I bolted my breakfast quickly as I piled my hair up, grabbed my duffel, and made my way to the massive building under guise of a factory. It was a pretty bright day, and the warmth of the rays glancing off my shoulders was a nice change from the chilly apartment rooms I usually stayed in.
Most of us stayed in apartments scattered around the globe, and simply reported to the nearest branch of our agency, the UIA for short. They recruited people with potential from all sorts of backgrounds, and trained them up for the life of an agent. I was one of the earlier members who was taken in and trained up for years, so I was evidently one of the best. Anyone who didn't make the cut as an agent simply worked as backup and organised plans and meetings for the higher ups.
It very much felt like a government organisation, which made sense. A lot of the higher ups used to work for the government ー a black ops thing. It was funny, how previous justice warriors ended up being a huge ー and I mean huge ー group of criminals performing elaborate assassinations and robberies. Their little recruitment mission ended up in thousands of agents around the globe participating in very organised crime, and we hadn't gotten caught just yet. The agency was practically family to me now, although a very weird one.
We had one rule after all; do what you want, just don't harm the agency.
I lived a pretty comfy lifestyle and was relatively well off financially. We were given a place to stay, and the weapons were usually issued by the agency. And this is without mentioning the pay I get. The job was good. Plus it came with instant company. Useful for those of us who decided to abandon their lives and bunk with the agency. Needless to say, I was pretty satisfied with my life. No depressing job, no financial issues, the whole shebang.
Apart from the relentless training.
I pushed open the doors to what we treated as the "training ground" ー a converted warehouse thing ー and was instantly hit by the noise of people chatting, gunshots firing, groans and complaints by the agents, and the voice of Sevi, our unit head. Bulky and intimidating, he wasn't the sort of person people liked messing with. Half a dozen scars littered his face, with an unknown amount littering the rest of his body. I didn't know. I never saw. I don't want to see.
The whole east unit was going to be training here, and my guess was I was the last to arrive again.
"Sadie, glad you could make it," he said sarcastically.
Yep, I was definitely the last to arrive.
"Sorry about that. You know me, Sev, I'm always late," I replied, unzipping my duffel and taping my knuckles.
"But you still don't try to be punctual," Sev said pointedly.
"Ouch, but it's true." I smiled at him and sauntered towards the training dummies, knowing he ー or anyone for that matter ー can never stay mad at me for long. I was the favourite after all, the princess of the agency. With how charming I was, it would be surprising if I wasn't.
-
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I was holding up a couple pads for one of my teammates to punch, and he wasn't doing it as forcefully as I'd have liked.
"I'm bloody trying," he wheezed, trying to catch his breath and leaning against the wall for support.
"You can do better than that, how else are you ever gonna make it to your thirtieth birthday?" I prompted, knocking him on the head with the pads.
"I'm more of a gun guy."
"Well you'd better learn how to be a fist fight sorta guy too."
"Not everyone is as motivated as you to fight close range," he whined. "Like look at me, I'm not built for this." He held up his lanky arms to demonstrate.
Yeah I could see why.
"If you made it this far, you can throw a damn punch. Now hit it harder before I hit you," I threatened.
We had another few minutes of punching before I let him sit down and rest his body a bit. Just at that moment, Ray strode towards me, his dark hair tousled and his hand holding a tumbler to me. His hand was sweaty and gross, but he definitely didn't look gross. Chest rising and falling in an attempt to catch his breath made him look all the more gorgeous. I was just as hot, despite my rushed appearance. Were we always this stunning? Short answer is yes.
I accepted the offered drink and drank contently, watching as Ray taped up his knuckles and asked for a go with the pads.
"Sure, just wear the gloves and wait over there," I agreed, setting the drink down and grabbing the pads once more.
-
"My turn!" I said, grabbing the gun on the table and loading it. I placed my fingers on the hilt and took my aim, pulling the trigger and shooting twice.
Bullseye. Ray stood beside me and aimed his own company issued pistol at another target, shooting with pinpoint accuracy, even when the target started moving.
