44 comments/ 19987 views/ 50 favorites The Mission of the Heart Ch. 03 By: YoursTruly101 Hey readers, long time no...write? Sorry, college is kicking my ass a little bit, but I'm coping ;) Anyway, this story has been sitting in my laptop for who knows how many months, so... Here you go ☺ I hope you guys forgive me though, I will try to write as much as I can. Write a feedback here and there, I love getting mails from you aka readers! --------------------- (A lone scruffy guard spat on the concrete floor, coughing afterwards as he sniffed the condensed air. Andre was his name. At 250lbs, the tall man couldn't think of anything else other than what his damn wife cooked for dinner. Damn woman, he thought to himself. Always nagging and nagging her life away. He looked around the cells, the prisoners behind them always moaning quietly. Growling silently to himself, he fast-walked to one of the cells, and kicked one of the hands of the prisoner's were inching their way out. "Shut the fuck up, amigo!" he spat, saliva flowing freely out of his mouth. The prisoner shouted something in Spanish, and inched himself to the depth of his cell. Grinning, the guard loves his power in this underground prison. Or may I say, torture house, he thought to himself, smiling. He did his usual routine, walking around and inspecting the cells, whistling and twirling his baton like he owns the place. He walked pass each and every cell, but slowed his pace as he approached cell number fifty-nine. Straining his eye to get a clearer vision of the prisoner, he tapped his baton on the steel bars. "Hola, hola!" he said gruffly with his harsh Spanish accent, "Anybody home?" Nothing. He tapped the bars again. Again, nothing, but a soft shuffling sound. Well, he thought to himself, that's a sign someone's there. Probably half-dead already. Grunting, he walked pass the cell and continued on his routine.) ------------------------ "You're late," I whispered under my breath, looking up from my iPad. It was a dreary Saturday afternoon, everything was basically soaking wet. A typical spring weather in the Windy City. Today was my official hang-out-with-Charlie day. Well considering I have two guns on me, let's just say the word "friend" is a bit of an understatement. Let me reintroduce myself: Call me Pamela. In fact, call me whatever the fuck you want. I am an agent from The Agency, a secret independent organization that was made by whomever. Even I don't know my own employer(s). All I do is follow orders. I am 21 years old, 5'5, 137 lbs, and I have the skills and knowledge that are considered to exceed the norm's. I can kill whatever, whomever swiftly and without any problems. Deadly. But it was a couple weeks ago when I failed to carry out my exact orders, which was to kill Charlie Carlson. The reason behind it? I have no clue to be honest... But it was a good thing I didn't since a few weeks after that incident, I received another mission, which was to protect her from any harm at all. Mind-blowing, isn't it? Any who, back to the current situation, after that party (and the little "incident" I had with Ashley) Charlie finally asked me to have a girl's day two days after. Let me tell you, I don't know what's gotten into me because I'm nervous as hell. And here I am, sitting well dressed in a café called "Belfast Café" sipping on my coffee (dark, please), my hair down, and a bit of make-up on my face. For the past twenty minutes, I had memorized everything and anything in the café, including people's faces, dresses, the paintings on the wall, everything within my field of vision. Where the hell was she? I was fidgeting like crazy, and told myself to stop multiple times. I have never been this nervous in my life. Okay, maybe once when a Russian soldier held a gun to my face while I was kneeling and handcuffed. Good thing he had a good soul at the end, otherwise I would've died three years ago. The front door opened, and there was Charlie with her leather jacket, soaking wet with a desperate look on her face. She looked frantically around the café and smiled warmly when she locked eyes with mine. My heart literally skipped a beat, and I had a funny feeling in my stomach. It felt like something was fluttering in it. My mouth went dry. Am I sick? Shyly, I picked up my mirror and moved my left colored contact around, just to see if it was still there (naturally, I have dark brown eyes, but I put on some light brown contacts on. Safety precautions). She zigzagged through the busy building, and sat down in front of me, panting a bit. "Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry," she said, trying to catch her breath. "Some jerk deflated my tires after work, and I had to get a cab, but there was traffic-" "I-it's okay, really," I replied, smiling a bit. "Besides, I had a nice bonding time with my IPad. So relax a bit." With that, I sent a quick email to Carrie, asking her to look into the little "tire incident." "What were you doing?" she asked, looking curiously at me. "Facebooking?" I smirked, and looked up at her. "Something like that." She was about to say something else, but a college, brown-haired waitress interrupted us. Slowly, I turned my IPad off, and laid it on the table. "What would you like, hun?" "Oh," she said, a bit distracted. "I'll have the mocha frappuccino, please." The waitress smiled and told her she'll come right back. With a huff, she walked off through the busy working place, leaving a rather awkward silence between Charlie and I. Okay, calm down, I thought to myself. You can pass through a normal conversation. "So, how was work today?" "What do you do again?" The question caught me off-guard, and I nearly spilled my coffee. I nearly forgot about my so-called occupation. "I'm a waitress at Tru for...perhaps a year now." I smiled gracefully like the question was nothing out of the ordinary. She leaned forward with her elbows on the table. I looked at her like I was being interrogated. Actually, I think I was being interrogated. Playing it smoothly, I also leaned forward and looked at her straight in the eyes. "Why do you ask?" She tilted her head slowly to the right, carefully observing me. My mouth felt like a desert, so I immediately drank my coffee until my cup was empty. "Tell me my name." "What?" She bit her lower lip uncertainly, and cautiously looked at me. "My name," she repeated innocently. "Is it too much to ask?" "Your name," I said, clearing my throat," is Charlie Carlson." Interrupted, the waitress came back with Charlie's mocha frappuccino. Both Charlie and I jumped in result of her immediate presence. Instinctively, I placed my hand to my gun-harness hidden underneath my black coat. Charlie looked at me suspiciously, and took one small sip on her frappuccino. I frowned a bit, looking at her mysteriously. Coincidentally, my phone vibrated inside my pocket, the same side the harness was. "Excuse me," I muttered, and slowly walked to the bathroom. She gave me a somewhat blank look, but then smiled and said sure. I pulled my iPhone out, and looked at the caller ID. As expected, it was Carrie. Swiftly, I went into the one-stalled bathroom, locked the door, and answered. "Give me something." "Alright," she said hurriedly on the other line," we may have a stalker or two on our hands. Well, on your hands technically." Great. "Well, you gotta give me more than that, Carrie." "Okay, okay." I patiently waited while Carrie typed away on her keyboard on the other line. Stalkers? I dug deep within my mind, and visualized the entire café without missing any detail, searching for any suspicious activities. "Got it. The deflated tires were no incident, but I have trouble going through the public cameras that were around her car at the time. Damn. I do, however, have a satellite picture of them." "Them?" " Yea. Four, to be exact. They are-" "Between the weight of 180-230lbs, one of the men had sunglasses, another has a limp possibly because of a sport injury. All are of Italian descent." "Yes, bull's eye," she said. I can visual her smiling on the other line. "Please send me a link righ-" "Way ahead of you. I'm already sending it." "Thanks, Carrie." A couple of seconds went by, and the link came through my iPhone. I opened it, and the suspects' pictures popped up. I was right. They were all in the same café, scattered and seated in different tables. Quickly, I turned off the cell, and gracefully walked out of the bathroom after I made sure I put a silencer on my gun. As I was striding back to my and Charlie's table, my body was ready for any attacks. Just like any other situation I've been. Billions. But this time it was different. This time I feel protective, like a female bear would for her baby. Protective to the point of destroying their bodies into little pieces, while Charlie is behind a protective wall: me. Charlie's face lit up as I was only a few feet from her, and my mood lightened instantly. She was playing with her hair, falling softly on her face while looking at her drink closely. "Did you know there's like 500 calories in this little thing?" she said. "Holy shit, no wonder I feel so full!" I sat down gracefully beside her instead of in front of her. She looked slightly surprised, but didn't mind me. I crossed my legs together, and looked at her with every focus I had. She turned, and looked at me curiously once again. I smiled instinctively, and looked away, sipping on my drink. While doing so, I looked on the corner of my eye: one of the guys was moving closer to us. So unprofessional, I thought as I set my cup down. How stupid could you possibly be of thinking you can do anything crucial in a public place? The men must be amateurs. Pathetic. I made a small growling sound in the back of my throat, but coughed to cover it up. "So," Charlie said in a somewhat small voice. "Really. Have I...talked to you or met you before? I mean, before we became close." As I looked back at her, she looked so vulnerable with her green eyes, her hands fidgeting. As I was about to answer, my iPhone started vibrating. I took it out, and opened up the new text message from Carrie. "Warning! One of them is a trained Terrorist!!!! There's a high chance of one of them carrying some kind of explosives-" That was all I needed. I quickly put my phone in my pocket, and stood up abruptly. Charlie took no notice of my behavior since she was preoccupied with a fellow friend of hers waving on the other side of the building. Automatically, I grabbed her hand and whispered," let's get out of here" near her ear. She looked at me questionably right after my hand made contact to hers. I looked at her, and smiled. "Trust me," I said reassuringly, squeezing her hand a bit. Raising an eyebrow curiously, she slowly nodded and followed me out of the building. We raced through the crowded café, saying our "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" to the people we bumped to, and finally reached the door. As we were about to go outside, I looked over my shoulder and saw movements among the crowd that was headed our way. "What's going on?" Charlie asked as she followed my gaze. I looked over the room again, sensing that the men were close. I gently tugged her outside, greeted with a hug from the cold wind and the tears of Mother Nature. "Wow," I said, shivering looking over at her and back at the cafe. "Spring weather, huh?" She stopped and released her hand from mine, water pouring over her face. "Alright, what is going on?" Feeling a bit panicky, I looked closely at the café and discovered that not one of the four men was coming out from it. What the hell, I thought. Talk about a short chase. Paranoid, I looked frantically around, but found none of the men. "Hey, I'm talking to y-" "Charlie?" I spun around to see who called out her name and found myself staring to a handsome, blue-eyed man in a business suit. Oh yes, and I do mean handsome, like Brad Pitt in the movie "Troy." In fact, there were some resemblance, but his hair was darker. I looked at Charlie, her face blushing, and her eyes down at the ground. Slowly, she met his gaze shyly, biting her lower lip unconsciously. It was at that moment I realized I didn't like this guy, whoever he was. Not one bit. "James!" she exclaimed, and gave him a hug, which he returned a little too quickly. "How have you been? It has been, what, a year already?" "A year and two months!" he said smiling, showing off his white teeth. "And I've been great. I just came back two weeks ago from New York." They continued on their conversation, as an unfamiliar feeling began to rise within me. What was it, anger? Jealousy? Envy? It was all too confusing, because it seems that these emotions were compacted into one and they were all crowding my chest. What was happening, I asked myself. "Pamela?" Charlie asked, turning her head to me with concern. "Are you okay?" The Brad Pitt look-alike (James, was it?) looked at me with amusement written on his face, his hands in his pockets. He looked at me from head to toe, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "I, uh," I said, clearing my throat. "I gotta go, but I'll see you guys later." Smiling, I turned around and coincidentally spotted one of the men, walking idly in front of the café, and going to a nearby alley. It seemed he didn't spot me. Still walking, I looked around some more and didn't find the other three men, which was highly unusual. Unless, he wants me to follow him through the alley. I looked over my shoulder and eyed Charlie; she was still busy chatting with James. Smirking, I fast-walked to the man, and followed him to the lonely alley as droplets of rain dripped down my face and body. It's about bloody time I get some kind of action, I thought to myself as I reached inside my coat feeling my gun. Walking from a safe distance behind him, he suddenly stopped in the middle of the valley. I stopped my tracks. He then spun around quickly and shot a bullet in my directly. I felt it going dangerously close by my head. As I ducked and hid behind a dumpster, I saw the three other men bursting through a door, shouting something in foreign tongue. Bullets flew past me, and I got my other gun out. "Big mistake," I muttered under my breath. Quickly, I leaned over and shot multiple bullets to them. Let's just say the fight was short and sweet. ------------------------ Humming quietly to myself, I walked over and around the dead bodies and walked lazily to the fourth man, crawling to his gun. I stepped on his gun, and kicked it away; I could already hear the sirens going off from a distance. Shrugging the cold water off my eyes, I put my gun between his foreyes, as he rolled to his back and looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please..."he begged, panting. "Spare me...please- I won't tell anyone w-w-who you are. Please!" "Shut up!" I pressed the barrel harshly to his head, death in my eyes. Kill him, I thought to myself. Kill him, kill him, kill him! But at that point, I couldn't. I couldn't kill this man, and I don't know why. It's as if an invisible force is forbidding me to do so, I could not pull the trigger. I looked at him, and dropped my gun to my side. "Get the fuck away from us," I whispered deathly to him. "I won't be as merciful next time." He nods. Sneering, I put the gun in my holster, and began walking away, at first never taking my eyes off of him. Sighing, I began looking straight ahead, wiping the cold rain off my face. Fuck! Why did I do that? Why? Why is it only now I let him go? He was a threat, for God's sake. He was a murderer, and will be again since I let him go. Why? Mumbling to myself, I never noticed the footsteps behind me. Then, a sharp pain on my right side, and I screamed in horror. I looked around, and found the man looking smugly at me, saying something in another language. I palmed heeled his nose, and he fell backwards ungracefully. He grunted when his body made contact to the cold concrete, and tried to get back up. Shivering, I got my gun out, and shot him multiple times on his torso I cried out in pain, as I looked at my bloody side: a piece of brown tainted glass stuck on my side. Sucking a breath of fresh air, I painfully got the glass out. Fortunately, it wasn't deep in me, but it was deep enough to cause a lot of bleeding. Whimpering, I shakily got my iPhone out and dialed for Carrie. "Hello? Did you get them?" she asks. Panting, I cleared my throat and started jogging as the sirens were only a half a mile away. "Y-yes," I said rather weakly. "I took care of them." The buildings around me started dancing, my eyes heavy. "S-shit..." I whispered pathetically to the phone. "I'm not s-sure if I can make it..." Weakly, I got my two guns out, and threw them into the dumpster, closing it afterwards. Putting my hand on the brick wall for support, my body began to betray me and started to sway back and forth. "What," Carrie said with concern in the other line," are you okay?" I didn't answer. Instead, I pushed myself and continued to half-jog to my car. What's the use, I thought. I couldn't make it that far. I dropped the phone on the ground, and started to fall. "Track me," I tried telling to the phone's direction. "Track me!" All was darkness afterwards. ----------------------- (The prisoner inside cell fifty-nine stirred, awakened. The prisoner doesn't know if it was day or night, nor does the prisoner know the date. Dizzy, the prisoner leaned against the wall, emotionless. The prisoner doesn't know anything.) ------------------- I opened my eyes, my body feeling like a thousand pounds, vision unclear. I moaned and tried getting up, but a soft hand pushed my shoulder down. Hissing because of the sharp pain on my right side, another hand hovered my wound. I squinted my eyes to see where I was, and came to the conclusion that I was in my hotel room. "It's okay," a familiar voice said, softly massaging my shoulder. "You're safe." I began to relax, and muttered something unintelligent, but I know the last word I muttered was "Charlie." --------------------- A few days later, I was finally recovered thanks to Carrie and her quick thinking; I figured out she did track me and drove herself to my location. She even stitched me up herself, but my side was still sore as hell. During those days, Charlie would talk to me through the phone, asking me why I haven't been in Tru and such. "I caught something at work, and I'm not feeling so hot right now," I tried telling her. "Aww," she said in a cute voice. "Want me to come over?" "No," I had said immediately. "I mean, I don't want you to get sick either." During those days, we talked and talked through the phone, sometimes even two hours straight. We would talk about anything to work to our love lives. Well, mostly her love life. She told me when it comes to love, she cautious since she was cheated three times from her previous boyfriends. "How can they do that to you!?" I said incredulously. "That doesn't do any justice for you. You're beautiful and smart, anyone can fall for you!" She giggled on the other line. "Well, I don't know," she said a bit sadly. "I guess it's my personality. Most of my friends tell me it's because of my shyness and ingressiveness. I guess I can be a little naïve too." "You know what I think?" "What?" I waited a few seconds and smiled," That's bullshit." "There you go again," she giggled. "You know, I feel so comfortable talking to you. I mean I know we only became friends for a couple of months now, but I don't know. I feel...safe when I'm talking to you. That sounds so lame, sorry." As I put a silencer on my gun, I stopped breathing. My heart started thumping and felt like bursting through my chest, like an animal wanting to get out of its cage. I smiled unconsciously. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 03 "Seems like you can't live without me, huh?" "Yep, that's it." I can feel her grinning on the other line. "Well don't you worry," I said, still smiling. "I feel the same way." Whoa, where did that come from? "Yea?" "Yea, why not? It seems boring to be just your friend. So why not be a secret superhero, too?" She giggled again, "You're a dork! Anyway, when you're all better, we should have a girl's night at my place. Just you and me. Besides, you haven't talked about your love life at all, missy!" "I told you," I said. "There's nothing really to talk about!" "Uh-huh, suuuure," she said. "I got to go. I'll call you later, yea?" Smiling like a schoolgirl talking to her football quarterback crush, I said, "Of course." With a click, she was gone. Immediately, I frowned. "So," I said gravely. "You know why you're here." I picked up my gun, and looked at the gagged and tied man sitting on the chair in front of me. He shivered at the look of my eyes, squirming to get out. I stood up, and pointed the gun on his thigh. "You know what's great about this hotel room? Unlike any hotel rooms?" He shook his head in fear. I brought my head near his face and whispered, "It's completely soundproof." ------------------------------- Later on that night, I immediately infiltrated Charlie's house and hid on top of the roof, waiting for any disturbances to happen. The man I "interrogated" told me some professional men were ready to break into her house. Well we can't have that now, can we? I had my full gear on; from my balaclava and night goggles, to my suit, to my M-160 Assault Rifle. Everything. I was all set for the night. Sighing, I slowly sneaked to be on top of Charlie's room, and sat on the cold roof. Grunting, I gently massaged my sore side, and slowly laid myself down. Putting on my headphones, I listened through them for any disturbances (I put multiple microphones in her house, especially her room). I lifted my night goggles up. Then, I waited, and waited for what the night was about to bring me. I slowly closed my eyes, completely focused on everything around me plus listening through the headphones. Years of patient and hard training, I mostly mastered the art of listening, but I never did find out what the significance of it until I was finally assigned to my first assignments. The moon was up and high, like a spotlight shining upon the Earth. I loved the moon. Even though there are some evils in the world, looking at the moon always calmed me down. I smiled under my mask. "Help!" Frowning, I sat up quickly, and crawled to the edge to find the disturbance from below. Men were scrambling here and there in confusion. I listened closely to my earphones and heard Charlie scrambling in her room, and walking to her balcony. Idiot, I thought to myself. Stay in your room! But, of course, she didn't. She went to her balcony with her light blue robe, curious what was happening below. Slowly, I crawled backwards to be hidden. "What's going on?" I heard her say under her breath, wrapping her body to shield herself from the cold. She leaned over to get a better view; the men all huddled by the gate. Idiots! Something's wrong, I thought to myself. It doesn't add up. If these so-called killers were to get their hands on Charlie, why are they approaching the front door? I put my night-vision goggles on, which can be a magnifier also. There was a truck parked in front of the gate. As far as I know, there was no one inside, but the truck engine itself was running. Then, a soft knock. Charlie turned around and jogged to the bedroom door and I listened intensely. I heard the door open, and a shuffling sound outside of it. "We're sorry about the disturbance ma'am," a man said, assumed to be one of the guards. "But we'll take care of it." Wait a minute. "Good," Charlie said with a sigh of relief. "I thought something serious was going on down there! Wait just one goddamn minute. "It is okay, ma'am," another man said with a very rusty Italian accent. "It will all end soon." "Shit, shit, shit," I muttered under my breath, as I stood up and jumped down stealthily onto the balcony. The accent, why didn't I catch that earlier? Why couldn't I stop them before they knocked on Charlie's door? A muffled screamed erupted in my eardrums, and I immediately burst through the balcony door, my silenced gun in my hand pointing at the three men surrounding Charlie. One of the men spotted me, and shouted something in Italian through his walkie-talkie. The electricity went off, and multiple shots were fired in many directions. I took cover, and hid behind a couch, swearing silently under my breath. You're losing your fucking touch, I thought to myself. Putting my goggles in night vision, I quickly took a double take and started firing back. One of the men started dragging Charlie out of her room, but she elbowed him on the ribs and got out within his reach. Get out of here, I thought to myself as I shot one of the men square on the head. Get out of here, Charlie! But the thing about Charlie is she's stubborn. Every time we would go out to eat, she insists to pay for our meal. Imagine my shocked expression behind my mask when I saw her elbow a guy in the temple. Oh dear god, I thought to myself. I shot the guy multiple times on the torso, and she looked at my way, a scared look on her face. Instinctively, I looked at her through my night goggles, my body refusing to move. God, I thought to myself. She's beautiful. Suddenly, the last guy behind her bear hugged her, and she gave a big yelp. She began thrashing her body, furniture and decorations crashing down around her. I couldn't get a clear shot because there were a lot of movements. A little frustrated sound erupted from the back of my throat. The man became aware of my presence, and began looking at my way. He grabbed Charlie with one arm, and put a gun on her temple. She froze, completely aware that she was being held hostage. "Come out!" he bellowed thickly, pressing the barrel harshly on Charlie's temple. She whimpered, streams of tears flowing freely down her cheeks. I stopped breathing for a second. It has been a while since I was involved in a hostage situation and the last time I engaged in one didn't have a favorable outcome. Trying to analyze the after results, I couldn't help but to stare at Charlie fully vulnerable and scared. I wanted to massacre the man holding her more than anything else. "Come out or I kill her!" he shouted. I can see his brown eyes full of anger, his brows smothered in sweat. Silently, I argued to myself if I should come out or not. If I do, who's to say he won't shoot me right on the spot? If I don't, what would happen to Charlie? And many other questions. Decisions, decisions, decisions... "Please..."Charlie whispered, her hands shaking by her sides. "Please help m-" "Shut up!!" I slowly got up, and walked towards them, my gun pointed straight to the man. I couldn't get a clear shot since he was hiding behind Charlie. Bastard. Even though the lights were out, the moon brought a little light in the room. Charlie held her breath, as my familiar appearance appeared before her. The man tensed, and growled," Drop the gun. Drop it now!" I hesitated, and kept my ground a few feet from them. Glaring through my goggles, I gritted my teeth. I could feel my heart pumping in anger, my mind focused on killing the man only and to kill him in the painful way as possible. But more importantly, I wanted Charlie as safe as possible. "I swear I will kill h-" Then, with a daring move, Charlie moved the barrel away from her temple, and stomped the man's toes. The gun went off, and Charlie screamed on top of her lungs, making her fall before me. Taking the chance, I shot multiple times at the man's direction, but he was smart. He hid behind the door, reloading his gun. I shot at his