Her green eyes scan the street, a few more homeless people, a few more thugs, a few more hookers, a few more buildings....but it all seems the same.

After a 4 hour flight, she shoves her hand in her pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, her body aching for the nicotine. She pats her pockets, cursing as she remembers that airport security took her lighter. Pulling out a single butt and placing it behind her ear, she puts the pack back in her pocket.

She'd kill for a lighter, hell she'd kill for two rocks to strike together about now. Biting her bottom lip, she looks up and scans the streets once again. The familiar streets of where she grew up. Where she rebelled against her mom, where after graduating school, she joined the police dept, where she was kidnapped, well hell where she spent most of her life. She wonders if anyone will remember her, she wonders if they will ask questions of where she's been in the last two years, she wonders if they even missed her....then quickly dismisses that though 'fuck do i care if they missed me' she curses to herself bitterly.

She slings her military issued dufflebag across her slim yet muscular shoulders, and heads into Hathian.