I hated admitting it, but even though I was more skilled in other weaponry, Ray definitely excelled in handling a gun. A handgun, at least. I focused on my own target and shot down as many as I could. I wanted to beat Ray. I'd wanted to for years. A bit of friendly rivalry never hurt anyone.
The next three hours were spent running laps, completing courses, fighting, and more shooting, and I was so over it by the time lunch break hit. Three hours of training with sore arms isn't the most relaxing activity. My body still ached from yesterday, and my guess was it was just gonna get worse. I stuffed my equipment back into my duffel and was greeted by Sevi as I was leaving.
"Be back at the office by two, and bring Ray and Kylie along with you," he said nonchalantly as he made his way out.
Jesus Christ, another mission? I'd just gotten back for fuck's sakes. I texted Ray the info and told him to meet me there.
Before I did that though, I needed to take a bath.
-
The sound of my shoes on the tiles echoed around me as I walked through the bleak corridors until I got to a door at the very end. I went through the door and into a relatively modest room overlooking the streets of Massachusetts. I sat myself on the black leather office chair facing a desk littered with items of all sorts ー papers, bullets, a box of cigarettes, a lighter, and other miscellaneous items. I noticed Ray slouching on a similar chair mindlessly fiddling with a lighter, evidently bored out of his wits.
"Where's Kylie?" I asked. She hadn't arrived yet and it was already quarter past. She seemed to be later than me, and Ray confirmed this in a monotonous tone. I leaned back on the chair, shutting my eyes and letting myself drift off into a light sleep, briefly noticing Kylie arriving a bit later and Ray greeting her. I ignored them both. I wanted a bit of peace from them for once.
I woke up with a start a few minutes later when Sev and a tall woman, the head of the America branch, entered the room. Fuck. Why was the head here? She'd never personally given us orders apart from when we were first located. I was under Sev. He was the one that gave us instructions. Unless...
I sat up straight and stared at her intently. If the head herself came to see us it's one of two things. It's either we're getting killed, or we're being put in a mission that'll kill us. She sat herself behind the desk and cleared her throat.
"You're probably wondering why you're here," said Quinn. "As you may know, UIA isn't the most liked. Our name is quite infamous and too many groups are after us. Both government related and rogue mafias." She looked at us, her gaze averting from one to the other.
I don't like the direction this is going.
"With the well-rounded skill set your team has, and your trust in each other," she nodded towards us, "your previous commission's faults shall be excused, and your team is tasked with the agency's safety." She handed us some papers, a couple photos, and an envelope of cash.
Hey, at least we weren't getting fired.
-
I leaned back against my chair as I looked at the papers for the hundredth time. 'Il Rivale'. Dumb name. We were tasked with taking out a corrupt mafia boss that had been targeting our agency for a while, but it was another underground group so it would be harder to track them down. Especially since they don't settle in one place and prefer to stay in hideouts across the continent.
The papers held descriptions of possible leads, information on important people, and various information that could help find the guy. Hendrix Bowen, Amsterdam. Darren, Germany, last sighted six months ago. Red hair, unnamed, Paris. Some leads, possible locations, a couple pictures stolen from CCTV footage, all seemingly based in Europe. Guess I was travelling back home for this one. Amsterdam has pot, right?
-
Hendrix Bowen, it said. Last seen in Amsterdam about 2 months ago, around early 30-ish based on his photos, brown hair, blue eyes, badly shaven face and an associate of the mafia group. He owned a house in Amsterdam where the mafia stays from time to time, so finding him would be great help. He has a girlfriend, reddish blond hair in slight curls. Round cheeks sprinkled with freckles plus bright green eyes, pretty cute. Stays in Amsterdam with him so she probably knows too. My body was tired and all I wanted to do was rest, but I had to get this done. I was gonna book a flight to the Netherlands.
• author's note •
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Second chapter! I'm building up to something, I swear. Slower-paced than the last chapter, but we need to let Sadie breathe. New mission, new issues, keep your hats on because this is going to be a shitshow.
-the person you hire to traumatise your kids, jinx
ns3.144.105.255da2