direction, but failed to shoot him. The gun clicked as I pulled the trigger, indicating I needed to reload. Shit, I thought to myself. I dropped the gun, and started to pull for my other one. But at that same moment, the man was pointing the gun at Charlie, and he was ready to shoot. Fight or flight, and I decided to fight hard. The Agency always trained us based on fast decisions in order to make our mission a success. I looked at Charlie, on her stomach shaking by my side. She looked up and saw the man, whimpering when she saw him point the gun at her. Automatically, I dove down in front of Charlie, a shot was fired and the bullet made contact to my chest. "Ugh!" I groaned in pain. The man stupidly stepped into the room, and I made the shot immediately to his head. He didn't even made a sound as his body fell to the floor. Painfully, I rolled onto my back and panted silently to myself. Gently, I placed my hand on my chest checking if the bullet went through. Thank god for bulletproof vests, I thought to myself. But my right side was another story. I silently whimpered in pain as my hand grasped my side, the same side the man from a couple of days ago stabbed me at. As my body lay there on the floor in pain, Charlie was already kneeling beside me, looking over me. A bit panicked, I tried sitting up, but her soft hand pushed my chest down to the floor. "Who are you," she whispered to herself more than to me. "Who are you?" I didn't say anything as I lay there breathing deeply in front of her. Under the moonlight, she was still beautiful, but I can see uncertainty in her eyes. Her light brown hair was a mess, but it looked so sexy on her. Her robe slightly came undone, and I can see she was only wearing a tank top and underwear under it. Beautiful was an understatement because she was beyond its mere definition. I started getting up, but then saw a gun pointed to my face. And Charlie was holding it. ------------- ("Get in there, you piece of shit!" the guard yelled as the he threw the prisoner into the cell. The prisoner's body made contact with the ground harshly, a small crack can be heard a mile away. The prisoner didn't make noise. Just a small grunt, barely audible.) --------------------- "I told you, do not report anything!" Charlie said to the guards outside her door. "You've already done your job, plus you got the bodies out of my room. Just tell the police it was just a simple break in gone wrong." "But what about the one over there?" the guard said, looking at my direction. Charlie looked at my way, and waved the guards off. "I'll take care of it," she said impatiently. "But, I swear, if you report this-" "We get the message," the same guard said. "We'll leave you alone." And with that, Charlie closed the door hastily. She then turned around and glared at me. The electricity was still off, but one of the guards brought an electrical lantern into the room. It felt like a spotlight that was directed at me. So there I was, sitting on Charlie's table chair while my hands are handcuffed behind it. All my weapons and gadgets were taken away from me, except for my mask and suit. I glared back at her, but didn't make a sound. But inside, I was in a huge amount of pain. My side wasn't cooperating with me, and I grimaced at the knife-feeling pain it caused me. She had all my guns, and they were all laid out on the bed. She looked at me with complete curiosity and carried one of my guns. Then, she slowly sat on the bed in front of me, her eyes never leaving mine. Fidgeting, she leaned over to me and I slowly raise an eyebrow at her. "Look," she said in a serious tone. "We can either do this the hard way or the easy way. What should it be?" A smile crawled on my lips. Did she know who she was talking to? I didn't say anything, but continued to look at her. She slightly curled her lips downward, frowning. Even when she was mad and frustrated, she still looked stunning as always. Squinting her eyes at me, she put her creamy hand on my jaw, slightly tugging on my mask. With horror, I moved my head away for the fear of her discovering who I really was. "No," I whispered, my eyes looking at the floor but her hand never leaving my jaw. "No." "Oh?" she said curiously. "What happens if I see the person behind this mask?" With that, she slowly began to lift my mask up. I winced away, turning my head violently all the way to the left. "No," I whispered firmly. "How about you fucking tell me what's going on then," she said in authority, "or I will fucking remove your mask. Do I make myself clear?" With that, she put a bit of pressure on my right side, my teeth gritting in pain. I turned to her once again, my eyes glaring into hers. She shifted uncomfortably, and unconsciously leaned backwards. She's still afraid of me, I thought to myself. But didn't want to show it. "Untie me," I whispered, slightly leaning forward," and I promise you I will tell you what you want to know." She tilted her head to her right with uncertainty and crossed her arms. "How do I know you're not lying?" With that, I leaned back and said," Because I just saved your life." Please just let me go, I thought desperately to myself. Please. As I tried looking at anything in the room except Charlie's gaze, I heard her get up and pace around the room. I pulled on my handcuffs weakly, but the overwhelming pain in my side made my whole body go limp. I can feel myself getting slightly out of breath, and dizzy again. As my head sagged downwards, I cried out in pain, whimpering. Let me go, I thought to myself. Let me go. "Let-" I gasped. "L-let me g-" I whimpered again, shaking out of desperation, trying to keep myself under control. Over all the missions I got assigned to, I never let anyone show my weaknesses, not even when I was in pain. But this was different, obviously. Taking a breath, I looked around, and found Charlie at my right side, looking at me with concern. Curiously, she reached her hand out and laid it flat on my side, making my body tremble in pain. Tears were beginning to form in my eyes, but I tried blinking them away. "Are you hurt...?" she asked softly, massaging my side as she kneeled. I didn't answer, but my body language gave it away. Literally, my body became tense, petrified. It was no use, I was the one being handcuffed to a chair. Turning my head and meeting her gaze, I gave her a pleading look, an expression I never thought I would wear. "Please," I whispered firmly. "Just let me go." We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, but felt like an hour. I could easily get lost under her gaze. Blinking a couple of times, I answered truthfully, "I need s-some medical aid." She looked at me carefully, her mind full in thought. I analyzed the possibility of me getting out alive tonight and the result was pretty disappointing. Either she lets me go, I die, or I stay handcuffed for the rest of the night. God, anything but the last scenario. Charlie cursed under her breath and stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. I looked down to my toes, and felt Charlie's hand on the handcuffs. With the click, they landed softly on the carpeted floor. Immediately, I put my hands on my side, grunting. I let my gaze linger to Charlie, who was cautiously walking to the bed getting my gun. I painfully stood up, and she grabbed the gun like a child would to a teddy bear. But the odd thing was...I wasn't afraid. I love her gaze. Over the months we became close, I always would fall under her gaze and her lips while she talked. And her mind? It was brilliant. She was beautiful inside and out, which scared me. I never felt anything like this before, I was in an unknown territory. But at the same time, it intrigued me. She intrigues me and tonight, I was about to go deeper into this...territory. Whatever it is. I looked at her with a pleading look in my eyes, my body unconsciously walked towards her. What the hell are you doing! My mind screamed with comments and criticisms, but for the first time, I completely shut off my left lobe. Because overall, I wanted her. "W-what are you doing?" she asked, raising the gun to my head. I still kept on walking, while gingerly taking off my clammy gloves. She was addicting to look at. The way she moved, talked, everything. With every step, I can feel my body becoming weaker and weaker, not because of my injury. No, this was something else. Something deeper. I stopped as the barrel made contact between my eyebrows, my hand slowly reaching her. To my surprise, she didn't move or flinch, but stood frozen like a statue. Slowly, I pushed the loaded gun aside, my stare digging into her eyes. Airily, I let the back of my hand softly glide up her arm, and she shivered in response, her skin shaking under mine. With my other hand, I glided one finger across the barrel, and slowly took it out of her hand and gently laid it on the floor after I put the safe lock on. Slowly I stood up, my head looking upwards. With her grassy-green eyes wide open, she let her hands fidget unconsciously. She had her full attention on me. I walked even closer to her, our heads only an inch or two apart. She held her breath and walked backwards a step. Not wanting her to feel threatened or uncomfortable in any way, I stood my ground. "What about you? Are you hurt?" I whispered with concern, not recognizing my own shaky voice. She replied with a shake of her head, while covering herself up by wrapping her arms around her chest. I held my breath and looked down shyly. "I, uh," I said softly, my hands at my back. "I suggest making the security even tighter around here. Maybe even interviewing each and every one of your security guards, uh, in person just in case." She looked at me with full curiosity, but remained cautious of my presence. Slowly, I went to her bed and gingerly started picking my stuff up. As I was about to put my vest on, I felt a soft hand on my right shoulder. I froze, then whipped my head to the right. Charlie, alarmed, stepped back. With full courage, she walked to me again and helped me put all of my equipment on. I looked at her (with a shocked expression underneath the mask) affectionately. I can feel she was forcing herself to be even nearer to me judging from her trembling hands. Shyly, I whispered, "Thank you." She shook her head, and looked at me intensely. "No..." she whispered back, cupping my face with her hands. "Thank you." At that moment, I was completely hypnotized by her eyes. I felt numb, and I couldn't breath. Then slowly, she started to lift my mask. My brain shouted to stop her, but my body wouldn't respond. She stopped halfway, only revealing the lower half of my nose and my full lips. Biting her lower lip, she leaned in to me, and brushed her lips on my cheek. It was the sweetest sign of affection I have received in my life. I put my hand on hers, while the other shakily glided up her fore arm. She shivered again, and let her lips linger on my cheek longer than necessary. Gulping, I decided to bite the bullet and stepped closer to her. She stepped back, shaking, but her eyes told me to keep on going. I walked forward, she stepped back. I walked forward again and again, and she stepped back until her back made contact to the wall. I stepped even closer, until my body slightly pressed against hers. She took a gulp of fresh air, as she looked at me. Challenging me. I can feel the heat radiating from her body, a drop of sweat glided down her forehead. I brushed a strand of her light brown hair, as her eyes darted back and forth from my eyes to my exposed lips. I gritted my teeth together, then boldly pressed my lips to hers softly, brushing them to hers. "Any day, I would gladly give my life in order to save yours ..." I whispered intimately. I felt a puff of air coming out from her mouth, while she shut her eyes closed. She trembled. Boy, did she tremble. I couldn't tell if it was from fear or something else, but I realized I crossed the line. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 03 Embarrassed, I quickly stepped back, and noticed her chest was heaving violently up and down. She opened her eyes, and I noticed that they became darker and dilated somehow. Darker from... fear, maybe? I pulled my mask in its proper place, while still staring back at her. Quietly, I started to walk towards her open balcony, while I heard a small whimper behind me. "Wait," she croaked brokenly. "Can I at least know your name?" Without stopping, I answered, "Call me Seventy-Six." With that, I went out and crawled to the roof. ------------------- (The prisoner stirred once again, careful to not make any noise. The prisoner doesn't know how long the sleep has lasted. Perhaps minutes, hours, maybe even weeks. But what the prisoner does know is the fact that things are going to get...much worse. Carefully with a small pebble, the prisoner made a small mark on the wall, indicating how many times Andre the guard made his morning or nightly duty routine.) ------------------- "You did what!?" Carrie asked the next day. We were in my hotel room, and I just finished showering. It's a habit of mine to walk around naked in my room since it felt refreshing. Oddly enough, I was very comfortable being naked in front of Carrie. At first, she blushed when she saw me without a single bit of clothing on my body. "Do you always walk around naked in your room?" she asked shyly, obviously trying to hide her blushing face. I smirked, knowing full well that being commando in front of her makes her blush. "Why, yes," I said jokingly. "I always do, so get used to it." Blushing again, she looked away, and asked," So what are you going to do about this whole Charlie situation?" Sighing, I looked for my civilian clothes, "I don't know...I'm completely clueless about this whole thing!" She sat on my bed, trying to hide a smile. "Alright," I said, rolling my eyes. "Spill it!" "You got it bad for her!" she giggled. "That is so adorable!" "Fuck you!" "Oh, I'm sure I'm not the one who you want to fuck!" she smirked. I blushed. "So you're going to her house tonight, again?" I combed my hair, and gave her a funny look. "Of course! It's my assignment, you ass." "Oh, I'm sure you now have different reasons than that," she smirked, raising an eyebrow. Smiling, I didn't say anything to her comment. -------------------- There I was again, lying on top of Charlie's roof. Same old, same old. But this time, I felt an overwhelming amount of emotions scattered throughout my body. Hell, I almost got caught by one of the guards since I wasn't as sneaky to get into her property. But. There I was, looking up to the stars naming as many constellations as I can. Then, I heard her shuffling inside somewhere in her room. A few minutes later, she opened her balcony door, and the goddess herself walked out of it. My eyes widening, I pulled my night goggles up, and took in the beautiful sight. She was wearing a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt with short shorts. With her hair a little bit messy, she was bare foot. The way she dressed was simple, but whatever she wore still made her look breathtaking. Obviously the daughter of Aphrodite herself, I thought to myself. Inching myself near the edge, I looked at her with complete amazement. She started pacing back and forth, looking like she was deep in thought. Then, she stopped abruptly and looked up. Quickly, I laid myself on my back, hoping to God she didn't see me. I felt like a stalker looking at her like that. It was completely unprofessional of me. Suddenly, there was a loud crash on the balcony. Completely forgetting about my night goggles, they somehow got detached from my head. The result? They fell and crashed probably in front of Charlie. There was a twisting feeling inside my stomach, and I covered my mouth from cursing out loud. "I-I know you're there," she said, forcing herself to say it louder. "Can you please come out?" Fuck, I thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! As I was about to scramble out of there, she said with a pleading voice, "Please? I w-want to talk to you in p-person." I stopped, and sighed. Again, I argued to myself in my head over and over again. Apparently, my left lobe does not agree with my right lobe that often. This time, my right lobe won again. Slowly, I walked to the edge of the roof, and quietly jumped down right in front of Charlie. She was taken aback, but began to relax when she saw my familiar figure. Still crouching, I looked up and slowly erected myself. I stared at her shyly while putting hands at my back, showing her I wasn't any kind of a threat. "Hello," she breathed, as she walked closer to me. I raised an eyebrow, surprised she's not a bit shocked finding me standing in front of her again. "Hello again," I answered softly, hoping she won't recognize my own voice. "Is...everything well here?" She took a couple steps closer to me, her green eyes sparkling underneath the moonlight. "Yes, everything is good. But...can you please come inside? Please?" I bit my lower lip, and nodded lightly. She smiled, and walked back inside her room, glancing back at me a couple of times. Smiling nervously, I followed her. Her room was now clean and well lit, but it was dim enough to have that relaxing atmosphere. I looked around the room, taking it in. It was actually quite lovely, fitting her personality well. "I, uh, made some tea downstairs. Want a cup?" she asked nervously, shuffling to the door. Sitting on her bed, I nodded to her and she scrambled her way downstairs. Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, I thought to myself. What the hell are you doing? Even though my body absolutely, and I mean a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y, want to sprint out of there, I couldn't. It seemed like I was glued down, like I wanted her to know I was actually there. A few minutes later, she came back carrying a small tray, holding two cups of tea. Without making eye contact, she put it down on a night table next to the bed. I cleared my throat and slowly grabbed one of the cups. I lifted my mask halfway as she silently sipped on hers, eyeing me with interest. I paused only for a second, and continued to lift it halfway. Then, I took a small sip. "So," she said, leaning in a bit towards me, strands of her messy hair falling down to her collarbone. "Seventy-six. S-s-o you're, like, what. My personal bodyguard?" "You could say that," I said after I took a small sip. She nodded knowingly, hoping for me to go on. I cleared my throat, "That's all I can tell you." She nodded again, but awkwardly. She fidgeted, looking down at the carpet, obvious there was a lot in her mind. I looked at her curiously as I set my cup on the table, then pulled the mask down. "This doesn't make sense to me at all," she said as she awkwardly stood in front of me. "And I mean all of it." I nodded, knowing full well what she might be feeling at the moment. Confused, fear, paranoia, etc. I put all my attention to her, hoping she will continue. She sighed with frustration, "Well, what CAN you tell me? B-b-because honestly, I'm scared. I'm absolutely terrified of s-something like t-the...'last time's' situation might h-happen again and g-god I don't think I can t-tak-" "That's why I'm here, Ms. Carlson," I whispered to her, hoping my voice was soothing enough for her to relax. "You don't need to worry of any danger in the future as long as I'm here." Without any making eye contact with me, she nodded as she looked sadly at the ground. "How are you, Ms. Carlson?" I asked quietly, but professionally. As soon as she heard my voice again, her body stiffened. Then, she slowly and unsurely sat by my side, perhaps a little bit too close. Looking down at her lap, she was trying to say something to me, but hesitating to do so. Instinctively, I put my hand on hers, hoping to throw out some comfort to her. It worked. Maybe a bit too effectively. She started to shake, and looked at me with her puppy eyes. This time, though, they weren't as playful or energetic. Sadness and fear overpowered those beautiful eyes of hers. The tears came next, it was if I broke a dam and all the water came rushing out. "I'm so s-s-scared," she sobbed as she tried to wipe the tears off her face,"I-I-I-I've never been so scared i-i-i-n my l-life." I've seen many people cry in my life, from a toddler to a 90-year-old man, enemies and allies. But not once did I feel protective or had any signs of sympathy when they cried, not until now. Charlie is crying in front of me, and a feeling of protectiveness I have for her increased by 110%. Without thinking, I took off my boots and my leather gloves. Rather awkwardly, I put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, and looked at me questionably. Softly, I pulled her body into mine, hoping to comfort her in any way possible. She hesitated at first, sniffed, and eventually leaned into me. I pulled Charlie into a full embrace while I pushed her gently down her back. She made sure her body was in contact with mine the whole time by clinging to me. So I laid myself down next to her as Charlie wept, her face crushing to my chest. I uttered comforting words into her delicate ears, saying everything will be alright. Here and there, she'll squeeze her body even closer to my body, making me feel like my respiratory system will fail on me anytime soon. I let my arm be used as her pillow, while I rubbed her back for comfort. We stayed still like that with Charlie weeping quietly, until she stopped. She slowly put her head up until we were face-to-face, our faces only an inch apart. Under the moonlight, her eyes were red and puffy, her hair tangled and messy. But I didn't care, she looked more beautiful as she ever was. Gently, I let my hand abandon her back and wiped her teary eyes. She closed her eyes. "Ms. Carlson," I said quietly, hoping my voice wasn't quivering. "Trust me when I tell you this: I will protect you anyway possible. Anywhere you go, I will be hiding in the shadows" Another tear rolled down her cheek "but I won't interfere with your everyday life. Not until any danger " I wiped the tear off her face, letting my thumb glide across her baby soft skin "will be near you, that's when I'll strike." A soft whimper barely audible erupted from her throat. "So you don't need to worry." She opened her eyes, and a sign of trust was present. She nodded gently, as her hand went to my stomach. "Thank you," she said quietly," I don't know how I can ever repay you." I smiled, "By keeping you alive, that's rewarding enough for me." She looked at me again, knowing full well that my statement made an impact on her, and smiled. Snuggling, she slept safely and comfortably that night with me holding her in my arms. I was in heaven. -------------------------------------------------------- (Weakly, the prisoner tried to stay upright, but the body was too weak. Too broken. Too many torturous days in this hell. A loud tap, and the prisoner didn't even flinch. Andre the guard was doing his routine, once again, which means another torturous session with "The Judge" afterwards. This time, the prisoner did flinch of the thought of another moment with that man.) --------------------------------------------- "We have a situation at Mexico," Carrie said to me matter-of-factly as she was typing away on her laptop. "An American CIA agent went missing a couple of weeks ago, and no one knows where he is. But an anonymous tip confirmed that he might be in this underground prison and-what the hell, are you even listening to me?" I was staring blankly at the white wall in my hotel room, as I laid my body down on the bed. Shaking myself to come back to reality, I looked at Carrie," What?" Not knowing whether to act shocked or just laugh her ass off, Carrie shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. "Well, I'm just saying that if this thing at Mexico escalate, then The Agency might need someone to step in to make things right again." I looked at her blankly. "Someone with experience." I looked at her blankly once again. "And unlimited skills, Seventy-six." "I know, Carrie, I'm not a dumbass," I said, smirking. "But I highly doubt if they send me in. They need to train people to level up. So I won't be surprised if they send a young one to...'prove themselves to the agency.' " She shrugged as she closed her laptop and set it beside her." I'm just saying, just prepare yourself for the worse might yet to come." I turned my head towards her and raised an eyebrow. "I'm sensing this isn't necessarily about the American spy." "You catch on pretty quick, seventy-six," she sighed as she walked towards me. "I'm just...saying. Things might not go as planned." She sat on the bed and laid herself next to me, her shoulder almost touching mine. "I...I know," I said somewhat quietly. "I know things will definitely not go as planned. But, damn it! Just this once, I want to be happy." She turned her head towards me, a look of concern crossed her face. "She makes you happy?" I turned to her, and nodded. "Just the thought of her makes me happy. It... I don't know. I can't explain it, she just... does. Makes me happy, I mean, without any effort." I turned my whole body to her. "I want this, just this once. I don't care if it only takes a month, or months to be with her, but don't I deserve to be happy? Just this once?" Carrie smiled, turning her little body frame towards me. She cupped my face and nodded, "I believe you deserve everything on Earth that'll make you happy. And if Charlie makes you happy, then go get her, Agent Seventy-Six." I smirked, putting my hand on top of hers," Pamela. I told you to call me Pamela." She smiled and nodded, "Pamela it is." ------------------------------------------------- (The guard threw the prisoner into the cell harshly, and the prisoner's body made contact to the hard concrete floor once again. Spitting out blood, the prisoner tried to sit up, but failed. Unmoving, the prisoner can feel the splitting wounds oozing out blood, especially the one on the prisoner's face. A deep straight slice on the forehead, down through the prisoner's left eye, stopping on the collarbone. The prisoner tried opening the left eye, but failed to do so when the pain became unbearable. This time, the prisoner, staying unmoved on the ground, gave a small whimper.) ---------------------------------------------------- As the days went on, Charlie and I became unseparatable. During the day, we became very close friends, going shopping all the time and enjoying each other's company. At night, I would stay up on the roof, until she'll call to me. That's when I'd go down, and greet her.Then, we would talk about her day, opinions, and frustrations. In return, I'll tell her a bit about myself and my history with The Agency. But most importantly, we'd talk when we lay down on her bed. And this happened routinely for the next two months straight. "How can anyone take that kind of treatment?" she asked incredulously. "That's inhumane!" I shrugged turning my covered body to her, "Just the way it is for us." She inched her way closer to me, "You know, I've been trying to figure out your age for the past, oh I don't know, two months. So. I got to know. How old are you?" I smiled under my mask, "Guess." She bit her lower lip, and tried to cut through my mask with her eyes. "Hmmm twenty-seven." Trying to hold my laugh, I shook my head, but then gave her an escaped giggle. She pouted and tried to look offended, but laughed along with me. "Am I way off then?" "Close. Not bad. Not bad at all, Ms. Carlson." She giggled, and slapped me playfully on my arm. "I told you to call me Charlie! So come on, out with it." Shyly, I put a finger on her chin, making random soft circles on her soft skin. God, I love the feel of her skin. "Twenty-one. Going to be twenty-two next month." She hummed, her green eyes sparkling up to me. Snuggling even closer to my chest, she took my hand, studying it closely. "You know..." she whispered, "call me naïve, call me whatever, but I feel...I feel like there's something going on here. Do you agree?" With her finger, she trailed a vein on my hand, back and forth. "Am I wrong?" she mumbled when I didn't reply. I pulled my hand away from her, and her body stiffened. Sighing, I let my fingertips glide along the side of her neck and the side of her face. In response, she shivered, her hand fell on my forearm. "There's something going on here," I said shyly, my finger tracing her earlobe. "I was afraid..." Gingerly, her head rose from my chest, and snuggled to my neck. I forgot to breathe. "Afraid of what?" she asked so softly, but every movement of her lips I felt on my neck. "Please tell me?" My chest started heaving violently, my body temperature incredibly hot. I couldn't breathe well through my mask. "Hmmm..."Charlie hummed, knowing full well my breathing pattern changed. "Why won't you tell me?" "Because I can't...can't think," I gasped as her fingers raked across my stomach. I can feel her smiling on my neck. Gently, she started lifting my mask up, but I stopped her. A second passed, then two seconds, then three. Inching her way up, she put her forehead to mine, and gently landed her lips onto mine. It was now harder for me to breathe through my mask. "Shhhh..."she cooed, her lips still on mine through the mask. She started lifting my mask up again. "I trust you completely" she gently bit on my mask, gently pulling it with her teeth "don't you trust me?" I started shaking, and pulled her to me tightly, as she quickly took my mask off. Completely. The side we were laying on had a bit of moonlight shining on us, but the other half was completely dark. I crushed my lips to hers, desperate for her lips. Quickly, I rolled her over to the other side, and she whimpered as she wrapped one of her legs over to me, pulling me even closer. Her hands found the tie of my hair, and removed it completely, letting my long hair hover around her. