An hour later, I woke a dirty, foul smelling, blood caked Brian because we had reached the agency, only he wouldn't budge the slightest bit. His head was on my lap and he was too heavy for me to move. I lost all feeling in my legs within the first fifteen minutes of the cab ride, but I could feel something moist and warm pooling on my leg.
Oh hell no! I swear if that's drool...
"Brian!" He barely stirred. His glasses did manage to fall off though.
"Brian." I said through clenched teeth. He still continued snoring contentedly. I let out a puff of hair in frustration and crossed my arms. I would have to solve this problem at a certain angle...
"Brian! Get your lazy ass up!" I shrieked into his ear while pinching and slapping his face.
"Alert, alert, alert! Stranger danger!" Brian screamed. I cackled. The taxi driver lightly chuckled.
"Let's go. Keep the change," I said, after I paid the tax driver $50.
We headed toward the entrance of the agency. It was secured by towering iron gates with hidden cameras. The agency building itself looked like an ordinary building right smack in the middle of the city. However, the actual agency where all the spies worked was underground. No one knew of our HQ except for our spies.
I scanned my card, my fingerprint, and my eye and raised an unflattering finger to the camera. Brian followed like a quiet little puppy.
"Make sure you don't get lost," I called to Brian. There were many people looking at us with scrunched up faces. Then again, I was covered in the grime from the sewers and Brian's shirt was drenched with his blood. I hastily grabbed his wrist and led him to the stairwell.
"Where are we going?" Brian asked.
"Shut up and follow me," I replied back. I dragged him down the stair case until we reached a door. It had a sign hanging on a nail that said, "Authorized Personel Only." I took out the key to open the door and unlocked it. Brian was still in my grasp and he looked more scared than ever. He must've thought that I was going to kill him because his eyes widened as a I opened the door slowly (just to see him squirm). Behind the ordinary door was an elevator. I walked in and punched in the floor of the agency. At this point, Brian was clinging to my arm like a little girl. Honestly, I couldn't help but feel pity towards Brian. Because he was captured against his will, he would be thrust into the world of spies. No one deserved that, no matter how evil they were. While we were in the elevator, I gave Brian a few helpful tips.
"Okay, kid. When we get in, don't say a word. Don't attract any attention. Don't stand near me. Don't be intimidated by the other spies. And most importantly, do not act weak." He gulped loudly.
"So basically all I can do is walk?" He asked.
"I'm so glad you understood," I retorted. The elevator opened slowly and I breathed in deeply. It was show time.
I strolled into the agency with no trouble. It was bustling with people typing on computers and making calls to other branches of the agency. People with several files in hand were rushing about the grand room. Severa; people gasped when they saw me and a broken Brian behind me. I think I heard a, "What is she doing here?" somewhere. I glared at every direction possible, showing as much hostility as I could bear. It was surprising yet refreshing when a nice young lady greeted me.
"Hello, my name is Marissa, and may I say, nice job on your mission!" She grinned, looking at a weary, frightened Brian. "Though, I think this kid has been scarred for life," she added. Brian merely nodded furiously in agreement.
"Right... Here's the kid, I'm going home." I turned to leave, but Brian had a terrified look in his eye. His cute, scared expression right now made me want to cuddle with him.
Where the hell did that come from?
"Actually, we would like you to question Brian. He's more comfortable with you, seeing as you rescued him." Marissa's words rang in my ear.
"But that bitchy lady said specifically-" I protested.
"I know. But the bitchy lady is a receptionist. There is a reason why she's a receptionist, and not a spy." Marissa winked and I smiled cunningly. I liked her already.
I motioned for Brian to follow me and I walked into an interrogation room. It was practically empty, with only a table and two chairs on each side. Marissa was probably looking through the window in the next room, completely invisible to anyone in the interrogation room.
Brian took a seat and settled in. I sat across from him and folded my hands together awkwardly. The tension was so thick, you could pierce it with a needle. I tried to be friendly, but my attempt was in vain.
"Are you comfortable yet?" I asked Brian. I was actually surprised at how unfriendly and unwelcoming that sounded.
"Why am I here?" he asked, completely ignoring my caring question. He folded his hands on the table.
"Why? You tell me that. Apparently, my "colleagues" think that you have very important information and you need to tell us what that information is." I told him.
I hadn't actually looked at Brian before, but now I was scrutinizing his face. He had the same typical messy tousled dark hair with blond highlights, and was a good five inches taller than me. But his eyes were what really had me speechless. They were light brown around the rims, but the inside was a darker, richer shade of brown. Before I could get another good look, he closed his eyes, ran his hand through his hair,and sighed.
"A few years ago, my dad fixed up a formula that would eat metal. Then, the liquid would disappear and turn to this dust-like material. Only it's on a file. It's on one of his computers,but I managed to download it before those goons kidnapped me." He crossed his arms and slouched in his chair with a proud smile.
"I deleted the file permanently before I left," Brian said triumphantly.
"Oh?" I raised my eyebrow up. Apparently he wasn't as stupid as he looked either.
"I was captured by those terrorists because they wanted that file. It can eat through any metal, so they can get through vaults for money, identities, etc." My eyes widened. Technology these days was extremely potent and deadly.
"Why do you want to be the first to find it?" I rested my chin in my palm, trying to pretend I was actually interested even though I did not give a single crap about him.
"I figure I might not have important use for it, but others might. If this got into the wrong hands, well the world is basically screwed."
"Where is the file?" I started picking at my nails because pretending like I was interested was boring. His eyes lit up and he beamed with pride. Maybe, just this once, he actually did something correctly. Perhaps, I judged him too quickly.
"Er, it was in my shoe," he said as he took off his shoe and shook it furiously. He then took off his other shoe and practically swung it in the air. Then, he started checking his pockets all the while he was hyperventilating. His hands ran up and down his shirt and pants frantically.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that he had lost it. Which brought me to the conclusion that Brian really could not do anything correctly.
"This is not good. I probably lost it back there somewhere! And those people were hired by my brother! He probably has the freaking file!" He slammed his head repeatedly on the table. I raised my eyebrows. Another suspect meant more infiltrating, which meant more grenades chucked at me, which meant-
Focus, Serena! You have a job to do! I shook my head furiously and continued to drill him with questions.
"Your brother? What could he possibly have to do with this file?" I questioned him.
"Yes, my brother. He's not important." He let out a frustrated sigh.
"If you brother knows anything about this file, we need to bring him in and interrogate him," I said.
"I doubt it. He's too elusive. This spy agency or thing or whatever the hell this is won't be able to catch him," he groaned.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. This was such a waste of my time. I got bruises, cuts, gashes, and a terrible headache for measly information and another possible suspect who didn't even have the knowledge to be considered one.
"Why are you so incompetent?" I asked furiously. Then again, I had expected Brian to screw things up.
I stood up angrily and left the room. Marissa greeted me outside.
"You should really try being nicer to him." She gave me an unsure smile, but that did little to appease my anger.
"Yeah, well it's not my job to be nice. I'm just supposed to do your dirty work," I spat.
"Where's the file?" Marissa ignored my catty outburst.
"Clearly, he doesn't have it." With that, I skipped away, glad to leave the agency and to face plant my lovely pillow.
Marissa hailed a cab and she even paid for the ride (then again I did spend $50 coming to the agency and the way back was nothing short of $15). I was driven back home injured, but safe.
Little did I know that my life was going to become a living hell.
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