She sits in a chair in an ancient looking study, surrounded by bookshelves. The room is lit by candles and she is writing in a large book.

"I could be killed for writing this if it ever fell into the wrong hands, but I am safe here, and the world needs to know what I am writing. I write to remember who I was and to explore what I have become.

"I suppose that it all began for me in 1994, when I obtained the stone that I wear today..."

It's night in New York City, the light of the moon not penetrating beyond the neon and streetlight's of the sprawling megalopolis. The street is fairly empty, only a few stragglers seeking the safety of home or the prey for the evening. On the right side of the street is a large gothic museum. Seen from the front, the museum is an imposing structure with the dark gargoyles and large columns. On the roof, a black shape moves, cat-like.

She runs across the roof towards a skylight. She is dressed in all black, skintight with pockets everywhere. A strap runs across her chest holding up a black leather satchel that belts around her waist as well. She reaches into the satchel and pulls out a glass cutter. A large suction cup with a bar, about two feet long when extended, that has a glass cutter attached to the end. She slaps the cup to the sky light and cuts her way in, pulling the glass out with the suction cup. Laying it aside, she picks up a rope, tied to a nearby air vent and drops the coil in. Clipping herself to the rope, she enters the building.

A display case is right underneath the skylight. In it are pieces of jewelry, large exotic pieces. Rings, necklaces, bracelets in finely worked gold an silver with large gems on them. She hangs above the case from her feet, and with a smaller glass cutter opens a hole about 6 inches wide in the case. She reaches in and begins pulling out the jewelry, stuffing it into the satchel from the bottom opening. When she has taken all the jewelry, she begins to climb up the rope. In the background we see a banner in the museum that reads "Art of Lost Civilizations."

Back on the roof, she pulls off the ninja-like cowl she was wearing and shakes out her hair, smiling secretly. She gathers her rope and the large cutter, then tosses the glass circle into the museum. It shatters the case and alarms ring out as she is running across the roof. She leaps off the edge and disappears.

She opens the window and climbs into her apartment off the fire escape. The room is small, maybe 10 square feet. The bed is right below the window, and has no sheets on it, just a sleeping bag. There is a small desk that came with the apartment that is empty along the wall to the left of the window. A dilapidated armchair that was pulled out of a dumpster sits along the right wall. She sits on the bed and empties the satchel of the jewelry and sifts through it. One piece catches her eye and she lifts the deep blue stone up. Staring at it blankly, she goes to the desk and opens the right drawer. She pulls out a length of black leather cord and threads it through the stones' setting, looping it over her forehead so the stone rests just above her eyes. Glancing into the mirror above the desk she looks mystified.

"It was almost a year later that the strange things began to happen..."

She was sitting on the bed reading a paperback that was falling apart when the door burst open and a tall man walked in, followed by two SWAT team members carrying shotguns. The lead man had short blonde hair and was wearing a trench that covered everything but his head.

"Don't even think about the window, it's covered," he began.

She put the book down with an exasperated sigh and looked daggers at the officer. "What do you want?" she asked acidly.

"Would you please come with us to the station?"

"If I said no?"

"Then things would become unpleasant." She nodded and they left.

She sat behind Captain Drevlin's desk, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee. She was wearing blue jeans with the right knee ripped out, a black shirt and a leather jacket.

"What am I here for?" she asked.

"I need your help," responded Captain Drevlin, a stocky, powerfully built man with iron gray hair in a crew cut. He was wearing a green sweater and jeans. "Thank you for coming."

"Not that a had a choice."

"I'm sorry for that, Ms. - ?"

"Doe. Jane Doe." Drevlin smiled at that slightly.

"I would like to hire you to catch a burglar. You come highly recommended to us."

"How did you find me?"

"What's your name?" he responded.

"If I catch this thief will you tell me who told you?"

"Yes. If you can. The robberies have us baffled. Since you seem to have skills similar to the burglar, you might make more headway than us."

"Fine," she said and stood up.

"The cops never cease to amaze me. Not only did they admit to being unable to catch this mystery burglar, they hired me to solve it. They hired me, to catch myself."

She was dressed for business again, crouched atop a four storey roof, looking off in the distance. The moon was obscured by the clouds tonight, and there seemed to be a prenatural darkness hanging on the streets.

"I haven't been back to my apartment since the cops came; I've just been motel hopping. I really need to find someone to blame these crimes on. Otherwise I'll never know who it is that knows where I live. Only three people besides me know that. Ricky- my fence- would never tell, one's dead, and the third lives in London. For someone who rarely enters society, having a stranger know that information is a death threat that hangs over me like a dark cloud."