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled it to her with force, I couldn't breathe. Oxygen was a rare thing at the moment. I couldn't even think. All I can feel is this abnormally high body temperature of mine, and my blood so hot that it feels like acid going to ooze out of my skin. Shyly, she pushed her tongue in, wiggling its way in. Electrical. That was the perfect word, it was if two wires jolted into life. It was hot. Definitely too hot for clothes to cling onto my body along with my weapons. I needed to get them off, and I needed to get them off now. Grunting, I struggled to sit up, I can feel the sweat on my skin covering 100% of my body. Charlie growled, refusing to let my body uncling to hers, she hooked her other leg over. With her two legs, she strongly pulled my hips to hers, her hands like chains on the back of my head. She started to grind slowly, her tongue trailing from my mouth, down to my chin, then to my bare throat. I hissed, turning into goo. I struggled to sit up again, but her hands were like claws, gliding down my sides. I let out a little whimper, and she dared to let out a small giggle as she continued to suck on my neck. I couldn't take it anymore. With my trembling hands, I grabbed her hands and put them above her, I can hear her ragged breathing. It was if she just ran a full marathon. We can only see each other's body outline, which I was thankful for since she couldn't see my face. "Stay there," I breathed in her ear, my breath sending shivers throughout her body. She whimpered, her lower lip trembling with need. "Seventy-six...please..." she said brokenly, trembling. She tried leaning towards me, her head eagerly trying to meet mine, and knowing full well her hands were above her. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 03 Even though I can only see only 10% of her body, I can feel her. Every bit of her muscle contractions, breath, sweat. Everything. I took my weapons off: pistols, assault rifle, knife (safely shielded), everything and put them on the side of Charlie. Charlie Shuddered once again, and sat up, her legs still around me. Slowly, I tried getting my vest off my chest, until I felt her hands. "Let me," she whispered in the dark, and gently tugged my vest away. She found the zipper of my suit, and glided it down. I nervously put my hands on her shoulders, then felt Charlie lightly kiss one of my hands, gently rubbing her cheek on it. "Don't be afraid," she mumbled, her teeth vibrating on my hand. I got out of my suit awkwardly, except for my lower half. Charlie lifted my tank top underneath, along with my bra. Then, I gently lifted her night shirt and threw it on the ground. Smiling, I let my fingertips dance across her chest as I kiss her lips. "I am afraid," I whispered during the kiss. Charlie rolled me to my back, I can feel the cold metal of my gun on my side. I shivered as I feel her skin, hotter than mine. Her skin felt sweaty, but completely erotic. Her goose-bumps were like knives piercing through my skin. "Of what?" she whispered back, nibbling on my lower lip. "Of...you," I mumbled as I held in my moan. "Why is that?" she smiled, and nibbled on my neck. "Because I'm definitely falling for you," I answered without thinking. Suddenly, she stopped, which made me regret answering. A second, two seconds, three seconds, then four seconds went by, but it felt like eternity. Then she rolled off me, and hopped off the bed. My heart felt like it got stabbed and shredded into millions of pieces. While she was getting her clothes, I slowly sat up and got off the bed, ignoring the moonlight. Hundreds of questions screamed in my head, as I got my clothes too. "I'm seeing someone," she suddenly said, her back on me. A lump formed in my throat. How did I miss this? I got my suit, vest, and some of the weapons on me, as I felt her stare. "Aren't you going to ask me who it is?" she asked quietly like a child would. "Or do you already know his name." No, I thought to myself, I don't want to know. But at the back of my mind, I already knew who it was. Pretending like her words didn't affect me whatsoever, I tried looking for my mask and my hair tie. I knew the hair tie was long gone, but I found the mask in Charlie's hand. Getting the mask meant walking towards her, and the moonlight was shining brightly from the window at her like a spot light. I couldn't bear for her to know who I really am. I held out my hand, indicating that I wanted my mask handed to me. She held out the mask, but made no attempt to move. Her eyes were like diamonds, sparkling. "Seventy-si-" "Make sure your security is well-maintained, and keep all your doors and windows locked at all times," I said professionally, desperately trying to shrug off the pain I felt inside," especially the balcony door." She slightly dropped her hand, her mouth trying to say the right words. She looked like a broken toy, waiting for someone to fix it. "Wha...what do you mean?" she asked. I stepped back, tears freely running down my face, feeling empty. Disgusted, I wiped them off, took a step back, and walked to the balcony door. Reality set in my mind like an incurable disease. This was a mistake. To think that her and I were going to happen is completely impossible with my job, and her chance for a normal life. All of this was a mistake. And I had to pay for it with my own heart. I opened the door, and stepped outside, but then stopped. "Tell James to keep an eye on you," I said trembling, "There's a high chance they won't lay a finger on you if you have...someone with you most of the time." And with that, I was gone. ---------------------------------------------------- (Members of the Agency, with their full gears on, were waiting outside the gate. A lone figure of a woman was their leader, and she needed to give an order to attack and search the underground compound. But, most importantly, to get a certain prisoner out of there. "Waiting for your orders, ma'am" one of the men whispered to her. She took a deep breath, and gave the order to move in.) ------------------------------------------ "Pamela," Carrie said with concern. "It'll help if you talk about it." "Nope." I was laying on my bed in my room, looking blankly up the ceiling, playing with an unloaded gun. It has been a week after my and Charlie's last conversation in her room. Within that week, I felt empty. Numb. At the same time, completely heartbroken, but I refused to let it affect me. But since there wasn't a new assignment given to me, I still had to be Charlie's bodyguard. Therefore, I needed to suck it up, and move on. "Pamela," Carrie said, standing near the bed, "If you need anything, I'm here. I am your friend, too, remember that." I looked up at her, nodded, and smiled faintly. Gently, with a finger, she got a couple strands of hair out of my face and smiled reassuringly at me. For the next couple of weeks, I kept my distance and didn't have any physical contact with her. I followed her in the shadows everywhere she went, especially with her dates with James. She looked happy, and I felt even more disgusted with myself. Tonight, it was raining fairly hard. I stood on top of a four-foot building, keeping a close eye on Charlie. Oh, and also her date, James. This was their 5th date so far (but who's counting anyway?) and he took her out in an expensive Italian restaurant. And there I was, waiting, just waiting, to see if something bad was going to happen. Sighing, I sat down, itching my mask (good thing Carrie had extras). And soaked, of course. I looked up to the sky, and closed my eyes, feeling a bit at peace. This is your life, I thought to myself, and no one can be in it. I opened my eyes and looked towards the restaurant. To think that I had a chance with her, to start a normal relationship, was beyond impossible. Charlie looked beautiful. I leaned towards, and turned on my magnifier through my night goggles. She was wearing a sexy black dress and her hair was up. James looked good, as usual, but it looked like he was going to devour her by the way he was looking at her. On the other hand, it looked like Charlie liked the way James was looking at her by the way she was blushing and laughing. A wave of jealousy flowed throughout my body. ------------------------------------ (Andre ran to the other side of the underground prison just to see what all the commotion was all about. Guards were shouting and shooting, and the prisoners were howling and cheering. Andre got his gun ready, mumbled a little prayer, and joined his fellow friends.) ------------------------------------ After an hour and a half, Charlie and James were about to leave the restaurant. Sighing, I stood up and followed using the buildings' roofs. The raining hasn't stopped, and it was the dead of night, so there wasn't a lot of people or cars around. Just them under an umbrella, and the almost empty streets. "Come on, "James said. "Just through the alley and we can be on the other street. There's probably cabs driving around there" "No, James," Charlie said uncertainly. "Alleys in general are trouble. It's not a good idea." "Oh, come on," James said, a smile on his face. "I know this neighborhood and I know I walked through an alley more than once. It'll be okay, you're with me." Idiot! I cursed under my breath, and had no choice but to follow them. Come one Charlie, I thought to myself. Change his mind! Charlie thought for a minute, and nodded unsurely. I threw my hands up in frustration, and followed them. Then, I looked down from the building, scanning the dark, but visible alley. I had a bad feeling about this. All of the sudden, James smiled again, stopped in the middle of the alley, and lifted Charlie's chin. Then he kissed her directly on the lips, making Charlie yelp in surprise. Then, she closed her eyes, and kissed back, her hand on his cheek. My breathing stopped. Literally. I didn't notice the harsh raindrops piercing my suit. I didn't notice where I was. I didn't even notice a white van going into the alley. Nor did I notice that there was a man behind me. I heard screamings and shoutings down below, men were scrambling out of the van. With my silenced pistol, I began shooting at them, and got two of them. Charlie looked terrified, and James was trying his best to protect her. He swung his arms, kicked, and punched, but there were too many of them. I can feel the adrenaline pumping throughout my body as I shoot at the men professionally and accurately. Three more dead. While James was fighting off two men, one grabbed Charlie. But before he could pull her to the van, I shot him twice square on the head. Immediately, Charlie looked up, and I can feel her stare on me. Her green sparkling eyes met mine, her eyebrows shot up with concern, her brown hair now messy, but still managed to look beautiful. I looked towards James, trying to fight off the two last men. As I was about to shoot at one of the men, a masculine hand grabbed me from behind, and I lost balance. I turned around and tried to grab the person who grabbed me, to pull myself up, but he too lost balance. Half a second later, we were both falling directly onto the van. Pain. Our bodies made contact to the solid top of the van, and I cried out in pain. I heard a crack on my side, and I could not move. I couldn't think nor hear from the buzzing sound inside my head. ------------------------------------- (Andre was trapped. Whoever these guys were, there were a lot of them. He saw his friends getting shot one by one. He prayed a little prayer again, and ran out, shooting mindlessly everywhere.) -------------------------------------- Slowly, I sat up, and saw another van driving in. Drunkenly, I rolled off the man's body that was on top of mine and rolled myself off the van, landing violently to the ground. I saw my gun, and gingerly tried reaching for it as I lay there on my stomach. "You lay a finger on that pistol, and I will kill them," a booming Italian accented voice said. Quickly, I looked up, and saw ten more men from the other van pointing the gun at me. "Stand up," the masculine voice ordered, "and no tricks." I looked to my right and saw Charlie, kneeling with her hands behind her, and James, his face on the ground, unconscious. Charlie looked intensely at me, her lower lips quivering from the combination of the cold rain and fear. I clenched my teeth together, and painfully stood up. How did this happen, I thought to myself. From each and every step, I felt everything around me. The raindrops became bullets trying to go through my suit. The water beneath my boots was a river, waiting for me to drown. The men wearing the black clothes and masks were my firing squad. And I felt the stare from an innocent person, which I failed to protect. I looked at Charlie, and she stared back, her eyes full of emotions. Curiously, the leader followed my gaze, and raised an eyebrow. I can feel him smirking underneath his mask. "Kneel," he said. "And put your hands behind you." I stopped, and obediently did as I was told. I looked away from Charlie, and stared at the leader without any emotions. Taking one deep breath, it took every bit of energy within my body not to shiver. "Who are you?" the leader said. I didn't answer. The leader shifted, and pointed the gun at me. And fired. The bullet hit the right edge of my bicep, and I cried out in pain, feeling the blood flowing freely out of it. He then pointed the gun at Charlie, and I answered immediately, "Agent S-seventy-six." The leader, lowered his gun, and holstered it, while I tried to regain my breathing normally. I can feel my body beginning to weaken, my vision blurry, and my mind twirling, but I ordered my body to stay erect. Proud. Brave. The men around him spat immediately after they heard my name, and the leader looked at me with interest. He took off his mask, and said," Remember me, Seventy-six?" Focusing my gaze at him, he walked towards me, and squatted in front of me. His harsh, bearded face came to focus, and his cold grey eyes triggered a name in my mind. "Marco," I hissed, my fists turning into balls. Marco Romano was his name, and he was one of the top leaders of the world's human trafficking business. He was a ghost, a no one, but he was good businessman in the underworld trade. It was a year and a half ago, perhaps even more, when I interfered with his business. His brother, Alfonso, was his partner, a proud and ruthless man. And I killed him using my own blade. Marco had a lot of connections within the government, so he patiently tried to find his brother's killer. And somehow, he had a name: Agent Seventy-six. The Agency warned me about Marco, but I was good at lying low. Well, that is, until now. He smiled crookedly, and punched me hard on the stomach, a large lump formed in my throat, and I groaned in pain once again. "That was for me," he spat, and stood up, my cheek on the ground. "What's in store for you is for Alfonso." With that, he went to my side and kicked me, and my body cried out in utter pain. As he talked to his men in Italian, he walked behind me and the men began dragging Charlie and the unconscious James into the van. Screaming, Charlie tried squirming away, but one of the men slapped her across the face, and spat on her. Gasping, that only angered Charlie more, and continued to squirm, but quieted when the man got his gun out. With James still laying on the ground unconscious, Charlie froze like a statue as the cold metal made contact with her forehead. "W-wait," I croaked, spitting out blood, while trying to stand erect with the remaining energy I had left. "Leave t-t-them alon-" Marco immediately pulls me from behind, making me stand erect. I whimpered like a dog. He grabbed the back of my mask ruthlessly, and pulls it, pulling a couple strands of hair along with it. The raindrops made contact to my naked face, rolling down my cheek mixed with my tears. He threw the mask in front of Charlie, then kicked me on my back, making me fall down on my face. My body went in contact with the hard floor close to Charlie's knee, my head spinning. The men laughed, but Marco laughed the loudest. Unconsciously, I semi-crawled, hoping to go near Charlie, hoping to protect her from the last remaining energy I had left in my body. Once I was close enough, I reached out and touched her thigh, I can feel my body beginning to give itself up. "P-pamela?" she whispered in the quietest voice, her body trembling. Grunting, I looked up at her, and made eye contact. Her green eyes were full of different emotions. Fear, concern, realization. But fear dominated them all. I tried standing up, my body in the weakest state it has ever been, then felt someone's foot pushing me down. I can hear my own heart pumping. "Well what do we have here," Marco sneered, putting more pressure on my back. I made small choking sounds, tears freely coming down my cheeks. "Both of you know each other, hmmm?" At the corner of my eye, I can see him stroking Charlie's face, his face full of lust. "Don't you dare touch her!" I spat. Marco looked down at me, and curiously looked at Charlie, who was looking at me the entire time. Then, a sly grin crawled across his lips, his eyes sparkling not from a brilliant plan, but a brilliant cruel act that exploded in his mind like a bomb. "Ahhh I see, I see..." he said, still grinning. "You care for this girl." I closed my eyes, wishing I would disappear, but the reality of the situation hovered me like a blanket. "Like, what do you call this," he waved his arm. "Star-crossed lovers, no?" The other men whistled, some cheered. Suddenly, Marco ordered one of the men to position James in a kneeling position, supported by one of the men. The man, having a confused look on his face, nodded, and did what he was told. Charlie squirmed again, crying when she saw what was happening. Marco went to Charlie's side, and put a gun to her head. "Kneel," he said gravely, looking down at me. Being a bit incoherent, I drunkenly tried to kneel, but stumbled a few times. James and I were kneeling in front of Charlie very close, I can see every facial details on her face. The men laughed again. Swaying a bit, I closed my eyes, and opened them again, seeing Marco releasing Charlie's handcuffs,. He gave her his gun, a very powerful and expensive gun that was especially made for him and only him. What's going on, I thought to myself. I can feel my body going numb, but my heart was still beating as fast as ever. Charlie looked confused as ever. "Well, Seventy-Six has a love interest!" Marco said, sarcastically. The men cheered again, some of the guns banging against the van. "But, let's play a game, eh? The...what do you call this. A love test, yes?" Sneering, he played with Charlie's ear, but she flinched away. He smiled. "From what I thought, you were not allowed to have your heart interfere with your job, yes?" Marco looked at me, and I nodded weakly. "But you love her, no?" I hesitated, looked at Charlie, and then looked down. "Ahhh," Marco laughed. "This should be interesting than I thought." Humming to himself, he walked behind Charlie and got his other gun out, letting it rest by his side. "You see, I am bored," he said, pouting. "So let's make this clear and simple: there is two people in front of you, yes? Seventy-six and this other man I presume is your boyfriend, no?" Trembling, Charlie weakly nodded, her body completely covered in water. "But the thing is," he sneered, "you have to choose and you can only choose one." He held out a finger up in the air, and my heart stopped beating. He leaned over, making sure Charlie gets the message clearly. "So you, gal," he said, unemotional. "You have to shoot the other one on the heart." With his finger, he patted Charlie's sternum. Charlie looked at me incredulously, her eyes wide with complete fear, and her tears started again. I looked at James, and back at Charlie. "I-i-i-" "You have two minutes," he whispered in her ear, and I closed my eyes again. "If you don't make a decision by then, I will kill. You. All." I already knew the outcome of the situation, I can feel her decision erupting out of her skin. "One and thirty-seconds..." I opened my eyes again, and steadily looked at Charlie, knowing full well my eyes were watering. "One minute left..." "Please don't do this!" Charlie cried, the gun pointing at James, then at me, then at James... "Thirty seconds..." My whole body was shaking, I couldn't even feel the pain I was feeling before anymore. I was numb. Just numb. "Twenty..." Charlie is panicking, her face in anguish "Ten sweetie...clock is ticking..." Charlie locked eyes with me, and I didn't dare look away. "Five..." Shaking, the barrel made contact to my chest, where my heart was located. "Three..." "Char-" "Two..." Charlie's finger curled. She closed her eyes, but I never broke my eye contact to her. "I-" I began to say, whispering. "One." She pulled the trigger, and I felt myself crashing back, gasping for air, I cried out in agony. The last thought I had was: I love you. --------------------------------------------------- (Andre shook in pain. He was shot on the leg. Whimpering, he tried crawling anywhere, but where he was now. "Don't move," a female voice behind him ordered. He stopped, gulping. Then, he felt the cold gun barrel on the back of his head, and he was begging not to shoot. