It's like he's trying to annoy me with something so obviously false. Oh wait, that's exactly what's going on right here. I stop pacing and spin around on one heel, laying both my hands down on the table. His eyes widen as they meet with mine and he sees just how positively unamused I am with his antics. Why, why am I giving so much credence to such a wild claim? It's stupid, I know this and yet I keep trying to dismiss it. Trying. I should've dismissed it already. I shouldn't still be thinking about how preposterous it is!

"Don't you think that's a little odd?"

"It's true Boss."

"Okay, fine. I believe you," I say in an ironically unconvincing voice. "Why do you think she decided to pop up now if she's alive? Better yet, why do you think she decided it would be such a brilliant idea to not even change her name?"

"I don't fucking know."

"Let me tell you why you don't know. It's because it didn't fucking happen! I was there when Crawford got shot. I saw her fucking die. There's no way that she's just fine and dandy, on vacation in El fucking Salvador."

"What about the alien freaks you sold out? The ones with the weird teleporting ability?"

"Montenegro? No, he's much too prideful to go that route."

I can't believe I'm actually falling for this. I'm an idiot. My right hand clenches tightly into a fist and pounds on the top of the table, causing Mikael to jump almost out of his seat. That's right. I'm still in control here, not him and his entirely believable facade. No. No no no no no no! It isn't believable, not in the slightest. I choke back every urge to scream and lose my temper entirely as to appear somewhat calm and collected regarding this manner even though on the inside I can feel my blood beginning to boil and singe the bottom most layer of skin.

"Look, I know you're thinking I'm bullshitting you, but I'm not. It's all over the news!"

"Oh right, the media happens to know all about my partnership with a dead woman and how she showed up in El Salvador of all places!"

"Not that part! For Christ's sake, have you even watched the news in the last 48 hours?"

"The news?"

I start to laugh; slightly at first but it soon erupts into a loud, hysterical outburst.

"You believe the news?"

"Of course not; but they gotta have some facts straight and who it is being the figurehead for a regime is usually a good place to start."

"Figurehead?"

"Yes ma'am. Turns out Crawford got in bed with someone, she's the President of El Salvador."

"Get me a picture. Nothing photoshopped either. You might be my assistant but I won't hesitate to slice your throat."

Mikael doesn't hesitate for a second before getting out of his seat and then eventually my office. I fall back into my chair and rest my hands in my lap, thrusting my head back to look up at the ceiling. Now, the moments of questioning start to sink in. The first and foremost of the silent accusations being of course: why am I buying this?

I don't know.

What does Emily Crawford's sudden resurgence have to do with me?

I don't know.

What am I going to do to her if she is in fact in El Salvador and I get my hands on her?

"Boss?" Mikael asks as he enters my office once again and I return his greeting by waving him over to my desk. Apparently, he must've assumed I was going to crack eventually and was smart enough to prepare proof ahead of time. However, he wasn't smart enough to keep it on him. Or he was and wanted to give me a chance to cool down before slapping me in the face with whatever evidence he had on him. He slides the photograph over to me; a screen shot from a news report showing the face of a woman staring slightly to the left of the camera. It wasn't a screen capture no, it was a picture from what I guess was a cell phone's camera pointed at a TV screen. Whatever meaningless headline was under the woman's picture was cut off on both sides.

All I could really focus on was her face.

Mid twenties, brown hair, darker complexion, eerily familiar.

A scar on her forehead, close to where I remember the bullet entering her skull.

Back to the question of what I'm going to do her once I find her?

Finish the fucking job.