When nighttime rolls around, my boss finally decides that he's going to let me off for the day. I cannot even begin to tell you how incredibly tired I am as I trudge toward an exit of the building and out to where my car is in the parking lot. I actually sit behind the wheel and snooze for a solid twenty minutes before I start it up and drive off the lot. I turn down the street and head for the Agency, mentally thanking God when I hit every green light down each block. It made my life easier, that's for sure.

When I approach the Agency, I'm greeted by an area with very tight security. They check my ID and go through everything before they allow me to drive my car onto the lot. I find a parking space relatively easy, but it wasn't hard, because not very many cars are parked in this area I chose. That made me breathe a little sigh of relief, because it meant that I can sleep here in the car for a few more minutes. At least, until someone comes by and wakes me up.

I fold my arms over the steering wheel before resting my forehead on my own forearms. My eyes close themselves and I am pulled into a peaceful darkness that doesn't seem to last very long.

My brain decides that we are now wide awake, and it doesn't even want to shut itself off. I groan with discontent, sitting back in my seat. My head rolls back against the headrest and I find myself staring up at the ceiling of my car. After sitting there for a good five, ten minutes, I finally force myself to open the door and step out into the open. The semi-bright lights from the building fall upon my eyes, which makes them hurt slightly. I close them for a few moments, then I have to blink rapidly several times for my eyes to adjust to the lights. I probably look like a madman standing here like this.

When my eyes become adjusted, I lean against the car to keep myself up and help me with the slight dizziness. I haven't had any sleep in the last week because of reoccurring horrid nightmares. My psychiatrist wants to prescribe sleep medication, but it'll just make the nightmares longer. . .

What are you even freaking out for? I manage to ask myself when I regain my composure and begin walking to the door in the front. You have an important job to do here, remember that. I show them my ID once more before they let me through the doors. Running my fingers through my hair as I proceed down the hallway, I slick it back and use the hair-tie on my wrist to keep it secured in a tight, low ponytail. My stilettos make almost no sound when they "click" against the carpet beneath my feet. I approach the receptionist's desk, returning to her the dirty look that she gives me.

Before she even says anything, I speak up. "I have an appointment with Miss Diana Burnwood."

She begins typing stuff on her computer, "Name?" She asks.

"Anastasia Hartman." I respond, leaning slightly over her desk. She snorts at me in disapproval, but I just ignore it. It's not like this woman scares me, anyway.

"Hm. Ah, yes, here you are." She types in something else before nodding her head. "You may see her now. She'll be in her office on the second floor, third door on your right if you take the stairs." She looks up at me. "If you take the elevator, her office will be the second door on your left."

I nod, "Thank you, ma'am." I tip my head respectively before heading toward the flight of stairs. I'm not one to typically take an elevator because of my severe claustrophobia, and besides, walking up to the second floor isn't all that bad. It's not like I'm walking up to the thirtieth floor or anything.

When I reach the second floor, I'm greeted by a long stretch of an empty hallway. There are four doors on one side, and only two doors on the other. I walk forward down the hallway, making sure to approach the correct door. I take a moment to compose myself, trying to keep from falling asleep while I stand right there. I knock a couple times.

"Come in," I can hear Miss Burnwood's voice come from the other side of said door. It meant I was at the right place.

I put my hand on the knob and turn it before slowly opening the door. When it opens, I'm greeted by a really nice office space. A couch is in front of her desk, and a man sits on that couch. He's got a shiny, bald head with a visible barcode on the back of his noggin. From the looks of it, he was wearing a dark business suit. I can feel my heartbeat speed up and my hands clench involuntarily into tight fists. I can't believe that I'm in the same room with the very man that is the reason I no longer have a brother. I can't stand the sight of him.

"So kind of you to join us." Diana says as I close the door behind me after I've fully stepped into the office. "Please, have a seat." She gestures me over with one of her hands. "There are a few things that we need to discuss."

I'm hesitant at first. My mind begins to travel in all different directions at once, causing my head to spin. Without wanting to draw attention to myself, though, or make it seem like something is wrong, I walk around to the front of the couch and make myself comfy when I sit down. The couch is probably the size of a loveseat, and barely fits two people. I can't say that I enjoy being this close to 47.

As I fix my skirt, Diana continues with what she has to say. "This, Miss Hartman, is Agent 47; your new partner." She smiles at us.

"Pleasure." I tell him apathetically. "I'm-"

"Anastasia Hartman." He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence, which causes me to give him a look of disapproval. "I remember you."

This makes my heart leap and skip a few beats. How could he possibly remember me? "Is that so?" I ask him sarcastically. He just gives me a nod as I cross my legs. "And how is that possible?"

Diana interrupts, "Could have been from a number of things. He's been around." She then becomes serious after that statement. "Now, onto more pressing matters." She sits herself at the corner of her desk, her hands folded over her legs. "Your first destination is London, England. A man and his wife are hosting a masquerade ball that you two are to attend. Oddly enough, that same couple are your two targets." She pulls a folder off of her desk and hands it to 47. "Their names are Ruby and Michael Johnson."

When 47 is done going through the file, he hands the folder to me, "And what are we eliminating them for?" I ask as I flip open the file folder. My eyes read the brief description on them both, then I take the time to study their features.

The smile drops from her features, and she suddenly looks like somebody punched her in the stomach when I asked. "Michael lures young and naïve females they invite to parties off on their own by getting them to trust him." She lets out a breath, obviously trying to keep her composure intact.

"And what does he do to them, exactly?" 47 asks, his broad shoulders seeming tense to me.

"He. . .rapes some of them." I tense up now, closing the folder to set it aside. I'm suddenly on the very edge of my seat as she continues. "Then Ruby labels each girl Michael lures in with a price and puts them up for auction, to be sold off like they're nothing more than property." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "It's sickening, and it needs to be taken care of." I couldn't agree with her more. "Then, I want the two of you to locate the facility where the auction occurs and shut it down. There has to be at least thirty girls there. They need to be rescued and brought to safety."

"If there's thirty-plus girls there, how do you expect us to rescue them all?" I ask her, my foot tapping against the carpet. I wasn't anxious or nervous, just really wanting to murder myself a rapist right about now.

"That will be the difficult part, yes, but don't worry. You'll notify me once you've found the place, and I'll send other agents over there to help you escort the girls out of their hell."

I nod my head, "Understood."

"That all?" 47 asks, taking in all of the information in the same manner that I am.

"Yes, that is all." She says. I get up with 47 and the two of us go to exit the room. "Oh, and by the way, Miss Hartman," I stop and look at her over my shoulder when I hear her say my name, "welcome to the team."