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 03 "I need to find someone," the voice said firmly. "And I you're going to help me.") ---------------------------------------------------- The cold rain pierced my body, I can feel every drop no matter big or small. Faintly, I opened my eyes, a drop went in my right eye. Violently, I started breathing, my chest heaving up and down. I was shot, wasn't I? Grunting, I looked at my chest and came to the realization that I had my bulletproof vest on. I couldn't think clearly, I couldn't hear clearly, I couldn't even see clearly. All I know is that I...was moving. Everything was shaking, there were some various voices, and...music? Radio...I groaned. I was in the van, I was sure of it. All the sudden, I felt some kind of cloth over my head. Then blackness. "You're awake," a voice said." What a shame you're not dead, because you're going to pay for my brother's death. You, my friend, are going to hell." --------------------------------------- ("Ma'am!" a man, one of the members, said as they scattered throughout the underground prison. "I found it!" The female figure stopped and sprinted to the man.) --------------------------------------- I woke up again, a little more coherent this time, but it wasn't until an hour or so later when the van stopped moving. "Wake up sunshine!" a man's voice quirked. The cloth over my eyes was gone, and I was facing the van door. The door opened, brightness came rushing in, making me blink a couple of times. It was hot, like desert hot, my skin was burning. My skin. With horror, I realized I had nothing on except my bra and underwear. I closed my eyes, and opened them with anger. Moving my arms, I was still handcuffed, and I cussed in frustration. I looked at my arm, all the blood was dried up, but the messy injury was there. As I tried turning around, I saw a glimpse of Marco, grinning. Then he pushed me out of the van with full force, and I fell flat on the sandy surface. Scrambling to stand up, I heard Marco say "hasta luego" and sped off. I looked around, coughing. Nothing. Just a land of...sand. And cactuses. But just as I thought that there weren't any buildings nearby, I saw a tiny building about half a mile from where I was. I guess the sun was playing tricks on my eyes. And I also realized that a human figure was walking my way. Limping, I went to the figure, and we met halfway. I looked at him, and caught my breath. He was a big man, around 250lbs. Scruffy, he looked like he hasn't shaved in years. But all in all, he looked ordinary: he had a plain white t-shirt on, ripped up jeans, and a pair of faded blue sneakers. Then I saw his shotgun, slung across his back. He smiled menacingly, and spat on the ground "The name's Andre," he said, his voice deep and monstrous. "Welcome home, amiga." --------------------------------------------- ( The members of the Agency crowded around the cell, unmoving. Stopping in front of the cell, the female figure was stopped by a nearby agent. She glared at him. "Ms. Carrie, I don't think you want t-" She shoved him aside and went in the cell, and the first thing she noticed was the horrible smell of blood. She can taste the iron even through her mask. She looked around and saw...the prisoner, barely without clothes on, only wearing a bra and underwear. Without hesitation, she went to the prisoner's side, and rolled the body over. What she saw made her gasp, almost cried to tears. The body was thin, a sign of malnutrition. The body was scarred and bloodied, a sign of abuse and torture. The prisoner was passed out, and the female figure called out the medic and told one of the agents to get a helicopter to land near the facility right away. Then, she began weeping, hugging the half-dead body near her chest. "Oh, Pamela," she whispered, her voice shaking. "What did they do to you?" One of the agents felt disgusted, and looked away from the bloodied body. He paid attention to the small white markings on the wall. He counted 385.) --------------------------------------------- To be continued... The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 Happy holidays! This is the final chapter for the mission of the heart series. I hope you guys like it! I hope you guys had a good Christmas and good year! -YoursTruly101 ----------- ("The deal is done," the dark figure said, sitting behind the desk. "You know what must be happen." The female figure looked at her, pleading. "I know it's done," she said in a low voice. "But please...you must do this for me." "And why is that so?" "Because...I know you love her too." The dark figure said nothing, its fist slammed onto the wooden desk. It pointed a hand towards her. "Don't you dare!" "It was successful before! What harm can it possibly do?" "Everything!" the dark figure's teeth grinded together. "The operation is simply risky." "But can't you risk it? For her sake?" The figure froze, its arms on the armchair, leaning its back onto the backrest. It exhaled slowly, its sad eyes looking directly at its forced visitor. "I did," it said with regret in its voice. "I did." ) ---------------------- I am in control here. "We need the doctor here now!" The cries were faded, like an echo of memories I never knew existed. Darkness. Memories of my past. Or is it my present? I'm not quite sure. I'm not sure of anything anymore. A flicker. I'm in Russia, Portugal, Spain. North Korea. Faces of people I've met. People I've killed in cold blood. Thailand. My body shook. Shaking and shaking, a neverending series of convulsions. "Fuck! Where's doctor Philips!? We need her now! Her body is reacting!" A series of lights, series of memories until I finally found myself in Chicago, Illinois. I remember how young I was, only 19 years-old. Young, so willing to kill. Strong as ever. I remember how cold Chicago was during the month of January, how the snow felt poisonous as I crouched behind the bushes of Mr. Porter's yard. Voices. Beeps, voices, beeps, voices, shoutings. I was there, I wasn't there. Hands, metallic objects, tubes where on and in me, but I couldn't move nor can I open my eyes. I couldn't feel. All I can do is lay there, and listen. And wait. ----------------- Struggling, I opened my eyes, but came to the conclusion that my left eye couldn't open. Moaning softly, I tried moving my head and eye around, everything was white. Bright and white. There was a low humming noise and many medical equipment around me, but no one was there. I struggled to get up, but decided it wasn't worth every bit of energy I had for there were numerous of bandages on my skin, and tubes and needles in me. I tried talking, but my mouth was dry like a desert. Wait, a desert. Flashes of my staying in the underground facility sped through my mind. I started to panic as I saw myself getting tortured and beat down by a cruel man who called himself "The Judge." Each and every memory hit me like a bullet, my body began to shake and I eventually ripped all the tubes and bandages away. Gasping uncertainly, I found myself naked, but that wasn't all. My body was scarred, not a single area remained untouched. Even my hands and fingers were scarred. I closed my eye, trying to calm myself down Grunting, I stood on my own feet, feeling extremely dizzy and not to mention weak. My body wasn't as it was before, I can feel there wasn't as much muscle by every movement I made. It was if I possessed a stranger's body. Shaking my head, I can feel there wasn't as much hair on my head than before, but it was long enough that I can feel a bit of weight. At the corner of my eye, I saw a door. My legs started walking towards it unconsciously only to find that it was locked. Disappointed, I looked around the room even more, and found a mirror, but I knew better. I knew it was a one-way mirror, and I drunkenly walked to it. With tears rolling freely down my cheek, I angrily pounded on the mirror. I tried speaking, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat. "I-I know you're there," I said weakly, as my hand pounded on the mirror for the last time. "G-get me out...get me out. I need help...I...need to know what's going on..." I started sobbing, my hands sliding down against the mirror, body slumping down to the floor. The ice cold floor made contact to my naked buttocks and legs, and I began shaking as I hugged my legs to my chest. I let the back of my head rest against the wall, breathing heavily. This is not real, I thought to myself. All of this is not real. Tears began to dance around my eye, then gracefully glided down my cheek. Then a heard a click, and slowly the door swung open. I didn't bother to look who it was. All I did was stare blankly at...nothing. "Seventy-six?" a soft woman's voice rung through my ears. I didn't move nor did I attempt to look at her with my eye. "Pamela?" the woman's voice said again. My brain triggered something, I knew that voice. "Tell me what's going on, Carrie," I whispered, barely audible as I continue to look blankly at the wall across the room. "Do not hold back. Tell me everything." With that, I looked at her, a concern look on her face. She looked different with her long hair, her body more firm and mature Wait a second, mature I began standing up, and looked at her closely. "When...is this?" I asked, choking a bit. Carrie looked uncertain, and cautiously walked towards me. She placed a soft hand on my cheek, wiping a tear away. "It has been two and a half years since our last contact, Pamela," she whispered. -------------- Carrie offered to explain everything to me in a debriefing room after I put a hospital robe on. "Where am I?" I asked, undecided if I wanted the answer or not. "I can't tell you," she said with a pitying look. She offered a hand, and I hesitated. Then, slowly, I took it, letting her lead the way through the unknown building. To say that building was just an ordinary building was an understatement. This building was big, having multiple soldiers, doctors, nurses, you name it, roaming around freely. There were multiple rooms. Sneaking a peek, there was a room consisting of high tech computers and other technologies that were alien to me. "The Agency?" I asked, my mouth firm. Carrie didn't say anything, but led me to what looks like a debriefing room. There were many tables that were all positioned together into a circle. King Arthur's table, if you will "You can sit, if you like," Carrie said while getting a file out of her briefcase. Robotically, I sat, and looked at her. "Tell me everything." With that, she started to talk. ---------------- Approximately 385 days I was in the cell. 385 days I went through barely enough food to eat. 385 days I went through many sessions of torture and abuse. Carrie went through the files and slid one to me. I opened it up and saw "The Judge." My mouth curled in distaste. I hated that man. "His name is Javier Auqino, " she said, looking at me carefully. "He, uh, he was the owner of the underground facility. We did a background check on him and, uh, apparently he has a mental disorders. Or had." "What did you do to him," I asked, hiding the shakiness of my voice. "I killed him," she whispered, her eyes looking directly at his picture. "He was one of many Marco Romano's customers My hands made a fist. "Where is he," I said with authority instead of a question. "Where is Marco." "Pame-" "Don't call me that!" I spat, my fist painfully pounded on the table as I stood up. "Where is he!" Carrie remained calmed, but I saw in her eyes that she was uncomfortable. "Seventy-six, with your condition, we cannot tell you where he is until you are...well again." "'We' as in the Agency," I snarled sarcastically, looking at her incredulously. She nodded, and took a couple of steps towards me. She put her hands on the table, and looked at me, her body leaning to me. "Yes, the Agency. The same organization that had its own very members looked for you and rescued you from that hell. The same organization that patched you up when your body was dying for the last year and a quarter. The same organization that gave you blood, medicine, everything, Seventy-six, everything! In order to keep you alive" "Well, I didn't ask for any of that! What if I wanted to die!" "What if I didn't want you to fucking die!?" I blinked. I was utterly speechless "That's right," she said softly. "I didn't want you to die, Seventy-six. I went through every bit of begging to let the Agency take you in. Because the world needs you." "You mean the world wants me to clean up the mess it made," I said gravely, my teeth clenched together. "Like Marco Romano," she whispered. "Imagine the chaos he'll make, the terror he'll open to this country. You..." She grabbed my hand, and held it to her chest. I can feel her heart pumping. "You are the top and valuable agent the Agency has," she whispered, a tear forming in her eye. "Do you know how many agents he killed? Many, Seventy-six. Many. But he didn't kill you." "He did kill me," I said, my eye closing. "He did. He took every dignity of humanness I had in me, every love and happiness. And he replaced it with fear, and anger." "Well," she said, "I know for a fact that you are immune to fear and anger. I know that every bone in your body clings to justice, courage, and love." I smiled, and walked towards her, hugging her deeply. I never realized how much I missed her. "It's good to see you again, Seventy-six," she whispered, her lips on my neck. "It's good to see you are alive..." I hugged her even harder, my scarred hands gripping her back. "It's good to see you again, Carrie," I replied, then slowly let her go. "There's more work to be done, I'm afraid," she said, wiping some of her tears away. "Getting rid of your scars using our highly advanced laser technology here. But there's a problem: your left eye." I touched the bandage that covered my eye. "It has been...severely damaged and it's blind. But!" she continued when she saw my panicked face. "There's an eye waiting for you, perfectly compatible, and the surgery will be safe. Is it alright to use that eye in order to replace yours?" I nodded, "Yes. Definitely." "Even though it's blue?" I blinked. "Blue, red, violet, whatever works. But I thought that wasn't poss-" "Good," she said, pulling another file out of her briefcase. "Now, the long scar that goes through it and going to your collarbone...for the most part we can fix that. But the scar near and going through your eye has to stay, I'm afraid. The doctors are hesitant to let the laser go near the eye since they are going to perform the eye surgery first. They want the surgeries to go smoothly as possible." "Well, can't they do the eye surgery after getting rid of my scars?" I said as Carrie handed me the file. "Let's just say that the eye has many other admirers that want to make it as their own. And the fact that it's the only legit eye available now as we speak make's it vulnerable to other clients," she said, glancing at me. I looked through the files explaining where and how I got the scars, but stopped where it says "caused by a sharp knife" right next to my heart. I began to tremble. The file said that even though I had my share of sharp objects gliding through my skin, a long sharp and thin knife cut deep across my sternum, and all across my chest.. I never felt it. I guess at that time I was numb enough to feel nothing at all. "That almost killed you, actually, more than the torturous and abusive moments you had in the cell combined," she said quietly, her hand on my shoulder. "The doctors had to literally work on you for numerous hours, day and night, to get some of the little shards out. Some of them stayed inside of you for...well, 300 days. I was surprised you d-didn't feel any pain. Or die, for that matter." "That is surprising," I mumbled, gently closing the file. I closed my eyes and remembered everything. The rain, Marco, falling from a building. Charlie, pointing the gun at me, and James. Then finally at me, right on my heart. She pulled the trigger. The judge, smiling menacingly at me, with his yellow teeth, and psychotic eyes. Carrie looked at me questionably as I handed the file back at her. As Carrie was beginning to ask me something, I said, "Carrie, do me a favor?" as I peeked inside my hospital robe. With my hand, I felt it: a the scar across my chest. It was monstrous. "Carrie?" "Hmm?" "Don't erase this scar," I said, pointing to my heart. "Why not?" she asked, putting the files back into her briefcase. "It serves as a reminder." A reminder to never let your heart interfere with anything. ---------------- The next day, the doctors finally did the eye surgery and smoothly did it well. The next day after that, I had my scars removed except the one going through my eye, and the one on my chest. After all of that was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. The blue eye looked strange on me. "Well I think it looks mighty hot," Carrie said teasingly when I asked her opinion on it. "And that scar? Jesus, if you were a man, I would make love with you right here right now." "Scars are some kind of fetish of yours?" She laughed and trailed the scar, "Not just any kind of scars. Just the ones on you." I blinked and blushed, and she laughed even more. ---------------- For the next couple of weeks, I began to train again. Not just train, but literally trained hard each and everyday and night. I ran on the track (yes, there's a track in the building. I came to realize that the building was completely underground), I boxed, I did weights, I ate everything, but unhealthy foods. I did everything since I was willing to get the muscles I lost back on me. But, when it was time to go to sleep, it was a stranger to me. I couldn't sleep since the memories from my torture sessions in the underground facility hugged me tightly, never letting me go. I developed my own demons through my nightmares. One night, I began to weep, hugging my legs near my chest, sitting down on the floor next to the bed. It seemed like Carrie heard me since she opened the door and stuck her head in. "Seventy-six?" I looked up and saw her messy hair, glasses, wearing only a talk top and baggy shorts. To say she was gorgeous was nothing. She looked incredible dead drop gorgeous, which I never really realized before. She closed the door and sat down next to me after she turned on my lamp. She faced my body to me, her face both a bit tired and worried. "I know what this is, Carrie," I mumbled tiredly. "And I know you know what it is too. It's just...I never thought I'll be one to have it." I laughed weakly, and she smiled faintly. Trying to hold my gaze on her, the tears started flowing, and I couldn't help, but weep in front of her. Giving me a pitying look, she immediately pulled me to her chest, cradling me, rocking me like a baby. "Shh..." she whispered. "You're safe now." She kissed my forehead, her hair surrounding me like a fence, keeping the others out. She made me feel safe, my body began to relax. I slept safely with her arms around me. -------------------- I woke up around...well, honestly, I didn't know what time. I reached across my bed, half-expecting Carrie to be there, but only grasped the bed sheets with a slight disappointment. Dressing myself up in my sweats, I went to the track and ran at least 10 kilometers. It has been nine months already, strengthening myself physically as well as mentally. I all of my muscles back, but I consider my well-being better than last time. I was stronger, and I was actually eager to go back to my missions. "Already?" Carrie asked when I told her I was ready to go back into the field. "I thought you need more time to, you know, recuperate and-" "I'm ready as ever," I stated firmly. "Put me back out there." "I-I don't know, I probably need to persuade the head, a-and it's probably going to take some time-" I walked over to her and stood only a couple of inches away from her body. From the look of her eyes, I knew she doesn't want me to be out there again. For whatever reason, I was touched, but at the same time I was impatient of her emotions. "Carrie," I whispered, "I don't know why you are hesitating on me being out there again, and trust me, I'm touched." "But you know me," I looked directly into her eyes," and I will find a way somehow to get myself out of here." I put my hands on her hips, and I saw a flicker behind her eyes. "And that is what I'm willing to do if you don't help me." "I want to help you, I really do," she interjected, her eyes looking lost. "But...I just. I just don't want to see you...hurt again." I was touched. She looked down to the ground, looking mighty vulnerable and fragile in front of me. I pulled her to me, her forehead on my shoulder, hugging her closely as possible as a way I appreciated her concern. She hugged back as she hesitantly put her cheek next to mine, gliding. "I always come back in one piece-" "But I almost lost you last time," she whispered shakily, putting on a brave face. "I mean...the agency lost you...almost lost you last time." I blinked, confused at a moment with the overwhelming amount of emotions running throughout my body. Awkwardly, I walked a couple of steps back, already feeling the warmness of a blush rising up my chest. "I'll, uh, talk to the head," she said, clearing her throat and looking a bit flustered. I couldn't help, but break a smile as she walked down the hallway. ----------------- I was in the coffee room, drinking the night away, lost in my thoughts.. Last time I checked, it was around 2:38 am (roughly around that time), five hours after Carrie and I talked. What's taking her so long, I thought glumly to myself. I was restless beyond cure, my body waiting for action. I was eager to be out in the field again, sick of being in this underground facility for the past couple of months. It was suffocating me. Footsteps were echoing down the hall, coming nearer and nearer. Yawning, I lazily stood up, and a tired looking Carrie waltzed in. She froze when we made eye contact, her puppy eyes sleepy. In her hand was a tan file, with red obnoxious words of "Classified" written on the front. "It's done," she said, handing me the file. "You can get all the necessary supplies you want, including weapons, gadgets, all of those. You can also leave whenever you want." Swiftly, I took the file, and scanned through the papers. Another assassination mission, the subject was located in New York City. A Mr. Edward Burns, a 49-years-old bank manager, blah blah blah. But at this point, I was willing to kill a anyone to get out of here. Nodding, I looked at her, muttering a thank you. Then, I went to my room and forced myself to go to sleep for I was planning on going away tomorrow. I never did realize the look that Carrie gave me. The look of concern, sadness, and longing. ---------------- I was in the weaponry, getting all the necessary supplies (and new ones of course. As I looked through, I found a balaclava: black, light to wear, but keeps the head's temperature in a neutral temperature. One horizontal medium slit for the eyes were visible. My mask to the world. I glided my fingertips across the fabric, remembering the night Charlie and I... Stop it, I thought to myself. She's gone, and you almost went too. Sighing, I put the mask in the bag, along with my passport, money, and airplane ticket. As I was about to turn around, Carrie was behind me dressed in her pajamas. Her hair was messy, and her face showed the many stresses her job put her through, but she still looked beautiful. I smiled weakly and nodded," I'll be on my way." She nodded, her eyes looking into mine. As I passed her, she put a warm hand on my stomach, and I can sense her urgency. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 "Take care of yourself out there, okay?" she whispered, looking at me at the corner of her eye. Smiling, I put my hand over hers, gently caressing it, "I will. I always come back in one piece." ---------------- The flight was long, but I managed to survive through the whole thing. One thing I hate about the JFK airport was not necessarily the long process the passengers had to go through, but how the employees giving them shit about it. Carrying my baggage, I walked by crying babies, foreign tongues, fighting couples, and people who just want to be left alone in peace, like me. The television talked of another upcoming war, and the death of a Prime Minister. Shaking my head, I suspect the Agency had something to do about his death, like the capture of Saddam Hussein (which I happened to be "out of town" on the same night he was captured). I rubbed my eye, feeling the brown contact lenses drying out. Damn, I hate contacts. I whipped out my pocket mirror, making sure the make up covered my scar. Finally, I was out of the airport, and rode a cab to a nearby hotel from where Mr. Burn's penthouse was. Adjusting my glasses, I paid the driver, and immediately went to the front desk, then to my room. Putting all my stuff where it needs to be, I finally laid myself onto the bed, and let sleep take over. ----------------- Flashes of Marco, Charlie, and James went through my mind. James kissing Charlie, Marco pushing me out of his van with that gruesome smile written on his face. Charlie pulling the trigger. Images of "The Judge" torturing me. I woke up with layers of sweat on my skin, my body trembling. Gritting my teeth, I pulled out my gun, along with the silencer. Shaking, I went to the full length mirror, "Pull yourself together, Pamela," I muttered angrily to myself, brushing away the sweat that was gliding off me. "Pull your shit together!" I pointed the gun at my reflection of the mirror in front of me, my eyes screaming with fear. Fear? The gun was shaking, my hand trembling of not because of the gun, but what I saw in the mirror. The girl living in fear. Gulping, I dropped the gun to the floor, letting the lifeless metal fall. I looked at myself closely, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pointed to the girl in the mirror, asking "who are you?" Unconsciously, I went to my bag, and got a pair of scissors, feeling the sharpness of it. "Who are you," I asked again, gritting my teeth. "Ridiculous, that's who you are." I raised the scissors close to my hair, as I grabbed my hair tie off , letting my long hair flutter down. "You are stronger than this, Seventy-six," I muttered as I let the scissors cut away my hair. "You're going to be a whole lot stronger." Piles of hair start piling on the floor, the room echoed with the sound of my hair silently cut and me, silently sobbing. ------------------ "Ahhh, Ms. Elmers, new hair do?" "Yes," I answered, playing with my short, but not too short, spiky-ended hair. "I thought something needed to change, so here I am." "It suits you quite well, may I add," the front desk employee said. "You know what'd be mighty hot? If you added a bit of blond highlights in it-" "I have mail?" "Oh!" he said, a bit flustered. "Yes, a package. Here, let's see...aha! To a Ms. Catherine Elmers." Thanking him, I grabbed the package, while his eyes freely traveled on my body. Uncomfortable, I walked out of the hotel as my mind tried to come up of a plan of getting close to this Mr. Burns. But he might not be a very important client if the Agency was willing to put bits of information in the file. I don't know if I should be offended or not to have such a low-standard mission. Sighing, I pushed the thought away, thinking that I would rather have this kind of mission than being stuck in the Agency Headquarters. I snooped around the neighborhood, looking for shops and cafes he might be going into, and went in to the same bank he worked. I finally saw him around lunch time, walking out of the bank and going into a small Starbucks Café. Sighing, I abandoned the bench and the newspaper I was reading, and followed him. The café was flooded with people, from college students to middle-aged business men and women. Pretending to be in line, I looked closely at him, and thought how oblivious he was on the fact that he was going to die pretty soon. I frowned. Minutes later, he got his order, and a cheery looking employee (probably a college student) greeted him a happy birthday. "How do you feel, Mr. Burns?" "Another year older," he smirked. "What does a 49-year-old business man have to look forward to? Becoming fifty next year?" "If I was to be around your age," the smiling employee said, "I would do something crazy, before the mark of fifty is, well, marked." "Oh, I'm not young like you anymore, Joshua," he chuckled, "but I guess my crazy birthday event is on this Friday night at the New York Palace Hotel." Joshua whistled, and I strained to get a better hearing. "Wow, talk about expensive! I'm sure you'll have fun, Mr. Burns!" With that, I walked out and called a cab, going to the New York Palace Hotel. ----- "Staying the night here, miss?" "No, not yet," I replied, looking around the luxurious lobby, "but can I have my way around, see if I like this hotel?" "No, I'm sorry ma'am," the stone-faced woman said at the front desk, "you must be either an employee or a guest here to roam around." Damn, I thought to myself. Signing in to be a guest means staying at least two weeks here, meaning security cameras will get an idea what I'd look like. I can't take that risk. Besides, after a mission like this, I usually have a quick escape plan right away. I can't escape as quickly as I like in a place like this when security is high on alert. A body bumped into me, and a panicked college student at my side immediately apologized. "Lacey!" somebody called out. "Be careful!" "Again, I'm so sorry, miss," she sputtered, and immediately fast walked over to the hotel's restaurant. I looked at her outfit: white jacket, black slacks, black tie... A waitress. I smiled, and excused myself out of the hotel. ---------------- "Everything good there, then?" "Yes, "I replied to the phone that was on loudspeaker. "Everything is...planned out." Carefully, I curled some strands of my hair into tinfoil right after I put some hair coloring in it. "Look, " Carrie said in the other line. "I'm sorry I'm not there to back you up any way possible, and the other agents are extremely busy-" "Carrie," I replied, smiling. "It's okay. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself." "It's just..."she sighed. "This is sort of the first time a field agent doesn't a-a "desk" agent out there with them." "Like I said," I replied, curling more strands of hair into another tinfoil, "everything is good. No need to worry." Everything should fall into place. ---------------- "Holy- wow, Ms. Elmers! You look-" the flustered front desk employee held his tongue. "I mean, you look really, um, really-" "Well, thank you, Mark," I smirked when I read his name tag. "I went with your suggestion, putting blonde highlights in. That good?" Dumbly, he nodded, and I walked out from the hotel, smiling confidently. It was Friday evening, and Mr. Burns' birthday party is going to take place anytime soon. My guess, since Mr. Burns' is a well-known rich banker, a lot of guests will be there. Playing with my long coat, I looked up. The sky was cloudy, and the temperature was dropping. The weatherman was right, it will rain tonight. Perfect. Underneath my coat was a waitress named Ellen, a quirky, but hardworking college student who works in the New York Plaza Hotel. She might party on all weekends the chance she gets, but she is a pre-med student, which got her to land on a waitressing job at the hotel's restaurant. Ruffling my hair, I thought to myself how people would buy my look. Well, Mark certainly did, I thought. I hailed for a cab, and told the driver to take me to the hotel. Eagerly, the middle-aged man drove me, as I muttered to myself "Let's go, Ellen. Time to do your job." --------------- "Hey you! Are you new here!?" Looking a bit flustered, I whipped my head around, and nodded nervously. The waitress walked hurriedly to me, and pushed a tray full of drinks to my chest. Looking at her closely, she was the same girl who bumped into me the last time I was here. "Here, take this," she panted, looking around the room full of people. "It's fucking chaotic and crowded here with all these rich-ass people. I have new orders I need to get, so you take this tray." "O-okay," I stuttered, trying to look as nervous as possible. "What's your name?" she asked, putting strands of hair behind her ear. "I haven't seen you around here." "The name's Ellen," I smiled. "Yours?" "Lacey," she smiled, her twinkling puppy brown eyes roaming around the room. She let her fingers go through her raven black, medium sized hair. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. I'll catch up with you sometime later after this mess." With that, she sprinted off, leaving me a tray full of alcoholic beverages. "Well, Ellen," I muttered to myself. "Time to do you job." To say that Mr. Burns' birthday party was a small one was an understatement. A real understatement. Politicians were here, along with different millionaires, billionaires, actors and actresses. It seems like the world's powerful and richest people were here under one roof, which made my job even more risky. Getting in wasn't hard. Make a good and legit looking ID, wear a waitress uniform, and look good for the part. Sure I had to go through a lot of security process, but I was convincing enough for them to let me through. I have to do this assassination stealthily, but with the people in the hotel? It's going to be a tough night, and it seems like the only logical time I can kill him. His penthouse? Guarded, not a lot of employees, but a handful carefully picked up by Mr. Burns himself. There's a lot of security, not to mention the fact that his penthouse is on the twenty-third floor. Workplace? No way. Anywhere else? Mr. Burns is a workaholic. He only takes a week off from work, and that's only around Thanksgiving, which was a month ago. He has no family (his wife died from an accident five years ago) and no kids. But what I do know is that he's staying in this hotel, and got himself the most expensive suite. And the main reason he did is probably because he's going to get shit-faced drunk. I wouldn't blame him. I would too on the year before I turn 50. Too bad he won't turn fifty, I thought to myself as I plastically smiled to the people around me , the drinks on my plate becoming less and less. I looked around, my eyes landed on Mr. Burns himself, holding a glass of wine, already a bit tipsy in result of alcohol. The couple in front of him, which I couldn't make out since their backs were on me, were talking to him, and he willingly conversed with them. Making my way through the dense crowd , I finally reached him, and he suddenly smiled when he saw me. "More drinks, sir?" I asked eagerly, smiling like a schoolgirl. "No, no thanks, I need to save some more later, " he said, waving his hand in front of him. "But, what about you lovely couple? I'm sure they'd want some." "Alright! Would you wa-" I stopped when I turned around to face this "lovely" couple. But, instead, my eyes landed on a familiar green ones. The girl, which was around 5'5, but 5'7 tonight because of the heels, around 130lbs, had the most beautiful, light brown wavy hair. Her full smiling lips was slowly turning into a confused frown. It was her. It was Charlie Carlson in the flesh, right in front of me. My heart stopped. Beside her was none other than James, his hair fuller and wavier too, his face sculpted in perfection. He was too busy to look at the "waitress," since his eyes were wandering around the place, which was coincidentally swarmed with beautiful actresses. But Charlie's eyes were beginning to go through my armor for tonight. They were wandering, looking for something in my eyes. Something in them , something...longing. I shook the thought out of my mind. Shit, I can't screw this up. Not tonight. Both of our eyes showed recognition. "Would you two want a drink?" I asked politely, hoping my quirky voice and my disguise are working. "Nah...no thanks," James answered immediately without looking at me. I blinked, and my eyes fell on Charlie's, hoping they won't give anything away. "I'll have some," Charlie answered. God, I had no idea how much I missed her voice. Subtly, I looked at her navy blue, expensive- looking dress. It fit her perfectly, the way it hugs her curves. She was more beautiful than any of the actresses here. "I should get goin-" "What's your name?" she asked curiously, sipping on her glass. But her eyes remained on me like a spotlight. "The name's Ellen," I replied, nodding at her like a good college kid would. "Sorry, usually we wear our name tags, but the boss think that it looks icky on us tonight. And you are...?" "Charlie," she smiled, flashing her white perfect teeth. "Charlie Carlson, but you probably don't know me compared to these other rich folks." "But you're here!" I chuckled as a tired-looking Mr. Burns walked away from us. "You probably make a thousand times more money than I do." Get out of there, Pamela, I thought to myself. But my body is somehow rejecting the thought. But the mission...Shit, I thought to myself. I need to put this sticky bug on Mr. Burns so I can track his every move. "You remind me so much of her," she said, her voice becoming distant. "I-I'm sorry, I mean... I used to have a friend that sort of...looks like you. And, well, she's gone." "Aww, I'm sorry to hear that!" I replied, but my heart was beating fast. "Did she, like, die?" Charlie flinched, and dropped her gaze from mine, shifting her weight to her other foot. "I mean, I guess you can say that," she muttered. I tried not looking at her for a few more seconds, but I dropped my gaze away from her either way. This isn't the time or the place, Pamela, I thought to myself. There never will be. Confusion and longing went through my head, as I continued standing there beside her. I missed her so much... I shook the thought away, my jaw firm. "I'll see you later, Ms. Carlson," I said, already walking away from her. "I-I'll see you..." she replied, but the crowd's never ending noise engulfed her voice. I cussed under my breath, as tears started to form. Remember, Pamela, I thought to myself. She shot you. Even though you had the bulletproof vest on. I put the plate on an empty table, as my mind fumed with undesired memories. You damn know what happened next, I thought to myself as I combed through my hair with my fingers. And do you know what started all these "Falling for her," I muttered angrily to myself, my eyes searching for Mr. Burns. I finally found him outside the balcony. Taking a breath, I walked to him, feeling the cold breeze of New York City. I put my hand in my pocket, feeling for the bug, as I walked nearer to him. He was looking up, staring at the stars and moon in a trance-like state. He took a deep breath, but never took his eyes off from the sky. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his hands in his pockets. "The night sky never ceases to amaze me." I went beside him, and looked up, nodding in agreement. "I agree." "Y'know, it's funny," he said suddenly without looking at me, "how life can twist your body in different directions. Testing your flexibility to the limit to see how far you can go until you...crack." I remained silent, but put my hand on his shoulder to show sympathy, and put the bug on him at the same time. "It's your birthday, Mr. Burns, "I replied. "You should be in there having the best night of your year." He looked down, his lips frowning. "I had my share of nights like these, but they were...something else." "And to tell you the truth, those were the nights I regretted having." I curiously looked at him, trying to understand his comments. "Regretted?" He solemnly nodded, and his eyes finally had the courage to look at mine. "Yes," he whispered, "regretted. Truly regretted." He turned his whole body to me, "You know, I believe what we do at the end, we pay the ultimate price for our regrets." Tell me about it, I thought glumly to myself. "And if I were to die tonight, I wish to die a peaceful and quick death as the price for my regrets." I blinked. Does he know? "Jeez, Mr. Burns," I said laughingly. "I doubt it if you die tonight, you're only forty-nine! You still-" "Cut the bullshit," he interrupted, his eyes glaring. "I'm not stupid, I know that whoever you are working for sent you to kill me. And you picked tonight to mark my death." I looked at him with a confused expression. What the fuck? "No, I don-" "It doesn't matter anyway," he sighed, shaking his head. "Unlike other people, I'm willing to pay my debts." He walked away slowly, his footsteps echoing through my head. "I'll see you later, my angel of death," he called out to me as he went back to his party. I turned my head, looking at the 49-years-old man faking his smile and laughs with his guests, knowing full well his death is coming nearer and nearer every second. I pursed my lips, and went back in the crowded room. I'll see you later, Mr. Burns. -------------------- A couple of hours later, the party was dying down and the guests started to disperse. I made sure that the hotel's database showed that the room I put my stuff in was occupied (just in case). I did what waitresses do best, which was to help clean up, but I managed to sneak out of the job. Sneaking a couple of food and a plate to put them on from the kitchen, I walked confidently to the elevator, passing by a couple of guards. I looked through my phone: it was 11:37pm, and Mr. Burns was already in his room. I clicked on the floor my room was on, and I patiently waited, until the elevator door opened. "Oh, hey!" I froze, my body wanting to sprint out of there. A drunk looking Charlie, with her hair messed up, her make up messy, stumbled her way in. "Wow, must be tiring, huh?" Charlie said, slurring her words a bit. "Working in this fancy hotel?" Great, a tipsy Charlie is what I needed right now. I smiled, and nodded. "Yea, it is. But it pays the bills." She laughed, letting her back rest lazily against the wall opposite from me. "So, 'Ellen' " she exaggerated my name," you know what I did just a couple of minutes ago?" "Umm, I don't really want to-" "I fucked Mr. James Mosby, aka my so-called-boyfriend," she giggled as she leaned over, putting a hand on my stomach. I flinched, gritting my teeth. "Tha-that's great, Ms. Carlson," I replied, trying to hide my rising anger. I wiped her hand off, and repeatedly pressed the 38th floor button. "All hot and sweaty, steaming sexxxxx..." she cooed, trying to walk in front of me. "I mean, his cock was huge and everything, and I got so fucking hor-" The door opened, and I immediately walked away, as I felt my blood boiling. Instead I felt something else. I felt Charlie's hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to her. "Ms. Carlson, you're drunk-" "Do you know how painful it is to look at you?" she said shakily, pulling my jacket. I shooed her hand off me, and walked away again. "You look so much like her!" she called out, as she stumbled out from the elevator. "Different hair, different name, different everything, but I know those eyes anywhere and they were hers!" I pulled out my key, my room was only a couple of rooms down the hallway. "Th-the woman I loved..." The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 I tried to block her voice. But I couldn't. "The-the one th-that tried to protect me..." her voice became distant, I could hear her crying. A man with a black suit, which I suspected to be a guard, walked my way. "She's dead because o-of m-me," her voice was barely audible, but somehow, I heard it. "What's going on out here?" the guard's booming voice asked. "People are trying to sleep!" I opened my room, but stopped to look at Charlie, her body leaning to a wall, her forehead pressed against it. She was sobbing. Part of me wanted to rush over to her, kiss her, and hug her without end. I put my hand over my heart. "That woman over there is drunk," I told the guard. "Please assist her, I don't want anyone taking advantage of her." Then, I slowly went into my room. Then again, the other part of me knew better. ----------------- It was 1:30 am, but I was already suited up around 12:45 am. During the time gap, I sat on the bed, looking at my gun. My thoughts were anything, but on the mission. To be specific, I was thinking about Charlie once again. "It's time to go to work, Pamela, "I muttered to myself. Sighing, I got my phone out, and put my hacking skills to the test. I made sure the cameras malfunctioned, and the power system was "broke." But only for five minutes. Before I did anything, I got my bag which was full of my previous clothing, and threw it out from the window. I went to the door, and listened. No one was walking in the hallways. I let out a long ragged breath, and pushed the "confirmed" button in my cell. The powers went out, and I flipped my night goggles on. Swiftly, I opened the door, closing it quietly behind me as I sprinted quietly like a cat to the stairway. I could hear the people in the rooms walking around. Panting, I sprinted up of the stairs, going to the 41st floor, which was where Mr. Burns' room was located. Then, I heard a door slammed open, and I stopped when I saw beams of light running along the walls. Grunting silently, I jumped over the stair's rails, flipped my body around and grabbed the edge of a stair, my body dangling. Good to have my muscles back, I thought to myself. "Anyone find out why the fucking power went out?" a man's voice said from above, as more footsteps becoming nearer and nearer to me. "No, sir, but I'm sure it's just a glitch in the system." "Well, whatever it is," the man said, his voice directly above me, "we have to make sure it gets fixed ASAP, otherwise there'll be a lot of rich folks tailing our asses." Multiple footsteps scurried in front of me, as I held my breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the stair. Quickly, I pulled myself up, feeling my muscles in my body tighten. I continued sprinting up the stairs, as Father Time ticks the night away. Finally, I was on the 41st floor. I leaned against a wall, looking to see if there were people in the hallways, letting my heart still to hear better. I tip-toed silently to his room, my hand on my silenced gun, my eyes glaring through the goggles. And there, I was in front of his door. Easily, I opened the door (all the doors were opened since the power is out) and I made way to Mr. Burns' bed. The power should be on in around fifteen seconds. Perfect. I've never rented a suite for myself since it brings attention. People will assume you're rich, you're famous etc. A regular room is good enough for me. But Mr. Burns' room takes fancy to another level. It's more spacious and heavy decorated than any of the rooms here. I went to his bedroom, and saw a peaceful, sleeping Mr. Burns on the bed. I pulled out my gun, but then stopped as I remembered what Mr. Burns said to me. Peace and quiet death, I thought to myself. Is there such thing? Either way, I have the gun on my hand, slowly pointing it straight to his temple. Can't be more peaceful than this, I thought to myself and pulled the trigger. ---------------- After putting the same gun that killed him in his hand, I sat on the armchair, getting my other gun out. Feeling comfortable, I let out one ragged breath, which didn't really help since I still had my mask on. "Welcome back, Seventy-six," I muttered to myself, staring at the gun. I should really get going, I thought. Room service will be here in five hours, and an unfortunate maid will find his dead body in his bedroom. Sighing, I stood up, holstered my gun back, and went to the window, slowly opening it. Then, I heard an explosion and the electricity went off. The building rumbled, vibration on the floor I was stepping on. I whipped my head around and tried to make sense of it all. What the-? My phone started vibrating in my pocket, and I hurriedly answered it, "Hello?" "Pamela! It's Carrie, something happened-" Another explosion, I can hear people screaming outside the door. "Listen to me carefully! You have to go to room 1258 there are other agents there-" "What the fuck is going on!?" "Help them in anyway poss-" "I don't give a fuck! This isn't my fight!" "Help them and I'll give you the recent city Marco was seen in!" My world crumbled. Marco. Marco, Marco, Marco... "That," I hissed angrily, "is a solemn promise that I will dearly hold against you if broken." "Mr. Burns!" a guard yelled outside, banging on the door. "We have to get out! Mr. Burns!" The door swung open, beams of flashlight roamed the room. And I was out in the open, and better yet, I was visible. "Freeze!" Bullets went flying everywhere, as I automatically crouched down. I turned off my phone, putting it in its righteous place. Room 1258? That's only two floors down, if my memory is correct. I hear more guards coming in, their heavy feet rumbled through my ears. I let my eyes wander through the night goggles, trying to come up with a plan. And it landed on the armchair, and I happened to have my grappling rope and hooks with me. But the hooks were no where to be found. I went over to the armchair, and tied the rope around one of it's legs. What have you gotten yourself into this time, I screamed to myself in my head. Grunting, I stood up, and sprinted to the window. "Move, move, move!" the man bellowed to the guards as he shots multiple bullets in my direction. Panting, I pulled out my gun, fired at the window, and let myself crash into it. Seconds later, I was airborne in the air, my arms crossed on the chest. Let this work, I thought to myself, feeling the cold night throughout my body. Then, I began to fall, feeling myself being swung over. Before I know it, my body crashed into another window, sending me in another room. Groaning, I was flat down on my stomach, extremely disoriented. Breathing heavily, I crawled myself to get away from the window, only to find out I was being dragged down again. Fuck, the chair must've fallen down! My hands tried to grab on to anything, including the carpeted floor, but it was no use. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I muttered in panic, as I was nearing by the edge. I desperately tried to feel for my knife, but the rope around me was tight around my waist, and I was going down fast. My heart was beating fast, my ears ringing. It feels like my body was ready to burst. I feel my legs beginning to dangle over the edge as my upper torso tried its best to hold its ground. Then, a couple of hands grabbed my arms, pulling me back into the room. With a soft click, one hand cut the rope from my waist with a knife. Shaking, I looked up, and saw two...agents? They had similar gear like me, with their night goggles over their eyes. Slowly, I began to stand up as each of them grabbed my arm, assisting me. "Agent Seventy-six?" a feminine voice asked. "Are you Agent Seventy-six?" "Yes," I answered as I got out from their grips. "I'm Agent Seventy-six." "It's good to finally meet you, ma'am," an excited masculine voice said. "I've heard so-" "We have a situation, Seventy-six," the female interrupted. "We needed to extract a person of interest that may be an asset to the Agency." I silently groaned. Why was this happening to me, I thought to myself. "And where is this person?" I asked as I crouched down to retrieve my gun. "In the next room," the man interjected. "Come on, we have to move fast!" Grunting, we sprinted to the next room, our guns pointed and ready. We didn't run into any trouble in the hallway, but there were more bombings, and screaming from levels below. Dusts were flying everywhere, the walls trembling. "Mind telling me what's going on?" I whispered as we stopped near a door. Room 1258, I thought to myself as I saw the room number. "We'll explain later," the female said, opening the door, letting her and her partner slip in. Gritting my teeth, I followed them after letting my eyes wander around the hallways once more. "It's okay," I heard the male agent whisper as I scanned the room. "Everything will be okay." The fuck it is, I thought to myself, letting my hand rest by my side. Alright, Pamela, let's just get this all straightened out. Get this whatever-person out of here, take them where they need to go, and you'll be finished. Easy as that. But these agents must be amateurs. The way they move, and the fact that there are two of them to do this single mission screams amateurs. "What am I," I muttered angrily under my breath, "their babysitter?" Then, I heard something faint coming nearer the hotel something...whirling. I went to the window, and looked up. "Helicopter," I breathed as I saw the single helicopter flying higher to the top of the hotel. "Do we have an extraction plan?" "That is our extraction," the male agent replied, looking up. "Our mission was interrupted by an unknown professional group of people. I say professional because somehow, they knew what we were coming for." "And what exactly are you guys doing here?" "Extraction of one particular individual," the female agent said bluntly. "It was suppose to be an easy, get-them-and-go mission. We were contacted only four hours ago from the Agency, claiming that an emergency has come up, assigned us to get this person of interest, and to relocate them." "Where?" "Somewhere in the wilds of Canada." "Huh," I said, nodding to her. "I see..." "I'm sorry about this, Seventy-six," the female agent suddenly said. "It's just...we never thought we would run into problems like this. Everything was going smoothly, until we heard the bombings and gun fires. We panicked and called for back up-" "Do you have a clue on who these people are?" I asked, not bothering to look at her since my eyes were glued to the window. "These...'professionals' that decided to go Rambo in a very public building?" "No," she answered, "and we have an idea on why. We're just starting out, ma'am. And this is only our third mission so far." I turned my head, putting my night goggles up. I blinked a couple of times, and was relieved that my contact fell out. I hated that thing. "The other agent, is he your partner?" "Yes." "That's odd," I muttered as I reloaded my gun. "I never had a partner before, even when I was just a starter." "Then you're just too good, ma'am," she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "The individual in the bedroom is asking questions, and I don't know what I should reveal." "Don't tell them anything," I shrugged. "It's not our job or do we have the position to tell them the details." "We didn't tell them anything," she agreed, "but they're getting on my nerves. I had to come out here to get a bit of air." I chuckled, and still had my eyes glued onto the window. It started to snow; little bits of heavenly white flurries fluttering around and about. Then, a loud explosion. The floor under our feet rattled. It sounded like the explosion occurred in the next room. Simultaneously, a helicopter swooshed by the window beside us, and I had only a few seconds to react. "We have to go!" the male agent in the next room yelled. "I'll grab the person, you guys get ready!" Papers and such flew around as the overwhelming wind took over the room. I looked over to the side and realized that the wall was gone, and was replaced by a helicopter that was piloted by the male agent, airborne and waiting for us to get on. The other male agent carried a person over his shoulder, a bag was over their head, while the female agent signaled us to be beside the door. "We have to jump!" the female agent replied, her hand on the door. "I'll go first!" With that, she sprinted with all her might, and jumped, soaring through the sky with the small body she has. "Move in! Move in!" the voices outside the door yelled, sending another increase of heartbeats my heart can take. Can this night ever end, I thought to myself. "Seventy-six!" the female agent yelled, getting her gun out. "We need to go, now!" I whipped my head to the male agent, feeling the blood in my body boiling from the overwhelming adrenaline rushing through me. Large bumps and clashes crashed through my ear, when I finally realized that the guards outside are trying to crash their way in. "Can you do it!?" I yelled over the noise. "Can you jump with that much of weight on you!?" "You underestimate me, ma'am," he replied, crouching, and ready to sprint. I can feel his grin. Shaking, I nodded, ripping my gaze on him and sprinted to the helicopter, while at that time, the door opened violently. I got my gun out, and started shooting at the guards that were flooding in like army ants. At the corner of my eye, I saw the agent sprinting too. "Let's go," I muttered angrily to myself, sprinting to the helicopter, turning around here and there to shoot. It seemed that every time I get into situations like this, Father Time gives me the mercy to stop time. My erratic breathing becomes slower, and the dust around me danced as though they are snowflakes, gracefully shimmering down to earth. One step...next step... The bones of my legs absorbed the impact I'm putting them through, the blood in my veins flowing in every space of my body. In these moments, it's when I truly feel alive. The rush, the power, everything. But it's also when I know that death was near. "Jump!" the agent yelled, shooting at the guards, as the agent behind me screamed in anticipation. "Shoot her! Shoot her, she's getting away!" the guard behind me spat. The sound of bullets swooshing pass me, as I was nearing the edge. I held my breath, pushing my knowledge about the laws of physics, and let emptiness hover over me. And jumped. I was there, airborne, eager to get in the helicopter. Then, my body failed, and my body screamed in pain. "Ahh-!" A bullet went pass my thigh, chipping away my flesh. "Seventy-six!" I heard the agent shriek. With all my might, I reached for the helicopter's skids. I desperately hugged it, as I see my gun and night goggles take part in gravity's own pleasure. "Go go go!" I yelled on top of my lungs, as I fearfully saw the guards rushing to the edge. The helicopter gave a big tug, and moved away from the building, as I carefully tried pulling myself up. Two pairs of hands reached out for me. Puffing, the wind against my face, I grabbed one of them, and both helped me pull me up. "Easy there!" the female agent screamed. "Are you shot!?" The male agent took his mask off, and inhaled a mouthful of air, sitting tiredly on the seat. The individual was next to him, unmoving, head laying comfortably across the seat. It was if they were asleep. I couldn't breathe. Immediately, I pulled my mask off, breathing in and out fast. "Give me your belt," I ordered the female agent. "Belt! Now!" Her head whipped around to me, and immediately got her belt out, her body panicked. She handed it to me, as I used my mask as a sponge, putting pressure on the wound with it. I hissed. "You guys better have a plan," I growled Through numerous explanations about the mission, I sat as patiently as I can, ignoring the pain I felt on my leg. What they were saying were