This is my response to Day 2 of http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/'s 30 Days of Flash Fiction, the list for which can be found at http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/221684.h
It was time for Giel Parminger to disappear. She’d been useful but now the Commune intelligence community had developed the idea that she was an agent of the Revisionist Insurrection, it was time for her to go.
I’ve always found train stations useful for this sort of thing. At the right times of day you have lots of people moving around purposefully with enough variation that the right sort of oddity doesn’t stand out. A big one will have lots of exits going in all sorts of directions, far too many for even cameras and an army of agents to monitor – some of them are called trains.
When I walked into the concourse I scanned for extra security, in case the people after Giel had gotten here first. There wasn’t any. So far, so good.
Next I dropped a rumpled paper bag into a garbage bin. Inside the bag was one of those flat cardboard boxes you get good block chocolate in. Inside that were all of Giel’s identity documents.
Cloak room next and use the key that had been sitting in the lining of Giel’s handbag since forever. Take the suitcase, put a few items from the inner pockets of my coat into other pockets, put the coat over my arm, leave Giel’s handbag in the locker and lock it. Head back out into the concourse.
Join lots of people heading for an open gate that isn’t a ticket barrier, the public isn’t supposed to use it but they do. It leads onto an interurban platform. City commuters aren’t supposed to get on the interurbans but it cuts half an hour off the trip. Get in just as the doors are closing. Once I ditch the coat, the wig and the key, Giel Parminger will be dead.