San Francisco, California - 2:30 PM - Joe[]s Coffee Shop 

Katelyn sat by herself in a corner booth, facing out onto the water.  From here, she watched the construction crews rebuilding the bridge to SOMETHING Island.  It had been almost a year since the bridge had fallen during the latest scuffle between citizens and government.  Some idiot had decided to blow it up and inconvenience those who still had jobs and had to commute.  Katelyn would never understand the way the ‘privileged poor’ thought.  Not participating in society, but benefiting from its mechanisms, the up and coming social class in America had decided it didn’t need to give in order to receive.  After all, there was enough to go around for everyone, right?  And damn those multinational corporations that gave it to them - how dare they have power?

Well, whoever blew up the bridge had created some jobs, alright.  Day and Night Construction crews kept this coffee shop busy nowadays.  It used to be empty during the week until they came to town.  Bits of Portugese and Spanish floated over the din of plates and coffee cups.  Her phone rang and she quickly picked it off the table to answer it.

“Yeah…”  

“You’re sure it’s done?”

“I’ll let him know at once.  You can expect payment as discussed when he is happy with the results.”

Katelyn pulled down the phone, pressed a speed dial button and held it up to her left ear this time.  With her now free right hand, she grabbed her notepad and swiped across it to record the time and date of the call.

“It’s done..”

“All right, see you then”  

She hung up the phone and swiped another logged call into her notepad.  Without organization, life swiftly fell into disorder.  Her obsessive note-taking was the only thing keeping her sane.  She signaled for the check from the busy-looking waitress and looked out the window again.  It was a gorgeous day, and with this latest venture out of the way, she might even be able to concentrate on spending time out of doors.  A walk in the park would be nice right about now.  It would be evening before she saw Karl, and the rest of her day was now free.  A smile crept across her face as the check arrived a moment later.  Thankful that she had a job, of sorts, she knew that enjoying the coffeehouses that San Francisco was famous for was a luxury that only the working class could afford any more.  And with this latest score, nothing was going to get in the way of her enjoying that little luxury for the rest of her life.

As Katelyn reached into her pocket and counted out exact change, the working men at the next table got up and left.  As Katelyn left, her cell phone sat on the table, abandoned, never to be used again.  When the federal agents arrived in a few hours, they would find only a confused waitress and a melted casing.