consistent: two agents, one easy mission. Get the person of interest, extraction from a helicopter, then relocation. The reason for the relocation was a little vague, with the reasons along of "protection." "But why?" I asked patiently. "Why the protection?" The agent sat in front of me, and took her mask off. I blinked. It was Lacey, the waitress from before. "The Agency has their reasons," the male agent replied for her. "We just comply." I grinned, knowing full well what he meant. I looked over at him, and the person sleeping. They were rolled up in a blanket, their head covered with cloth. "We will land at our airport base in twenty minutes!" the pilot called out. "We transfer to a jet and leave!" The agents and I sat comfortably on the seats, and I felt the sandman tapping on my shoulder. I shrugged him away, and decided to go to the cock pit, have a little chat with our fellow pilot. I staggered my way in and sat down beside him, a well built man with a brown beard. I strapped the seat belt across my body, and nodded towards the pilot. He nodded back. "Agent Seventy-Six," he replied. "Good to see that you are is still up and about." I smiled, looking at the lands below. It's good to be back, I thought to myself. He and I exchanged our history together, and found out he was a pilot in some of my missions, some of which was when I was eighteen at that time. From the missions from Texas, all the way from Moscow, he was the pilot. I asked him what his name and age were. "Just call me Joe. Whether or not that's my real name makes no difference of what I do. As for my age...let's just say age does bring you wisdom throughout the years," he chuckled at his own remark. "We're here. Getting ready to land." And with that, the helicopter began to descend. "It's good to know an old friend is here beside me," I grunted, looking at my bloodied thigh," even though I hardly knew you existed." He roared in laughter, as the helicopter slowly landed on the landing pad. On the pad was a single transport, which was with a bigger, and more sturdy one: the Chinook helicopter. What a beauty, I thought to myself. ------------------- As soon as we landed, six heavily geared ran towards us, waiting for us to come out. "Rock and roll!" the male agent called out, as couple of hands pounded on the door. Sighing, I unbuckled the seat belt, and stood up. "I feel like this won't be the last time I'll be in the air with you, Joe?" "That be right, my lass," he chuckled, nodding at my way as I walked at the back of the helicopter. The door was open, and the first thing I noticed was the coldness that flowed through us. The person of interest was in the hands of the male agent, who hugged it like it was a priceless jewel. The female agent grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. "There's not much time, I'm afraid," she explained, her brown eyes looking back at me, her hands both soft and firm. "We'll have our briefing once we are inside the Chinook. And I'm sure someone inside there will look at your cut." I nodded, limping my way out, hand-in-hand with this mysterious agent, whom I only known in less than twenty-four hours. The six agents, masked and heavily armed, stood outside, waiting for us. They stood erect as soon as they saw us, and one tall man walked towards us. He saluted us. "Agent forty-nine, at your service, agent seventy-six," his voice was low and dangerous. "Me and these other men are at your command. You say we jump, we jump high! What say you, agents of the Agency!?" "Whoo-ha!" they cheered. I froze on the spot. What is-? "There must be a mistake," I said, pulling my hand back from the agent's grasp. "This is not my mission, and I am not in command." "There is no mistake, ma'am," agent forty-nine replied confidently. "Our orders were clear. We respond to you, and to you only." The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 "By the orders of the Agency?" I asked in confusion. "Who contacted you specifically?" "By a woman named Carrie," he replied without hesitation. I growled, feeling my blood boil. What is that woman not telling me? Without haste, I walked towards the Chinook helicopter, feeling the helicopter behind us lift off. My body shook from its unpreparedness from this cold environment. "We will talk inside!" I shouted, turning my head as we walked forth. "But for now, we must leave to...wherever our destination is at." ------------------- The Boeing CH-47 Chinook is a feast for us agents: big enough to carry many weapons and ammos, on-ground transportation, gears, and, of course, many agents. The Agency modified it, made it more bigger than common ones. It was a whole new, spacious world inside, that can fit as many as seven cars in the anterior. It must've been very expensive, but anything is possible with the Agency. Once inside, a medical doctor cleanly sewed me up. "So early in the mission, yet you got yourself hurt?" the motherly doctor said in a british accent. "I can't control the guys shooting at me," I replied, getting off from the table. "This won't affect me in any way, will it?" "No I hardly doubt it would," she replied, her wise green eyes looking knowingly at me. "Just a little wound, but I am sure your pain threshold is quite...high, given your past history." I froze. "I should go back, thank you, Doctor Philips." With that, I walked forward, near the cockpit where most of the agents were. The bulky agent, with the person in his arms, walked towards me, and nodded as we passed each other. Frowning, my curiosity peaked on who this person was, with nine heavily guarded men and women around them. Must be one important son-of-a-bitch, I thought to myself. But sooner or later, I will find out who you are and why I'm risking my life over you. In parallel, the agents sat patiently as the engine roared. I didn't know that the copter already ascended in the air, until I looked out from the window. "Seventy-six?" Agent forty-nine, without his mask, stood up and walked towards me with a big bag over his shoulder. I smiled faintly, as his face reminded me of a young Samuel Jackson. He grabbed the black duffel bag and threw it at me, which I caught with grace. "Gear up," he said, "all weapons are in that room at the right. All the gadgets that you need are in that bag too." I nodded, and walked to the room labeled as the restroom. As I switched on the light, I looked at myself in the mirror: my brown and blue eyes, that hard white face, and my brown highlighted short hair. Shaking my head, I began to undress. "Just what did I get myself into?" I muttered to myself. ----------------- "Alright, agents of the Agency," I bellowed with my mask and full gear on. I stood before then, tall and proud, as a leader. It felt great to feel the weight of my weapons. Their eyes burned through me, as they waited for me to continue. "In less than twenty-four hours, I assisted two fortunate agents right after I finished my mission. We have been shot at, and chased at, yet I do not know the full story of this mission. Your mission, which, apparently, became mine as well. Agent forty-nine, please brief us." Clearing his throat, he stood up from where he sat, his muscled body under the white and gray camouflage hardened. The only visible things were his eyes, and above it were his night goggles. "Our mission is simple, yet at the same time complex, depending on how you view it. We relocate a significant person of interest, which is a high profile priority to the Agency. We relocate them somewhere safe, and isolated. If you are wondering why it's so white and gloomy outside, then this I tell you: welcome to the wilds of Canada. I hope you don't mind the cold." Most of the agents chuckled. "We guard this person with our life. No matter what, no harm, not a single plucked from their head without consent, is to be done." "What was the reason for the relocation?" I asked impatiently. "We don't know," he replied. "But I assume that they are in danger. This is not our first relocation assignment, but commonly the reason for such thing is protection. Either from a mob husband, a mob wife, a famous world criminal, and whatnot." I nodded. "And I see we are well equip. For how long will this person need our protection?" "As long as they need." "Alright, let's discuss equipments. The blueprint of the building we are staying. Your profiles. Any-" "The person of interest is awake," agent forty-nine suddenly said. "They're behind you. And, well..." he whistled. I growled, arms crossed on my chest. "Best you give the warm, welcome message extravaganza," I grumbled to him, not giving the effort to turn around. "We will land soon, and I want to talk to the agents before we do. Please do not scare them. Go." He nodded, and walked past me. "As I said, I want the blueprint of the building or house we will be staying. The map of the whole area also. Any transportation out there?" "Snowmobiles, at least five with equipped weaponry attached. And three rally fighters, tires appropriate to such Canadian roads." "Any towns nearby?" "No," one of the agents answered. "We are too far from any towns and cities. That's why we are carrying as much cargo as we can. Including food and water." "Is the building habitable? Will it have heat, for both our sakes?" "Yes, complete electricity, heaters, everything. But no fireplace. The smoke might give us away." "Right, well let's-" I felt a small hand on top of my shoulder. I was about to turn around, until I heard the person behind me talk. "Thank you," a familiar feminine voice behind me suddenly said. "Whoever you are, thank you. I might've not made it through the night without you and your agents. I'm sorry, but this agent beside me did not give out your name. What is it, agent-?" Cautiously, I turned my head, and goosebumps rose from my skin as a saw a ghost from my past. Those green eyes, light brown hair, those kissable lips, and that oval, perfect face. It was her. It was Charlie Carlson yet again. Her body was covered with a long, bulky coat, her face tired, hair messy. She was bundled up. At the corner of my eye, I saw agent forty-nine by my side. Immediately, I pushed him against the wall, my hand on his chest. I looked up to him with urgency. "Did you tell her my name? My number?" I hissed. He shook his head, and patiently said," no. She did not give me the chance to do so. Why?" I took a step back as anger rose from within. "Tell everyone else, no, that I order them not to give out my name to her, or any, and I repeat, a-n-y information about the famous agent seventy-six. Do you understand, agent forty-nine?" He nodded obediently, then walked away like nothing happened. I turned around again, and saw her standing awkwardly in front of the agents, who were talking among themselves. Carrie, I thought angrily to myself, you have got some nerves to do this to me. Behind her staggered the male agent. He waved at me, and put his hand at the back of Charlie's, guiding her to sit. They both did, next to agent forty-nine, whose eyes looked curiously at mine. I walked back in front of them, my confidence slightly lower than before now that I knew who this "person-of-interest" was to the Agency. I cleared my throat, hoping my voice did not give myself away. Just to make sure, perhaps I can make it a little lower. "Now then," I said lowly," just stay put. Any more information will be discussed later. Soon enough, this copter should land without any problems. Any questions?" I looked around my fellow men and women, but no one asked. As soon as my eyes landed on Charlie, hers sparked through mine like lightning. It was hard for me to pull my gaze away. "Be ready for anything," I warned, as I walked back towards the backroom. As soon as she wasn't in sight, I put my back against the wall and sighed. Doctor Philips looked questionably at me, but I ignored her. I can do this, I thought to myself. She doesn't need to know I'm here. I can do this. Perhaps it's for the best. -------------------- I felt the copter descending forty-five minutes later, with a bit of turbulence here and there. It was snowing hard outside as soon as I looked out from the window. Everything was white. Every agent was packing, getting all the supplies that we needed into the snowmobiles and cars. I grabbed a couple of extra ammo for myself, a few smoke bombs and grenades also didn't hurt. From the looks of it, it was if we were deployed for war with all the heavy ammos and gear. Is this what every relocation assignment was like? Or is it just because of Charlie? "If you are wondering," agent forty-nine suddenly said behind me," this is no ordinary assignment. We don't know who that woman is, but she takes protection to a whole new level, because we only had three guys in every relocation assignment we had, with maybe a quarter of the equipment here." "Damn," I muttered, crossing my arms in front, my eyes looking at the lonely woman chatting to the male agent beside her. "I really intend on finding out what makes her important." The copter rocked. "Everyone! Get on the snowmobiles! The girl will be in one of the rally fighters, while two trucks will be loaded with the supplies we need. Everyone else, get on the snowmobiles!" I saw Charlie being loaded into the rally fighter with two men, one was with the male agent from before. Once the back opened, I unconsciously made sure my two SC pistols were on each sides of my hips. I grabbed my SC-20K from my back, and welcomed its familiar presence into my arms. The sky was grey and the moon was nowhere to be seen. I sat behind an agent operating a snowmobile next to the truck. As soon as I was about to put my night goggles on, I made contact with Charlie once again. She looked curiously at me, then let her head rest on the agent's shoulder tiredly. Swiftly, I put the night goggles on, as we ventured through the snow. Coldness crept through my body. Then another unknown coldness crept through too. ----------------------- Perhaps twenty minutes later, we stumbled into a medium sized, two-story cabin. Woods surrounded it, and I was surprised we haven't encountered any animals yet. Two men and I went inside first, making sure no one occupied it or any traps were placed. I held my SC-20K up, then slowly put it down. "Scan the place up," I muttered," make sure there are no bugs or cameras. Go." As he scurried away, I whistled, more men went in. Regardless of the coldness, the place was decorated and had numerous furniture. "Agent forty-nine," I muttered, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Grab two more men, and get the remaining supplies from the copter. Go." Charlie, and the male agent stepped in, gun in hand. She looked around, unsure of what to do. "Get some heat in here," I ordered the men. "I assume that the electricity here is limited, so please use it with care. You, you, and you, circle the premises. You,"I pointed to the male agent," and Charlie, and your partner will stay here. I will also circle the premises." With that, I scurried my way out. Minutes later, the agents and I covered ground fully, making sure that nothing will get passed us. One of the agents put up thermocameras everywhere, while others camouflaged the snowmobiles. Agent forty-nine came with the second batches of supplies, then camouflaged the rally fighters as well. I ordered five men to stand guard outside, while four remained inside. I was the one inside. Sighing, I sat down on one of the couches, painfully rubbing my wounded thigh. "Busy night?" a voice suddenly rang out. The interior was dimly lit, and the windows were shut. No light can come in. I looked over and saw Charlie sitting down in front of me, her gray coat snuggled comfortably around her. I nodded. "I can see that, with you all running around and about. I feel like you all need a raise." A smile slithered across my lips, as my eyes looked at her. "You know," she suddenly said," I knew there was something different about you..." I frowned," what do you mean?" "It's your eyes," she smiled. "Even under these dim lights, you have both brown and blue eyes. Heterochromia. Very rare, not to mention beautiful." A blush began to creep from my face, and my smile turned into a small smirk. She laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry, I just needed to make the atmosphere light around here. It's hard to believe I'll be spending my days with all of you," she said sadly, putting strands of hair behind her ear. "Besides, everyone seems friendly, given the circumstances. Especially you, agent X." I looked up and looked at her questionably," Agent X?" "Well I was going to name you Agent Unknown, but Agent X seems easy enough to remember. You're the only agent that hasn't given their name." "Agent X seems appropriate, thanks," I replied with a hint of bitterness. "It's funny because your voice is very familiar to me," she said, sitting comfortably on her chair, her eyes sparkled. "It's not like we haven't met or anything...I would've remembered those eyes. But your voice is something else." I frowned at her, slightly sighing. My voice is something else huh, I thought to myself. "My voice...is just another voice among the agents, ma'am." I looked behind her and found agent forty-nine motioning me to come outside. Pursing my lips together, I stood up and started to walk towards him, until Charlie's hand grabbed mine. Stopping, I looked down. She didn't look up, but stared at where I was sitting. "Before...you called me Charlie." I cleared my throat," that's right. That is your name, right?" She nodded, "It's funny because...every agent here has called me 'ma'am.' Never once have they called me by that name, because I didn't give it to them." She then looked up, like a predator that caught its prey. "Agent," agent forty-nine rang out," we have to talk." He stood by the doorway, his SC-20 in hand. After quietly saying my excuse me's to Charlie, I walked out from her presence with a hurry. She can still recognize my voice? The night sky was clearing, and the moon was showing its light, but the coldness hovered around us. In my estimation, I'd say it was around -5 degrees Celsius, but this wasn't the most extreme coldness I have encountered. Comparing to Russian winter, this weather was like spring. "What is it?" I asked, with agent forty-nine by my side. "Everything is in order, all supplies are in the house and stored away, but there is no word from the Agency. I tried contacting them," he replied, his boots making crunching noise as soon as he hit the ground. "The last word we ever got from them is relocation. Then I assume protection. Those two are a package deal from my experience." "This doesn't make any sense, we don't even know who we are protecting her from," I said harshly. Calm down, Pamela, I thought to myself. This is not the first time the Agency has become secretive. I took a deep breath. "Whatever. Regardless of what happen, I say we wait it out until we do get word. Until then, we do what we came here to do: guard the girl." ----------------- Two days have come by without word from the Agency. All of us took turns on who will stay outside and inside. Me, as their leader, can come and go, checking up on my agents in any time of day or night. I wandered around the kitchen, only to find Charlie and the male agent, once again, chatting, his face unmasked. They were eating a small breakfast, sitting next to each other at a table. I should call you James, I thought angrily to myself. Because you seem to flirt with pretty faces with every chance you get. I pushed my angry thoughts away, and decided to walk the other way, until I heard the agent's voice say "Hey! Agent X! Come join us why don't you?" Sighing, I walked back, sensing Charlie's eyes on me. She was in a comfortable black robe, her brown hair in a pony tail. Even though she had her own bedroom, it looked like she hasn't slept ever since we got here. She smiled faintly at me as I sat down in front of them. "Cozy I see?" I asked, looking at them both. Charlie blushed slightly, and the agent next to her just laughed. You guys go to hell, I thought to myself. Sighing, I took a cup of coffee, and stared at it. No way in hell am I going to eat in front of her. "We were just catching up," she replied, sipping her cup of coffee. "Of the do's and don't in my part. It sucks that there's no internet out here, but I can always keep myself company with a book on my lap." "I'm sure there are other ways to keep you entertained," the male agent said in a flirtatious voice, then laughed. He stopped laughing as soon as he caught my angry glare. "I should, um, roam around. Check to see if everything is okay," he suddenly said, standing up. As soon as he walked away, I shook my head, and saw Charlie chuckling under her breath. "It's nice to see agents like him being friendly," she suddenly said. "It makes me feel a bit more at ease." "I take it you don't like seeing agents with guns, all serious and anal-like?" I asked. "I guess every agent is different," she smiled faintly, her fingers gliding on the mug. "Can I ask you something, agent X?" "Sure, what is it?" I asked cautiously. She looked shy, almost timid. Tapping her finger against the table, she looked uncertainly at me. "You've been in this "Agency" for quite a while now right? You know the news and whatnots that goes around there?" "I'm sorry, but that's classified information-" "I don't care about that, it's just...have you heard of an agent named agent seventy-six?" My heart stopped, and the warmth from my body vanished. I looked down at her fingers, and asked in a steady voice, "that name seems familiar, yes. Why?" "Do you know...where she is now?" I shook my head immediately, my mouth dry. "No. I'm sorry." "The last time I saw her was..." she closed her eyes and let out a steady exhale. "That was two years ago. I just wondered, that's all." With that, she fell silent. Slowly, I looked up and decided to push her buttons. "Why do you ask? Did you know her before?" She shrugged, almost looking regretful of asking such a question. "She was assigned to me, some kind of protection mission. We were a little close, perhaps she even broke her code of conduct during those months with me." "With you?" "I mean, being assigned to me and all," she said in embarrassment, not meeting my eye. Silence filled the kitchen for a couple of seconds, until I asked her, "What do you mean a little close?" She stopped playing with her mug, and looked at me once again. "Please don't tell anyone, especially the Agency?" I nodded, then leaned forward. "We were, I don't know...more, but again, not more. I'm not sure what we were, it's complicated," she chuckled. "But I know she viewed me as more than an assignment, and I viewed her more than an agent." "What..."I cleared my throat. "What did you view her as?" "I want to say as my lover," she smiled sadly," but given the circumstances, I was already with James, my boyfriend." "That is quite complicated, ma'am," I mumbled as I unconsciously lifted my mask halfway and took a sip from the coffee. You really thought of me as a lover? "But you love this James person? Your boyfriend?" "To be honest...no," she laughed sadly, looking at the half empty mug. "I only went out with him to please my uncle, which is like a father to me. He's the only living relative I had left. And ever since he died last year from a car crash during a business trip, I guess I've grown attached to James. Emotionally attached. I don't know if you call it love or a coping mechanism, but he seems to take it as love. He even asked me to marry him." She held up her diamond ring. The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 "You said yes?" "I said yes," she softly said. "It just makes sense, we've been with each other for almost four years now. He's kind, supporting, and financially stable, not to mention handsome. I just don't see the big fuss about love and marriage...I see it as a more practical contract." What happened to you Charlie, I thought to myself. The Charlie I knew wouldn't say such a thing. I sipped from my mug. As soon as I put my mug down, Charlie's eyes fell on my lips, her mouth slightly opened. It seemed like her body was frozen in place. "Agent X," a feminine voice called out, interrupting our conversation. "You are needed upstairs. We have news." I pulled my mask down, and walked towards the female agent, guiding me upstairs. She led me into a spare room, where agent forty-nine, and one other agent were. "We received message from the Agency," agent forty-nine said." It seems like our location has been discovered." Impossible, I thought to myself. We were so careful! "Who?" "We don't know who these men are, but I assume they will risk every men they have to get their hands on her." Like hell they would! "Then we must be extra vigilant. We may have a lot of supplies for a little war, but who knows what those guys have. Spread the word quietly, but do not tell the girl. Go!" The agents nodded, and we all went downstairs. As soon as I walked past the kitchen, Charlie was still there, sitting peacefully in the kitchen. She had a weird look in her eyes as soon as she made contact with mine. ---------------- All of the agents scattered and covered grounds as quietly as they could. Stealth was in our blood. To our relief (and disappointment) we did not find anything out of the ordinary, but the skies became darker as more snow came down throughout the day. My body was covered with little bits of snow as I stayed in one spot two miles from the cabin for nine hours straight: my body covered with snow for added camouflage, gun in hand, night goggles in my eyes. My body did not move throughout those hours, while the moon emerged from east. Sighing, I looked at my watch: 22:00. Most of the agents already switched places two hours ago, but I refuse to go back. "Agent seventy-six," agent forty-nine rang into my ear piece," I know you're tough and all, but I'm squirming my ass off inside this cabin. I'm switching duties with you whether you like it or not. I'm going to your location. See you in the morning." I let out a slow breath, and started getting up, piles of snow slithered from my body. I slowly looked around me one more time, before sprinting towards the cabin. --------- As soon as I entered the cabin, I started shaking a little bit. Then a little bit more. "I see you have another busy night, agent X," a familiar feminine voice said from the living room. I looked over and saw Charlie on the couch in her usual robe, cuddled up with a blanket, with a book in her hand. There was an electric heater, and a lone lamp shone near her. The male agent was standing behind her, looking like her personal guard. "You've been gone for quite a while. From the looks of it, you deserve a hot bath." I smirked under my mask as I patted my body, whisking away the remaining snow on me. "Did you catch them?" "There was no one to catch," I replied, walking over to her and nodded towards the agent. He nodded back. Putting my hands on my hips, I observed her. She gave me one of her famous shy smile, her emerald eyes twinkling underneath the dim light. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I wish I can somehow repay all of you guys for going through hard work and all. A bunch of 'thank yous' doesn't seem suffice." "Well," I replied," I don't know about the other guys, but by keeping you alive, that's rewarding enough for me." She seemed to be taken aback from my remark, her chest heaved deeply. Pamela, I thought to myself. Be careful. But my body seemed to dissociate from my mind, as I began to go around the couch, and sat beside her with a little bit of distance. I grabbed my SC-20K from my back, and put it slowly in front of me, right on top of the wooden living room table. "Won't you ever tell me your name?" she suddenly asked, gliding her body towards my way. Her side touched my arm. "I already did," I blinked. "Agent X." "Well, Mikey here already gave me his," she called out, "why not you?" "Some of us has a very strict code of conduct" I said slightly growling, hoping 'Mikey' hear what I needed to say. "Sorry, agent X is the best I can do." "Is it?" "Yes." "Huh." A couple of seconds passed by, until she decided to read again. Sighing, and trying to get comfortable, I put the back of my head against the couch, trying to get a couple of minutes of shut eye, until I get to be back in duty again. Slowly, my weighted eyelids began to close, and the sandman took me in. ------------- As soon as I woke up, I felt a weight on my lap, and found a sleeping Charlie, her beautiful head on my lap. She mumbled, snuggling closer, her blanket covering all of her body. "She talks about agent seventy-six, you know," Mikey whispered behind me. "Whenever she gets the chance." "How long have I been out?" I asked, letting my fingers run through her brown hair. So soft, I thought to myself. James is lucky to have you. "Perhaps forty-five minutes," he replied. "How much did you tell her about seventy-six?" Mikey fell silent, and sighed. "Mostly everything, except of the current situation." "You son-of-a-bitch, amateur!" I hissed. "I've had it with you agent, do not make compromise this mission!" "I'm not," he replied back. "She asked, I don't see the harm. She doesn't know who seventy-six is." I tried to argue back, then paused. "You like her, don't you?" His silence answered my question. I looked down at her, feeling the warmness that radiates from her body. "Well...can't say I blame you." Slowly, I got out underneath her, then took her whole body into my arms. You've gotten so light, I thought to myself. Have you been eating well? I looked at Mikey, but he looked out from the window, waiting for anything to happen. But I felt him from where I stood, the same feeling I had with James. That scream of jealousy. "I'll be back," I whispered to him, which he only nodded in reply. With Charlie in my arms, I began to go upstairs towards the spare bedroom. The stairs creaked underneath me with each step I took. Whispers of "all clear," and "everything's good" rang into my ear piece. Opening the door slowly, I went in the room, tip-toeing towards the bed. The room was cold, I could see my breath. I put Charlie down lightly, wrapping the comforter around her to the point that all you can see was her head. I grabbed the electric heater from the corner, turned it on, and dragged it beside the bed. I sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for it to warm up. "Agent..." a faint whisper suddenly said beside me. I looked over and saw those beautiful green eyes once again. The heater in front of me was on full blast, nevertheless the warmness I felt was deep from within. A faint smile slithered from my lips, but I know what she can only see was a woman behind a mask. Slowly, she sat up, her robe revealing her glorious skin from underneath; she was only wearing a red tank top. Of all the clothes you could've worn, I thought to myself, why did you choose that? But it was breathtaking, the red fit perfectly with her fair skin. She reached out, and put her hand against my cheek. I flinched, and she withdrew. "I'm sorry, did I offend you?" My glare on her intensified, and slowly I closed them. I shook my head, and looked at her again. Please, Charlie, I thought to myself. Don't do this to me. There was a storm of thoughts in my head; it was if they were going through a war. She leaned forward, and boldly put her hand against my cheek once again. She put her forehead against mine, I can hear her ragged breath. Her other hand went to my other cheek, and she began caressing me. I got lost from her touches, then froze. I felt her wedding ring on her finger. Wait a minute, I thought to myself. Harshly, I withdrew and grabbed her hand. She lightly gasped from alarm. Closely, I observed her ring. Of course, I thought bitterly to myself. "Agent forty-nine," I radioed in, "get agent sixty-three to the kitchen, come with him too. Now!" Impatiently, I grabbed the ring from her finger, and stood up, while she looked at me in confusion. "I don't understand," she suddenly said. "What are you doing?" "Stay here," I growled, then radioed in Mikey. "Get in here now! And stay here till I tell you so!" I ran downstairs, and found agent forty-nine and sixty-three in the kitchen. Stomping my way to them, I threw the ring to agent sixty-three, which he caught. "Scan that piece of shit," I whispered. "I have a feeling that it's a tracker." I put my hands on my hips. Why was I too blind to see it? Agent seventy-three grabbed the scanner from his pocket, the ring on the palm of his hand. Hearing Mikey going upstairs, I went to the living room to retrieve my SC-20K. "It's a tracker alright," agent sixty-three boomed. "Small, yet durable." "Son of a bitch," agent forty-nine whispered under his breath. "They knew our location ever since day one." "I'm going out," I suddenly said. "At this rate, we are sitting ducks under the stares of hunters." "I'll go with you," agent forty-nine replied. "You need back-up, whether you like it or not." "Alright, get another agent to go with us. As for you," I stared at agent sixty-three." Decode that. I want to know where it came from. Got it?" He nodded, the scurried away. Agent forty-nine and I went outside as another agent rejoined us. "Have three guards go south, east, and west. I will go north, you will scatter. Go!" We began sprinting with our night goggles on our eyes, avoiding every obstacles, branches and stones with every step we took. With our SC-20K in our hands, we sprinted with all our might. "Only three miles out," I radioed in, panting. "No more, no less." In the dead of night, the stars were hidden underneath the dark clouds. More snow started falling. Remember who you are, I thought to myself. Remember how you were trained to be, brought up to be. Yes. Remember what you are capable of, Pamela. You are capable to kill. Three miles in, I stopped behind a tree, waiting for anything to happen. Then, I saw a vehicle coming my way. One single vehicle, then more behind it. "They're in my position," I radioed in. "Tell me your status." "Nothing from the South, ma'am." "Neither from the east." "Nothing from the west." "Ma'am," agent forty-nine said through the earpiece. "They're all coming from the North." A small growl erupted from my throat as my grasp around the rifle hardened. "Agents," I whispered," you better sprint fast to my location. Because you all are going to miss one hell of a party." With that, I crouched down, my eyes towards my first target: their rally fighter, front and center. Smirking, I grabbed a grenade from my pouch, and disarmed it. Hiding behind a tree, I threw it, then waited a couple of seconds until I heard the fireworks. Screams of confusion rang in my ear. I grabbed two more grenade and threw it to the other rally fighters. Work fast, I thought. Work fast, work fast, work fast. My eyes scanned and found at least thirty men looking around, trying to find the source of the chaos, but failing miserably. I grabbed two smoke bombs, then exhaled slowly as my head rested behind a tree. One... Two... I gave a small grunt as I threw two smoke grenades towards the men, then switched my goggles into thermal imaging mode. The men were shouting, shooting at ghosts, while I knew exactly where they were based from their body head. I put my SC-20K in silence, while letting my left hand get my SC-pistol. Crouching, I began shooting in each direction, as I sprinted from one tree to the next for cover. Some of the men found my location and started shooting aimlessly, doing more harm than done under the cloud of smoke. One by one, each of the unknown soldiers went down like a sack of lifeless potatoes. "There!" Inhaling, I sprinted behind a tree before more soldiers began shooting near me. I shot at them, reloading as much as I can. "Agent forty-nine, near you ma'am!" the voice radioed in my earpiece. I looked at the cloud of smoke beginning to whither away. Well there goes my cover, I thought bitterly to myself. More shouts rang in the field of snow as more gunshots echoed throughout the air. For minutes there, with forty-nine by my side, we were gods and goddesses of war, striking our enemy one by one. They were losing numbers fast by the hands of the Agency's finest. Panting, I counted their numbers; so far, only ten stood erect, fighting for their lives. As soon as I sprinted my way towards the enemy once again, preying on them, I was then knocked down on my back as full pressure of water splashed to me. I gasped, feeling the coldness, aimed my gun towards the man who held a hose, then pulled the trigger. Shivering, I got onto my knees, until at the corner of my eye, two men with a hose aimed at me. My SC-20K was long gone, but I aimed my SC pistol towards the head. "Ahhhh!" I screamed, as another splash of water crashed on my right side. I fell on my left; the water pressure was too much. More and more water drowned my body, my body weakening and shivering from the coldness. No, I thought to myself, I won't go down like this! With all my strength, I got onto my knees, then onto my feet. A man took a swing towards me, but blocked him, and punched him on the jaw. As he went down, I blocked another attack. When I turned, my body shivering its last warmth away, I looked deep down into a barrel of a gun. The man holding the gun, with his grey gear and ski mask, looked at me with anger. "You're coming with me-" Blood splashed onto my face as a wide hole appeared in the man's cranium. I whipped my head towards my right and saw forty-nine, limping his way towards me. Well, I'll be damned, I thought to myself. "You're quite a backup," I shivered violently. "Where's everyone else?" Before he could answer, he fell on his knees; I sprinted towards him with great difficulty. "What's wrong," I said, kneeling beside him on the snow, supporting him. "Are you-" My hand was smothered with blood, realizing that he was shot. Fuck! "We have to go," I told him, steadying his body. "We will walk to the cabin if we have to, but don't you dare-" "I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere," a masculine voice suddenly boomed. I froze, I knew that voice anywhere. Ever so slowly, I let my eyes gaze upon the man that I wanted dead. The man that made my torturous days in the underground prison possible. The man they called Marco. Beside him was another man, his gear same as the rest of the soldiers', but I knew that face. That face that I saw with Charlie, the one that cradled her, kissed her, and made love with her. James. Agent forty-nine's back was against them, and he couldn't see who these men were, but he knew from my facial expression that the situation just got worse. I felt a small sharp object wriggling its way into my sleeves; I felt it, it was a small knife. In my visual field, I saw agent forty-nine mouth out: strike. I grinded my teeth together. "Well, well, well," Marco suddenly said, his rifle in hand. "What a marvelous reunion! How long has it been, hmmm? Almost...three years?" "Hands up," James barked, his blue eyes like daggers. "You! Grab that agent, but leave seventy-six on her knees." He smirked. Shivering, I let my hands go up high in the sky, but the Canadian winter crept into my veins and arteries. Cold was an understatement. At that point, I was willing my body not to freeze to death. Marco laughed menacingly, his bearded face, and long hair embedded in my memory. His stone cold, grey eyes showed nothing but death, and they focused on me. "I'm surprised you're still alive, seventy-six." My gaze never left his. "I'm not easy to kill, as you can see," I replied, trying my best not to shiver. He squatted in front of me, observing my face as one of his men dragged forty-nine away, James pointing his rifle against the back of my head. "No, I don't believe that," he smirked, his dry lips crackling. "They took away something from you. I can see it in the depth of your eyes. It might not be something physical, no...something was taken." He stood up and began circling around me, strapping his rifle on his back. "Did you think it was a coincidence of me meeting you, seventy-six?" he bellowed, getting out his pistol. "Charlie, James? Have you even dug deeper into the life of your young...lover?" "What do you want?" I asked, glowering. "Don't you even want to know Charlie's dirty, little secret?" "What does it matter?" I sputtered. "Do what you must!" "Don't you know that I'm her father?" My body felt drained, my heart skipped a beat. Father? "Specifically speaking, I'm her biological father. Some unfortunate childless parents decided to take her in once she was born," he continued, looking up at the sky. "Her mother could not accept the fact that her own child would live in my world...a world filled with money, blood, and death." "Why are you telling me this?" Suddenly, a hand grabbed my mask and pulled it away. Scowling, I looked at him, my body screaming for warmth. "Because I knew the Agency was on my tail for quite some time now," he continued, standing in front of me. "I knew they wanted my head, and they'll go into extremes to catch me. Nevertheless, I underestimated the power of the hush-hush government owned organization. It was until you killed Alfonso that brought me into my senses." He spat at the ground at the mention of his dead brother. "I know at first, the Agency wanted to kill Charlie. For whatever reason, I don't know. Perhaps of our secret family ties. I knew for a fact, from an inside source, that you were the one to kill her...but as that assignment changed into a protection program, I knew I had you. I knew the Agency and I had the same mindset, you see. She was my bait, and you were my grand prize to claim; the famous agent seventy-six," he smirked. "It took some time to locate you, but I have eyes everywhere, you see. Money can get you anywhere, and can get you anyone to do something. Right, James?" You son of a bitch, I thought to myself as I looked at the man at the corner of my eyes. She trusted you! "James needed my help, financially I mean, and I needed his. It worked out perfectly. I did not know who this seventy-six was, nor what he or she looked liked. But I can always pay for information," he explained. "But as soon as James explained to me that a new friend came into Charlie's life...I knew. I felt it deep inside my gut, I knew it was you." "Call it a father's intuition, but I knew something was going on between you and my daughter even before we made contact. And from that moment on, I can finally take something from you what you took from me. My love for my brother, for your love of Charlie." He laughed. "You should've seen your face! You, kneeling there, Charlie with a gun in her hand, trying to choose which one to shoot. Somehow, I knew she'll shoot you, knowing that James doesn't have a bulletproof vest and you do. She doesn't have a choice. Emotionally...that must've fucked you up real good." He kicked me on my side, and I grunted, feeling the pain he brought. "You! Being tortured underneath that filthy prison!" He kicked me once again, my body absorbing its blow. "Knowing that in every waking hour in that shitty cell, you'll see her face. After every session with the Judge, it was her face that you saw. But you won't see her again. Do you know why?" The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 He kicked me again, and I fell into my back. I let out a ragged breath, as Marco's face of fury came into my view again. He looked down at me, his pistol against my forehead. "Killing you back then was too easy. I took the only thing that made you human, seventy-six. You've been training all your life not to feel pain and suffering, going through all those kills and drills, obeying every order the Agency gives out, yet you encountered something completely different with my daughter. That horrid little thing we call love for another human being...that's what I took." A tear rolled down my cheek as the barrel of his gun pressed down into my icy skin. Then, a flicker of movement was seen as I looked up to the trees. Few movements. My breathing slowed as I saw more and more movements in the pine trees. My chapped lips broke into a small smile. "A bit late, but we're here, ma'am," a voice whispered in my earpiece. Marco looked at me with confusion, not knowing that little by little, I have the small knife given from forty-nine in the palm of my hand. "Strike," I said gravely. Swiftly, I pulled the gun away from my head, as the knife went straight to Marco's neck. Agents from the Agency ambushed the soldiers as most hid from the trees. More gunshots occurred as the roar from the snowmobile's engine echoed. I looked straight into Marco's eyes as the depth of the knife went through him. I grabbed his pistol and pulled the knife out. He fell on his back and I quickly got onto my feet. Desperately, he tried putting pressure onto his wounded neck, but he couldn't save himself. His eyes widened as I pointed his own gun to his head. With no words, I pulled the trigger, and witnessed one of the world's greatest criminals die. No dramatic gasping sounds, nor pleas for mercy came out of his lips. He knew I wouldn't compromise. I looked around and saw the agents firing away towards the remaining soldiers. In disgust, I threw my weapon away towards Marco and sprinted towards my SC-20K; with my men and women, I fought with them side-by-side until the last gunshot killed the last man of Marco's. -------------------- "Someone patch him up please!" I growled, agent forty-nine's weight against mine as his arm went around my neck. The remaining agents and I got back to the cabin in less than forty-five minutes using the snowmobiles. The cabin was warm, and I shivered my way in. I can feel my hands and feet going blue. "Let me," a female agent called out, rushing to the wounded, half-dead agent. She ungloved herself and touched agent forty-nine's face. She then touched my face, and I flinched. "You guys are going into extreme temperatures here: he's way too hot, and you're way too cold." "Worry about him," I shivered, as she called two agents to help her. "I'll take care of myself, Lacey." "No, you don't understand, agent," she explained, her hands on my face. "You're way below normal body temperature. I don't care how much the Agency trained us for extreme weather, but our bodies have limits. Like yours, agent. Come on." She grabbed my hand, and led me upstairs. Shivering, I complied. Looking around, Charlie was no where to be found. Good, I thought to myself. She led me to the spare room, which was empty. Mikey was there by the closed window, looking at me in horror. "What the hell happened out there?" he asked in alarmed. Lacey pulled me in, grabbing my weapons and throwing them to the floor. "Nevermind that," Lacey replied, undressing me hurriedly. "Where's Charlie?" "She's in the bathroom and-do you think this is appropriate?" he asked, his eyes widened at my half naked body. "She needs body heat," she exclaimed, pulling the extra electric heater from the dark corner. "Two would be enough, one for each side of the bed. Now, please leave. I'm sure forty-nine might make a good use out of you downstairs. Go!" He nodded, and ran downstairs. In a hurried state, she turned on two of the heater, put them at each side of the bed, and put them in full blast. She stood in front of me, and suddenly pushed me down onto the bed, undressing my bottom half. "This is not what I had in mind when I decided to work alongside with you, agent," she muttered, untying my boots. Under her glare, I shivered, but I suddenly felt the warmth from the heaters. I cuddled deep into the bed's covers. To my surprise, it seemed like Lacey was about to get undressed as well. "No," I whispered, rubbing the side of my head against the warm pillow. "They need you more downstairs than in here. Leave me be." "Don't be absurd," Lacey said, shaking her raven colored hair. "You need body heat to-" "What's going on here?" a confused voice suddenly rang. My eyes sprang open. "You! Good timing," Lacey said in relief. "We're all girls here, right? Take of your clothes." "Excuse me?" Charlie voice exclaimed, offended. This can't be happening, I thought to myself. Leave me be! "She's freezing," Lacey hissed. "She needs body heat. Either you help her or she freezes. Now, out of the way, I'm needed downstairs." With that, she stormed off; I heard the door slam closed. I felt dizzy, and unimaginably colder than a couple of minutes ago. What is this, I thought to myself. Shivering, I hugged the comforter, trying to absorb the heat around me. I wasn't tired, but I felt my body becoming colder and colder by the minute. My heartbeat slowed. "Hang on, I'm coming," a concerned voice echoed. It was Charlie's voice. Am I dreaming? Looking at the corner of my eye, I saw her in her robe; underneath was her, wearing nothing but a bra, and underwear. My heartbeat fastened as she walked towards me and shivered as she pulled the comforter away from me. I grabbed onto it. I don't want you to see me like this, I thought faintly to myself. "I don't care if I see you like this, agent," she replied, pulling on the comforter with all her strength. "But if you don't get any body heat on you, you will die." Did I say that out loud? Suddenly, with only my bra and underwear, I was exposed. Half of my face was covered with my wet and sweaty hair, and I dared not to turn my head in order to face hers. In a fetal position, she turned my body, my back was against the bed. In the corner of my eye, she was straddling me, looking curiously down at my face. Swiftly, her warm skin made contact with my cold body. I'm not sure who shivered first. Then, her soft, full body covered mine, and I sighed in contentment. If I was to die at that moment...well, it was one hell of a goodbye gift. It has been a long time since her body was against mine. Given the circumstances, I wish our reunion was different than this current scenario. But I didn't want her to see my face. Marco's voice rang in my head, turning into a swarm of untamed animals inside a cage. Everything he said was right: in every waking hour in my prison cell, all I could think was her. Her face was everywhere. It was painful, yet served as a reminder that I will live to see the light one day. I didn't realize it was two years worth the wait. My breathing was shallow, and she took notice. She checked for my pulse, her finger on my neck. Boldly, she grabbed my chin, trying to make me face her. I tried to resist, but I was getting weaker by the second. I heard a gasp, her hand light shook against my chin. Blurry, the room around me started to spin, and my eyes became heavier and heavier. It was then I realized that I was spiraling towards sleep. The last sensation I felt before I closed my eyes was lips. One full, wet lips, kissing me at the side of my face, a pair of misty eyelashes against my cheek, a forehead against my temple. I felt like I was in heaven. It felt like home. ------------------------- I woke up with a startle, a couple of seconds of confused thoughts as my eyes scanned the dark room. Then, after feeling the heaviness against my chest, I relaxed. Strands of luscious brown hair covered my chest, soft breasts against my upper abdomen. I looked down and saw Charlie, sleeping soundly on my chest. Trying my best not to wake her, I tried squirming my way out from her grasp. "Not so fast," I heard her mumble. I froze, like a deer caught by headlights. Sighing, I sat up, feeling the warmness produced by the electric heaters. As I sat Indian-style, she slowly kneeled in front of me, looking at me like a long-lost familiar soul in a midst of a crowd. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Tell you what?" "That you were the one leading this mission," she answered, hurt. "I...couldn't," I sighed. "It'll just make it complicated." "Not really," she replied, her emerald eyes shining. "I had my speculations about you. Little hints here and there...I always thought it was you." "Really?" I said, surprised. And here I thought I was being careful. She nodded. "You really don't remember, do you?" Dumbly, I shook my head. Under the moonlight, she looked amused, but at the same time, breathlessly beautiful. I couldn't help, but wonder how she managed to still look beautiful in an isolated cabin, with agents surrounding her. She leaned towards me; she was on her fours, her hands supporting her weight. Her head went to my ear, and she whispered," 'By keeping you alive, that's rewarding enough for me.' You said that to me when I was in the dining room, and it was also what you said to me when I was alone with you, in my room, those years ago." My heart skipped a beat, as her face pulled back a little to the point that we were face-to-face; I could feel her breathing because her face was only an inch apart. Then, her eyes looked downwards, and I followed her gaze. Underneath the other untouched pillow, her hand was getting something. She pulled out a black cloth. Squinting at it, I tried to figure out what it was, until it hit me. It was my old balaclava. My eyes watered. "I kept it," she breathed, looking at me with longing. "In hoping that I can...I can meet you again. I-I know what happened during that time, with me and the gun, and James, I just can't live with the fact that-" "Shut up, Charlie," I whispered huskily, pulling the back of her head to me. I claimed those luscious lips of hers, kissing her hungrily and hard. She whimpered, I felt her long legs wrapping around my hips, her soft buttocks on my lap. When she pressed her entire body against mine, my body was the complete opposite compared from before: I was on fire. I grunted, feeling her breasts pushed against my chest, her hands roaming the back of my head, on my arms. Growling, I went for her neck, which took a great effect on her. I let my tongue glide on her fair skin, feeling her neck muscles swallow down any hint of shyness that she had in her bones; she snarled beside my ear. My god, it was sexy. I let my hands roam her back, feeling for her bra strap. Once I unhooked it, Charlie whimpered, and slightly leaned back. Her loving glare made me shiver. She grabbed one strap of her bra and slowly let it slide down her arm. She did the same to the other, the finally threw her bra towards the floor. I gulped, as I stared at her plump breasts; it wasn't big, but it wasn't small. For me, it was just right. As I was about to reach out and grab one, she shyly crossed her arms across her chest, locking away one the greatest treasures a woman posses. She looked at me uncertainly. "Pamela, I have to tell you something," she said timidly. "What is it?" I whispered as I leaned over and put kisses on her biceps. "I've never, you know..." "Never what?" "Never had...sex before," she confessed. I looked up, and saw embarrassment written all over her face. "Never...ever? I thought, you know...with James an all-" "We never did go beyond making out." "But you said, in the elevator in the hotel..." I trailed off. Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. She shook her head, and my body became hotter. "Charlie..." "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I know you were expecting something sophisticated but-" "Charlie, I love you and all, but again...shut up," I said again, pulling her closer to me. "You...love me?" I paused, then looked at her straight in the eye. Anyone can fall in love with you, Ms. Carlson, I thought to myself. Smiling, I leaned over and starting putting kisses on the hands that were cupping her breasts. "Yes," I whispered. "I can't deny it anymore, no matter how hard I try to run away from you. But, call it destiny, call it whatever, we're here again. I might not have another chance to tell you this... I love you, Charlie." Never in my life have I felt so naked, so vulnerable in the presence of another human being. But Charlie was not just a human being. She was something else. Slowly, she started loosening her grip until her breasts were open and free. I let my forehead rest against her sternum, then kissed where her heart was located. Shaking, she wrapped her arms around my head, which I took as a sign that I can continue on this journey with her. This is the point of no return, Pamela, I thought to myself. Are you willing to give a part of yourself to her? "Yessssss," I hissed, answering my own question. I took one of her nipples and claimed it, feeling its texture in my mouth. Sucking on it. I heard a gasp, hugging me even tighter to her. For a couple of minutes, I spoiled that part of herself, until I claimed the other nipple as well. Moments later, I realized something was moving back and fro on my lap. Her pelvis was rhythmically and slowly humping me, as if it was looking for relief. I heard her mumbling something incoherent as my hands lingeringly glided, squeezing, kneading her back. I kissed my way up, and let my lips laggardly explored her neck. It's funny how I can kill a man in this spot, and make love with a woman in the same location. "You make me so..." She sighed. It sounded like she was so far away. I looked up at her, and her eyes seemed to be in ecstasy. Smiling, I went to her, and kissed her, willing her to come back to me, simultaneously putting her on her back. With her legs still around my hips, she looked up at me, waiting. Wanting. I felt her; in that sea of her emerald eyes, she connected to the very depth of me. And I merely invited her in without hesitation. Her skin glistened with my saliva as I kissed my way down, then stopped on her stomach. She was breathing rapidly, her hands still on the back of my head, pushing me down to her desired destination. "Patience, Ms. Carlson," I whispered, letting my tongue dance on her stomach. Her body squirmed underneath me, her back arching. Her hands abandoned my head and gripped onto the bed sheet. I bit onto her skin playful. "Jeeesssuuuus..." she hissed, looking up towards the ceiling. "What are you doing to me?" "I could ask you the same question," I huskily said, then continued my way down; she whimpered, knowing I was getting nearer and nearer to her sex. I kneeled, and she growled from the lack of contact, but as soon as she felt me tugging on her panties, she eagerly helped me get them off. Intensely, she looked at me, her chest heaving up and down. Even under the moonlight, I saw a faint blush on her cheeks. Looking down at her, I let the palm of my hand glide on her calves, her quads, her entire length of her legs. Slowly, she opened them. An invitation that no one can decline. To say that she was wet was an understatement. She was soaking wet, glistening under my lustful stare. "My god, you are beautiful," I said in awe as I laid myself down onto my stomach. I kissed her inner thigh, feeling its warmness, feeling her body squirm some more. I looked up and saw her knuckles white as snow, her mouth biting down on the bed sheets. It was a sight that I could never forget. Curiously, I blew on her sex, and she groaned in lustful agony. Reaching out, I found her hand and grabbed in. She looked down at me, her pupils dilated. Feast, I thought to myself. Feast. I let the length of my tongue glide on her clit, and she gave out a mixture of both a whimper and a groan. She abandoned my hand and laid it on top of my head, pushing it towards her sex. No need, I thought to myself. I know where I need to go. I feasted on her for god knows how long. Boldly, I let a finger inside of her, feeling the tightness of her virgin pussy. She let out a loud groan; I was afraid someone was going to come up and check up on us. Another finger slid in, and she moaned. She tried to muffle herself using the bedsheets, but I could still hear her clearly. My tongue put more pressure, went faster than a train. I knew she was close. Then, she lifted her pelvis, and she gave out one long chain of whimpers. Her noise was music to my ears. With my fingers still inside of her, I kissed my way up, her body filled with sweat. "Hey you," I whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled, and her closed eyes opened. Then, her mouth turned into a pout, as my fingers inside of her pumped their way in harder and faster. Her eyes were half-closed, ready to cum. "No," I whispered. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you cum." She grunted, and looked at me square in the eye. Her hand was on top of my hip, the other one on my cheek. I let my forehead rest against hers. Then, I felt her body stiffen, the walls of her vagina grabbed onto my fingers. Fuck, you're so tight, I thought to myself. Moments later, she collapse back to the bed, looking exhausted. "God, you're so beautiful," I whispered as I kissed her on her temple. Gently, I got my fingers out, her body flinched. "Did I hurt you?" "The complete opposite," she said, lightly laughing. "That was amazing, when did you learn to do that?" Smirking, I cuddled next to her, my hand on her stomach. "I don't know, this is the first time for me too," I said, shrugging. "I guess I know what a woman wants." She turned her head towards me and gave me one of her famous shy smile. Slowly, she began straddling me. "Charlie," I breathed as she made her way on top of me. "What are you doing?" "What a woman wants," she replied as she leaned over, and kissed me, as one of her hand made its way under me, unhooking my bra. She gave me a mischievous look, and I knew I was at her mercy. Then gently, and curiously, she let her fingertips glide on my left eye, and across my chest. I knew she saw the scars, and seemed she had numerous of questions. But now wasn't a good time to ask. All throughout that night, we made endless love. All the moans, gasps, whimpers, and groans were forever recorded in our memories. Each touch, each kiss, everything. I had her, and forever she had me. Finally, at the dead of night, we reached our peak, and we cuddled quietly under the comforter, feeling our naked bodies stuck together like glue. She glided her cheek against mine, and whispered lovingly in my ear, "I love you, too." I shivered at her words, and a tear rolled down as she kissed me on the lips. As she drifted off to sleep, I lay down awake, my hand continuously playing with her hair, praying and dreaming that this night would never end. That we have our own little world, just us two, forever learning from each other. But as soon as the moonlight turned into sunlight, I knew that dreamers were only good in one location: in dreams. ------------------- As soon as Charlie began to stir, I was already dressed in my dry gear, except my mask, which was laying on the bed. Sitting on a chair, I smiled as she made eye contact with me. "Hey," she said quietly, smiling that smile that made my heart soar. "Hey," I replied back, a feeling of sadness began to spread from within. I looked down towards the floor. "You should get dressed. Agent forty-nine radioed in and told me that the helicopter will be here in thirty minutes." "Oh." Shuffling around, she looked for her clothes as I continued looking at the wooden floor. You know it would come to this, Pamela, I thought to myself. Why? Why did you give in? The Mission of the Heart Ch. 04 Because she was worth giving in to, that's why. A pair of cute feet covered in white socks came into view. I looked up, and saw a pair of concerned green eyes. With her robe, Charlie smiled, caressing my cheek. I leaned in, and rested the side of my face on her stomach, hugging her hips, my hands on her buttocks. "No regrets?" I muttered, closing my eyes. "Never," she replied without hesitation, pulling the back of my head closer to her stomach. A minute or two passed by until I decided to stand up. "We have to go downstairs," I said. "They're probably wondering what happened here last night." I grabbed the knob and turned it, only realizing that it was locked. I turned my head towards Charlie and looked at her questionably. "You planned on not letting anyone inside this room last night, didn't you?" I said, amused. "Well..." she said blushing. "Yes, in hoping that my hypothesis about you was right." Shaking my head, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deep. She sighed, pushing her body against mine. "Whatever happens-" "Happens," Charlie finished. "Don't over think, Pamela. Okay?" I looked at her, feeling a bit lost, then nodded. "You have to wear this otherwise they'll suspect something," she quietly said, holding up my grey balaclava. "I get to keep the other one still." Without breaking eye contact, she slipped the mask in place, only revealing my eyes. She smiled up to me, and hugged me one last time before we walked downstairs. ------------------- "Long night, agent?" Lacey said as we stood outside, waiting for the helicopter to land. Even in her mask I felt her smiling. Not long enough, I thought to myself. "It's a shame not all of us are going back," I said to her, changing the subject. Only I, Charlie, Lacey, agent forty-nine and sixty-three were to go back to U.S. soil since another protection mission was to take place; the other agents were called to that duty. "They might bore themselves to death out here." "I doubt that," she replied. "With the right people, it can be a blast. Right, agent?" I scowled at her. Then, a faint sound was heard from above, and saw two helicopters landing. I radioed in agent forty-nine and sixty-three to bring Charlie out. Two helicopters, I thought to myself. Are we not going to the same destination then? One helicopter should be enough for us five. Looking behind, I saw Charlie in her winter clothes with the two agents going my way. I faintly smiled as she made eye contact to me. She looked at the two helicopters landing with confusion. One agent from each copter got out, and walked towards me. The helicopters turned off their engines, and the pilots went out, observing the exterior. Precautionary measures. "Charlie Carlson comes with me," one of the agents said. "You, agent seventy-six, on the other helicopter." "Why?" I asked as bits of anger started to attack my system. "Agency's orders, ma'am." As one agent stood by my side, the other agent half ran towards Charlie. The agent's hand went on top of my shoulder. "One sec," I said impatiently as I went to Charlie's helicopter. As agent forty-nine and sixty-three made their way into the copter, Charlie stayed outside with the other agent by her side. She looked at me as I walked up to her. "So I'm guessing you're going to another place, agent," she quietly said, a glint of sadness in her eyes. "I'll find you," I said, trying to resist the urge to kiss her. "I'll find you." "I know," she said, smiling. "And I'll be waiting." She took over her glove and put her hand out. I did the same, and grabbed her hand, feeling her touch one last time before we depart. She looked at me with her green eyes, and mouthed 'I love you" using her lips. Trying to hold back the tears, I smiled and mouthed 'I love you too.' Almost too soon, she let go, and went in the helicopter, with the agent on her tail. The door slammed shut, and the engine started to go on again. With a whoosh, the helicopter began to ascend, and moved towards the south. "Seventy-six," the agent behind me suddenly said. "We must go." Of course we do, I thought bitterly to myself. We always do. Unhurriedly, I walked towards the remaining helicopter, hearing its engine jump start into life. As I opened the door, I found myself looking at three arm agents looking at me. As I was about to step in, I felt a small pain at the side of my neck, and all of the sudden, everything around me was moving. Blurred. My eyes began to feel heavy as hands supported me, pulling me into the helicopter. "What..." I began to say. The sandman took over my body once again ----------------- As soon as Charlie got into the helicopter, she made eye contact with the first masked figure with green eyes like hers. She looked at the figure nervously, knowing a full blown discussion will take place after they landed . "Everything went well," Charlie suddenly said. "You got what you wanted. Remember that. " The figure didn't move, but continued on staring. Then, it broke eye contact and looked out from the window, trying to enjoy the view. Agent forty-nine got a brown clothed bag under the seat, and threw it to Charlie. "You need to put this on," he commanded. Obediently, Charlie put the bag over her head, and felt herself being handcuffed. A couple of hours later, Charlie felt the helicopter descend. We're here, she thought, trembling at the thought that she'll be inside the Agency once again. "Let's go," agent forty-nine said beside her. Before she knew it, she was on her feet, walking. Wondering. ----------------- After minutes of walking, Charlie felt that she was ushered into a room. A quiet room. "You, sit," she heard agent forty-nine command. She did, and felt her hands being freed. As soon as she heard a door click, the bag over her head was pulled up, and once again, she stared at the dark figure, its green eyes observing her. Charlie looked around and saw a humungous room with walls filled with small television images from surveillance cameras, news, you name it. Stacks of books were everywhere, and multiple high-tech computers were in sight. "It's been a long time since I've been in this room," Charlie muttered, absorbing in the room. "I've forgotten how overwhelming it can be." She looked back at the figure, who was sitting behind the desk. A few seconds passed without any of them speaking. "The deal is done," the dark figure suddenly said, sitting behind the desk. "You know what must be happen." Charlie looked at her, pleading. "I know it's done," she said in a low voice. "But please...you must do this for me." "And why is that so?" "Because...I know you love her too." The dark figure said nothing, its fist slammed onto the wooden desk. It pointed a hand towards her. "Don't you dare!" "It was successful before! What harm can it possibly do?" "Everything!" the dark figure's teeth grinded together. "The operation is simply risky." "But can't you risk it? For her sake?" The figure froze, its arms on the armchair, leaning its back onto the backrest. It let exhaled slowly, its sad eyes looking directly at its forced visitor. "I did," it said with regret in its voice. "I did." The figure stood up and walked towards Charlie, its green eyes glaring. Suddenly, it grabbed its mask and pulled it away, throwing it towards its desk. Charlie stood up, and put a hand on its shoulder, trying to give it comfort. "Tell me what happened...Carrie," Charlie whispered. ------------------ Carried looked at her with sorrow, leaning back to her desk for support. "You, of all people should know this Charlie. You have been an agent to the Agency ever since you were ten. We've trained you, raised ever since we found you in a New York orphanage after your step-parents were killed during a gang-war in the Bronx. Of course, we've trailed your history. We knew your connection with Marco before you took your training here in this same building." Charlie stood next to Carrie, her hand over the redhead's. "Marco was a ghost, and he was very good in staying that way. In every lead we got throughout seven straight years, he was three steps ahead of us. In our frustrations, we pushed harder, hoping to put a leash towards the world's greatest criminal, who was an ally to every known terrorist organization in the world, supplying them the weapons they needed. He had connections, good ones, may I add. Then we remembered, we had one thing: his biological daughter." "This even escalated when seventy-six killed his brother Alfonso. The Agency had no choice, but to act fast as soon as we got word that Marco landed in U.S. soil six months after his brother's death. When we learned that he was hunting down the one responsible for Alfonso's death, we feared for seventy-six's life. Afterwards, ever since we caught his personal mole, tortured him, finally revealing that he worked for Marco, we had to act fast." "It was fortunate that he didn't know you worked for the Agency under the codename agent ten. Or, what most say, agent X," Carrie explained, Charlie flinched. "Otherwise our planned wouldn't have worked. We needed bait. That's where agent seventy-six come into play." "We made her first assignment as an assassination one, hoping that Marco, finally discovering his daughter's location, would step in and stop it, but he didn't interfere. Fortunately, seventy-six didn't kill you. I wonder why that was..." She looked at Charlie in amusement. "That's why we needed to lure him in more. No matter the moral status, a father is a father. If he found out his daughter and his brother's killer were under the same radar, he'd step in. At least that was what we hoped. Of course, it worked, and now he's dead." "You forgot one vital part," Charlie spat, boldly standing in front of Carrie. "The part where seventy-six spent 385 days being tortured by that...that man!" "That wouldn't have happened if you killed James right after you learned he was working with Marco!" Carrie spat back, glaring. "Clearly he was the one that helped with the ambush." "I...thought I had it under control," Charlie explained, faltering. "I didn't know Marco was there that night. I was hoping on tailing James to seek Marco's location." "Well, look how that unraveled, agent," Carrie hissed. "Nevertheless, we had to use what we can. While I looked for seventy-six, you were to be with James, learning what he knows and what he's trying to keep from you. Even though you discovered that your wedding ring was a tracker, we commanded you to ignore it. We would lure Marco once again, and this time, with firepower and in an isolated location." "You never told me that seventy-six was alive," Charlie mumbled. "Nor was I informed that she was to be with us during the current assignment. Why?" Carrie paused, gliding her fingers through her short, red hair. "It didn't seem important, agent X. This was our last chance of getting him, not some dramatic reunion you wanted to happen." A minute of silence passed between the two women, until Charlie spoke up. "We have to discuss about the deal, Carrie." Carrie walked away, going towards one of the screens. "It's inhumane, Carrie," Charlie said in frustration, chasing after Carrie. "The Agency has its humane code, too, and seventy-six deserves it." "You can't wipe out her memories, Carrie...not like this." "You know its protocol," Carrie explained as calmly as she can, not making eye contact. "Secrets are meant to be hidden, never to be revealed again. Any agent in contact with any of the top criminals endangering the U.S. must comply: memories such as theirs hold dangerous information, acknowledging that the criminal exist. That's why we must erase their memories up to the day they have ever came in contact with them. That includes Marco and his brother." "But that would mean taking at least five years from seventy-six's life," she tearfully said. "Can't you change your mind and try to at least think about my other proposal!?" "The relocation operation is risky, Charlie, and the success rate is only 45%. I won't risk it...ever again." "What do you mean?" Carrie pursed her lips together, shaking her head. On the wall was a small group of buttons. She pressed one of them. A couple of seconds later, three agents came into the office. Charlie looked at them in confusion, then back at Carrie. "What is this?" "Like I said...any agent in contact with any criminals endangering the U.S. must comply," Carrie said without any emotion, then commanded the agents, "take her to Wing C, to the Pheonix Lab." "Carrie, you can't-" "Take her now." "Carrie, no!" Charlie struggled to get free, until one of the men showed her a syringe. She froze as the needle went into her neck. A couple of seconds later, she was sound asleep, while Carrie's eyes continued to look at the screen, the sound of the agents' footsteps pounded her ears. Sighing, she went back to her desk and opened up one of the drawers. She grabbed a thin piece of paper, folded and held many times. With overwhelming amount of emotions, she looked at the photograph that made her heart skip a beat, despite the fact that she looked at it many times. It revealed her, in a wedding dress, her long red hair styled up in a beautiful bun, her smile genuine as soon as the photographer found the couple. Next to her was a suited, slim figure, its smile also genuine and real, its long, raven hair in a pony tail. It was agent seventy-six those many years ago, holding her new bride, whisking her away from the pain of their world. Carrie let out a long, sorrowful breath, and closed her eyes, thinking back of what happened back then. Back when she wasn't the head of the Agency. ------------------ Carrie has always been one of the smartest in the Agency, and the secret organization had the right to boast about it. She had an I.Q. higher than Einstein's, and wisdom beyond anyone's years. Back then, she was just one of the desk agents, helping the field agents each mission at a time. It all changed when she was assigned to an agent named agent seventy-six. Ever since they made first contact, it was love at first sight, and Carrie knew that her heart forever belonged to seventy-six. After years of loving each other, kissing and making love in every chance they got, seventy-six finally proposed to her, and Carrie answered yes without hesitation. At that time, they were in a mission in a third world-country, so seventy-six improvised: she gave Carrie her necklace, which Carrie always lied to her employees, claiming that it was her grandmother's. As they transferred to Paris, seventy-six pulled Carrie to a chapel, and whispered in her ear," Marry me, Carrie," to which Carrie complied. Everything was set, and their dresses and suits were worn. No one else were there except them, the priest and the photographer, and their endless, undeniable love to one another. Their smiles were truly genuine, same with their love. Everything changed once they reached U.S. soil. Agents swarmed into their jet, pointing their guns towards the young couple. Seventy-six was in front of her, demanding what was happening, protecting her lover. Then, a small zap was heard, and before Carrie could comprehend what was happening, a tranquilizer was on seventy-six's neck. The young agent stumbled, falling, Carrie caught her, cradling her as the agents before her pointed their guns towards them. Hands were on her, pulling her away from seventy-six. She screamed and punched, anything to get out from their grasp, until one of the agents drugged her as well. When she came to, she was in a room filled with numerous television screens, high-tech computers, and a lone desk, which stood a dark figure. It claimed that the head of the agency has died the week before Carrie and seventy-six reached U.S. soil. It claimed that Carrie was to be the next head. Rejecting the position ferociously, the Agency gave her only two choices because of her relationship with seventy-six. The Agency had to cut loose ends, and anyone close to the head was too much to handle. No one was to be close with the head, it puts them in a vulnerable spot. She was given two choices: accept the job, and seventy-six was to undergo a relocation operation, in which her memories will be wiped clean, and new fake memories will take its place. Fake memories of childhood, her first kiss, her first bicycle ride, her first prom dance. Everything. The Agency was to build her a new life, with a fake birth certificate, new everything, but she won't remember who she was, who seventy-six was. She was then to be put in society as a normal being, and live life without ever knowing what her real identity was. She won't know who Carrie was. The other option was not a relocation operation, but it did require wiping memories...for the both of them: the figure confidently said they will wipe out their memories up to five years. It was a big gap in their memories where everything that has happened in those five years were to be wiped clean. Every mission, every places, everything. Every kiss they shared, every love sessions, and their love for each other would be forgotten. Carrie must not hold the information, knowing that the head of the Agency was dead. "What say you, agent?" the figure asked quietly towards the sobbing Carrie, her green eyes in anguish. "I'll take it the first option," she quietly said. She won't let the Agency go into her mind, and the fact that both of them won't know what happened throughout those five years was too much to bear for the redhead. Their love was endless. And she would grab hold to their memories, even if it means holding to them alone. She love agent seventy-six very dearly to the point that she wanted to have a normal life for the young woman. "I'll take it." "Good." The next day, while Carrie looked from the screens in the room, seventy-six was to undergo surgery. Doctor Philips was there, along with other surgeons. Carrie's heart ached when she saw her lover lying on the operating table, semi-conscious, her eyes open. Numerous minutes in, and her lover's body began to shake, going into convulsions. Wide-eyed, she saw the surgeons holding the agent down, and Carrie sprinted towards the operating room. Agents, along with the dark figure, held her as she was screaming towards her lover, her hand reaching out to her. Then, seventy-six's body stopped moving, her eyes slowly closed, and the surgeons continued onto their work as agents dragged the distraught Carrie away. Carrie was locked into a spare room, her eyes filled with tears, until the door opened. Doctor Philips, along with the dark figure walked in, informing her that the operation did not go well as planned. Agent seventy-six's body rejected the new memories as if they were cancer cells. Instead, the surgeons had to act fast, and decided to continue with the operation otherwise the agent might die. They wiped away the last five years of her memory, and Carrie gasped in sadness. Although there might be hints of re-lapses of her previous memories, regaining those five years fully was impossible. "I'm sorry-" "You have no idea what that word means!" she yelled, pointing at them, crying endless tears. "You have no idea!" She stormed out, trying to find her lover in the operating room. She found her as she was sleeping soundly. Heartbroken, Carrie walked towards her, seeing a little scar at the back of her neck. Smiling sadly, she caressed seventy-six's cheek, kissing her forehead. She stayed with her for another hour, caressing and looking at her, humming, and talking about their now forgotten past. It was then Carrie accepted her fate, as well as seventy-six's. It was then she accepted the situation.