She began running across the roof, leaping onto the next roof with a practiced skill. She crossed that roof and leapt across again. When she hit the third roof, she dropped and rolled behind cover quickly. It should be enough to convince a watcher that she missed the roof and fell to the ground. She crawled across the roof on her stomach and looked down over the edge. She examined the seal of the window carefully, then pulled a flat razor blade out of a writ holster that held various lock picks and blades. She slit the seal carefully, and cut through the wires that were exposed by this. Sliding the window open she straightened and stood up. Leaping off the building and twisting, she grabbed the edge and piked. Her feet entered the open window and the rest of her followed. She landed silently. The apartment she was now in was nice, luxuriant even. The large screen TV and stereo sat on her left. The wall in front of her had a real fireplace in it, and a beautiful sofa in front of it facing the TV. A vase of flowers sat on the mantel. A hallway to the left of the fireplace led to the kitchen, but she moved to the door on the right wall. Carefully opening it she entered the bedroom.

Clothes were strewn about, and a young man and an older woman lay in the bed sleeping. The bed was a king size waterbed with abed standd and lamp on the right, while a roll top desk sat against the left wall. She moved to the desk and tried opening it. Locked. She pulled out a lock pick and went to work. When the desk made a -click- as it opened, the man stirred. She drew a dagger in reflex, but he quieted down. She sheathed the dagger and went about her business. She went through the folders lying on the desk top until she found the one she wanted. Taking it and setting it in her satchel, she noticed a ring box in the desk. She opened it and her eyes widened in amazement at the large diamond ring. She glanced at the woman on the bed and found her purse on the floor. Going through it she pulled out another ring. Not as large, but obviously a wedding ring. She took the larger ring, put the wedding ring in the box and replaced the box. She then closed the desk and left quickly.

Back on the roof she shut the window and sighed.

"Sorry, kid, but I'm doing you a favor here," she said quietly. She stood up and began roof hopping.

A cloaked figure watched her leap off the roof they both stood upon before stepping out from behind the electric box he was concealed by. She fades in the distance while the figure watches silently.

"The Childe does not know of the power she holds. The Tear of the Moon- unbelievable. She will either learn to use it or be destroyed during the Change," mutters the figure. A strand of white hair covers part of his face, and his eyes are silver.

She sat in the 40th storey office of Nakota Incorporated. She was wearing a formal evening gown, blue and cut low enough to show the tops of her breasts. Her hair was up with a braid falling down her back. The effect was disastrous for the Chinese executive on the other side of the desk. He has a problem of keeping his eyes on her face, and sweat ran down his face. He was constantly adjusting his glasses.

"Here is the file, Mr. Nakota," she said in a seductive voice that hinted at everything yet promised nothing.

"Yes, yes. Wonderful Mrs. Krane. And here is you check for 5,000 dollars."

Her face tightened and she grabbed the file and began to stand.

"Wait! What is the problem?" asked the nervous exec.

"Our deal was for cash, Nakota. If you won't pay, I'm sure Draz Enterprises would. Especially if I told them of your hiring me to obtain this file. Pay up or lose it all."

"Of course, of course. Please, one moment. I have to go get it from the safe." She nodded and the slightly pudgy man left the room.

"Idiot," she thinks. "They always try that." She waited. He returned with an envelope. She opened it and leafed through the hundred dollar bills inside. She slapped the file back on the desk and left the room, while Nakota adjusted his tie, ulping as she swayed out of the room.

Begin this scene with a view through Nakota's eyes, looking at her while she speaks, then through her eyes looking at him, back to his eyes while she looks pissed, then do a scene from the side, where we see her on the left and him on the right, desk in between. While Nakota is gone, we see her from behind, as if watching from the doorway as she looks out the window at the neighboring skyscraper.

"Well, Ms. Ingersoll, I'm glad you could make it," said the young man on the other side of the desk. He was tall, blonde, and handsome. She smiled at him, wearing the same dress.

"I understand you have need of my services."

"Yes," he responded, totally calm. He was unaffected by her. She gave him credit for that. She loved dealing with professionals. "An employee in R&D recently walked out on us. He took with him a confidential file and is now working for Nakota Inc. We are forming an extraction team to retrieve him. We want him back, and are not mad at him, since we suspect Nakota had something to coerce him into leaving us. The job pays 10 grand per person, with the balance of any losses going to the survivors."

"I'll do it solo for 10 grand," she responded.

"We've heard excellent things about you, but no one's that good. The team needs a fifth, we want you."

"I don't work well with others."

"Then do you have any recommendations for who will?" The exec smiled at her coolly.

For this scene, do it all from the doorway- her head slightly to one side so we can see the man's face.

Downtown NYC was a mass of neon lights, the dregs of humanity, and trash. Triple X stores were everywhere, along with bars and clubs. She got out of a taxi and paid the driver, then merged with the mass of people and made her way into the club. F242 was a techno/heavy metal bar/dance club. Stabbing Westward was blaring over the stereo, and people thrashed around on the dance floor. The floor was ringed by small two-people tables and a row of booths ran along the wall to the right. She pushed her way through the crowd to a door at the end of the booths. The door read "Employees Only- This mean YOU asshole!" She opened it and walked down a sterile looking white hallway that ended in a wall but continued along that wall. She stopped at a door on the right side and walked in.

