Joyride

Claire's jacket flutters in the wind as she races down a dusty road.

She'd never ridden a motorcycle before, but she had plenty of memories of them. The instructor charged with the intro to black bag operations was an amusing woman. She seemed deliberately picked to coax information out that the usual testing couldn't pick up. "If you think you can hide from us, you're wrong" was the clear message behind the course. Still, some of her peers were buttered up by her, and if Claire was being, she somewhat liked the woman too.

Not enough to not steal her motorcycle, but still.

Besides, she had a rather large collection and this one complimented Claire so well. It had a sleek design, a surprisingly quiet engine, and was a nice, deep black that would really make her hair pop when she took off the helmet she stole along with it. The better reason for not stealing from some super spy femme fatale was that even after removing the obvious trackers, the Center likely wouldn't need a genius to identify their own agent's bike. She'd need some time and tools to really rip the thing apart and would still probably have the ditch it.

That was a worry for later though. Right now Claire needed the attention the stolen vehicle would get her. Latching onto some of the Center's goons when they came looking for an easy target was the best way to keep tabs on both their actions and those of her peers. Grouping up seemed a bit dangerous to her. Some were higher priority targets than others, and if too many were together the General might think they were planning something. Still, having a network was vital even if she intended to keep her distance.

Claire slows down as she turns into a small town. The cameras would need clear pictures of her and the vehicle. She rolls up to a gas station and dramatically removes the helmet, her pale locks really do stand out against the dark bike. Her eyes lock onto the man behind the counter as an image of his view appears in her mind. The snack section is just out of view of him and the cameras. Nice.

She deftly snatches the wallet of the only other customer as she makes her way to the counter, staring directly into a camera as she forks over the cash to fill up. The tank was actually rather large, but placing your secret military complex in the middle of nowhere was a great way to make someone burn through gas whenever they left. Of course, this likely wasn't a problem for most of the staff since they seemed to practically live there. With the transaction done Clair exits and unwraps one of the chocolate bars stashed in her pockets as lets the tank top off.

Her eyes scan the streets as she goes through the recent memories of random townsfolk. This was both for her own amusement and to see who else might have passed through. She doubted anyone was still around even if they had. The Center wasn't so far away and this place didn't exactly seem to have the densest population to hide amongst.

Bingo. She gives one last smile to the cameras while revving the bike's engine, kicking up clouds of sand as she peels away. It's a bit vain, but she can't help but use the surrounding bystanders like cameras to view herself from.

She might not have specialized in seduction, but that didn't mean a girl couldn't look good while being a spy.