The room was dimly lit and thrashed. A desk was to the right, covered in papers with a lamp on it. To the right was a bed, occupied by two people, who's clothes were all over the place. She grabbed a chair, spun it around and straddled it, facing the bed. She pulled out a cigarette and lit up. The man in bed had long, greasy looking hair, and the covers were pulled down to his waist, revealing his bare chest. The girl was clutching the covers around her nakedness. She looked young and was obviously furious. Her short black hair was wildly disarrayed.

"What the Hell!" screamed the girl in bed. "Ricky, make her get out of here!"

"Jess, what the hell are you doing here? I've been trying to get a hold of you for days," said Ricky.

Jess reached down and pulled a pair of scanty lace panties up. She stretched the waist out and smiled evilly at the girl.

"Trying to impress him, hon? Did it work?" she asked the girl, letting the panties snap off her fingers and shoot across the room.

"Get out of here!"

"Tell me, Ricky. Was she as good as me?"

"You know that you're a hard act to beat, Jess."

"What the hell! Ricky! Tell her to-"

"Amanda, please. I'm right here. Would you pleases give Jess and I a few minutes alone?" Jess smiled evilly at Amanda.

"Sorry to ruin your smoke, 'Manda, but Ricky and I are old acquaintances."

"Ah, leave her alone, Jess. Amanda, please go. I'll explain later."

"You'd better, asshole," said Amanda. She got up, trying to dress while covering herself with the sheet. Jess laughed at her efforts.

"You might as well drop it, 'Manda. Ricky's obviously seen it all, and you ain't got nothin' that I can't top." Amanda glared at her, but dropped the sheet and began dressing frantically. She left in a huff, slamming the door.

"Where have you been, Jess?" Ricky asked, pulling on a pair of jeans and moving to sit behind the desk.

"Motel hopping. The cops found me at home. I was taken in and hired to catch a burglar who happens to be me, and I haven't been home since."

"Why didn't you come to me sooner? What have you been doing?"

"Working the corporate sector," she said tightly.

"Tough work there," Ricky said. He looked at her face and flinched back defensively. "Don't look at me like that! I didn't rat on you!"

"I know, I'm just a tad upset over the whole thing. And what the fuck was going on in here?"

"Hey- you said-"

"I know what I said! I also told you to stay away from people like her! You probably didn't even use a condom, did you?" Jess said forcefully in a rush.

"---" Ricky didn't even have a chance to respond, as Jess grabbed the sides of his head and pulled his face in close to hers.

"I can't have you get fucked over by some Gutterslut, Ricky! You're too important to me. You are a gem among contacts, and I don't want to try to find another like you! What the hell were you thinking?!" Ricky pulled away from her and glared at her spitefully.

"She's not a whore, and I did use a condom. You at least drove that into me."

"Good. So was this a one nighter or are you in love with her?" Ricky flinched, looking pained.

"You know who I love. As I said- you're a tough act to follow."

"Oh, Ricky... I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. It's over, right? Amanda's a nice girl. And you're still around in one way or another."

"Someone has to take care of you." Ricky regains his composure and looks back at her.

"Right, Mother. So what do you need?"

"Info mostly- four names. Solo. Jackson. Gem. Tirade."

"Whew- heavy hitters. What are you into?"

"Employee extraction for Draz Enterprises. What do you know?"

Ricky rummages through the drawers of his desk and pulled out a photo album. He opens it up and leafs through it as Jess moves around the desk to lean over him. The first picture he stops on is of a tall man, gray hair in a crew cut, powerfully built, wearing army field camouflage fatigues. He was carrying a large machine gun and had a bandoleer of shells across his chest. He was standing in a jungle, apparently a war time photo from 'Nam.

"Solo. Ex-Army, Rangers. Tough guy. Experienced in guerrilla warfare, but has a tendency towards the extreme. He packs a lot of firepower and loves to use it. High price tag, but delivers- usually in mostly one piece."

He flips through the book and stops on a picture of a woman, jumping down from a balcony. She was wearing almost exactly what Jess wears when working.

"Gem. Not much on her, other than she is highly qualified and expensive. Rumor has it that she is actually man in disguise, but there's nothing on that for sure."

Next, a large black man, wearing pants that look like Renaissance pants. This man is Hugely muscular, and is standing in a white walled room with no furniture.

"Jackson. Don't be fooled by his size. He's nearly as fast and silent as you, and with his strength is as deadly as you with your knives. He's a master of hand to hand fighting, and has blackbelts in at least four martial arts. Mu Thai, Kempo, Akkido, and Taido. He is also trained in three other forms, but those are his deadliest. He is probably the most expensive out of all of you, but definitely worth it.

"And you just kicked Tirade out of my room."

"What?!"

"Amanda is Tirade. She's worked Corporate sector for two years. She's a very smart girl, and put her education to use. She a mechanic, an electrician, and a hell of a demolitions expert. Don't worry. In the field, she's totally professional, but after the run, you might want to watch your back."

When looking through the pictures, we see a picture of the person as described, and a piece of paper with the information being said below it. Showing him flipping through the pages is your decision. While he says his last paragraph, show his face, concerned and serious.