Great. Just great. 

 A bullet whizzed past my face as the deafening sound of gunshots rang in my ears, echoing around the room. 

"Get down!" I signaled toward the trainee, already dropping to the floor, but the idiot was too slow. Letting out a yell, the scrawny fourteen-year-old fell to the ground in a fetal position, clutching the spot on his chest where the bullet had hit.

 Groaning, I inched over to him, crouched low and gritting my teeth in annoyance. "Hold on," I grumbled, before raising my own gun, peering into the dim lighting and returned fire. Letting out a satisfied sigh at the shouts that followed, echoing through the vast space, I stood up, smirking into the silence. That was so much better. A whimper came from the ground, and I rolled my eyes, kicking the trainee in the side. "Stop being so dramatic."

The teenager wrinkled his nose at me and scowled through the blonde fringe hanging in front of his eyes. "But it hurt! And that hurt! What'd you kick me for?" 

I stared down at him, raising a brow and feeling utterly unimpressed. "It was a paintball gun. And you have a vest on. That," I nudged his prone body with one foot, "was for failing the exercise, Louis." The drill that we had just finished was like laser tag, but with paintball guns instead of laser ones. The cleaner the vest, the more points the trainee received. And the trainee in front of me looked like an abstract piece of art. 

The trainee shot up from the ground, his face morphing from hurt to shocked. "What!? How'd I fail?"

I closed my eyes and rolled my head back, enjoying the sharp crack that  my bones made. Trainees could be so stupid, sometimes. Louis? Even more so. Why I had to put up with them, I would never know. Opening my eyes, I crossed my arms, raising two brows at him. "Guess."

His shoulders deflated as he realized, and he stared at the ground. "Oh. I got shot."

Ding ding, we have a winner. At that moment though, the door to the training room swung open, and I turned to see another Agent standing in the doorway, turning on all the lights in the large, underground room. Spotting me, she began to walk over. 

Nodding her head at the trainee, she spoke in my direction. "Agent, Director Henry has requested that you come to his office immediately."

Uh oh. "Got it." Walking towards the door, I spoke without looking back. "Oh, and Louis," I kept walking and aimed at the target that I knew was against the far wall behind me. Pulling the trigger on the gun, a satisfying thunk rang out, and I knew that I had hit the bullseye from the sharp intakes of breath behind me. "Keep practicing." 

---

I think I could feel the floor beneath my jaw, that's how far I dropped it. 

"I'm doing what!?" My eyes narrowed into slits. 

Director Henry sighed as he ran a hand down his tired face, and reclined back into his chair. We were sitting in his office on the second floor of the agency, and all the windows were shuttered. That in itself made the grey office even more eerie, but I was too upset to care. If he wanted to live in a little raincloud, that was his choice.  

"I'm putting you on a team with three agents from a different agency." He was talking slowly, which rattled my nerves. I hated when people talked to me like they were afraid I would spook and go berserk. "You will be going on a mission together. The paperwork is all right here." His pale hand handed over a folder, which my own tanned one snatched up. I quickly looked through the papers and frowned at what I found.

"We've talked about this." My voice left no room for discussion. "I am not going to work with a team. I do solo. You know this," I muttered, my blue eyes glaring angrily at Director Henry. 

"Bentley, that was three years ago. You're nineteen now. You need to work with a team again." The Director's voice sounded soft and sympathetic, but if he thought I would be persuaded, he was dead wrong. My back ached from sitting against the hard wooden chair, and I ran my hand through my dark brown hair to distract myself from the overwhelming urge to slap him over the head with the folder. 

"Since when do we work with agents from another agency, anyhow? We've never done that before." I frowned, trying to understand how this joint mission was even sanctioned.  

 "Since now. This is final. You'll meet them tonight at 8:30 p.m. in the parking garage at the downtown mall on East 3rd Avenue. Go pack." Asshole. Fine, okay, swell. I guess I was being forcibly persuaded. I mean, the man did pay my bills, after all. 

Henry stood up with finality in his stance. His salt and pepper hair shined faintly in the dim light of his office as he held out his left hand. "Good luck." I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right. Luck. Where was that three years ago when I needed it? 

Still glowering, I stood up, ignoring his outstretched out and sarcastically saluted him instead before striding out the door into the busy sterile hallway, folder in hand. My boots thudded against the tile as I marched down the corridor, past another training room, where new trainees were testing out their skills in combat against seasoned veterans, greeting the people I knew along the way with a firm nod and pinched mouth.

Every year it seemed like more and more kids wanted to come into the agency, but few were selected. Watching the thirteen-year-olds strive for perfection reminded me of my own time in recruitment, where I had first met them. My lips twitched, but I shook my head. No use thinking about the past. I had a mission to get ready for.

---

After packing a few necessities, I changed out of my civilian clothes of dark blue jeans and a grey long sleeved shirt that I had slipped on in the interim, to my black, metallic fabric suit.

Sighing, I scanned the papers one more time. There was Kara Peterson, female, eighteen years old, black hair, and dark blue eyes. Next, Thomas Riverly, male, nineteen years of age, blond hair, and brown eyes. And lastly, Jeremy Montford, male, twenty-three years, dark brown hair, and light green eyes.

I briefly wondered what information they had received on me. Agent 5. Nineteen years old. Dark chestnut hair, light blue eyes. Special talent: screwing up everything. I snorted. Yeah, that'd be on my papers, probably in fine print at the bottom with a tiny asterisk that read "CAUTION."

I mean, if I had my way, the addendum would be 'Caution: Hot.'

I considered taking the papers with me before tossing them back onto my bed. I would be in some deep shit if those got into the wrong hands. Taking one last look at my small, bleak, dorm room, I turned off the lights before locking the door and making my way down to the agency's garage. 

 Once there, I mounted the standard issue black motorcycle, and made my way out into the dark, windy night and began to make my way across the city. No one was around, except the few late-night stragglers standing in the corners of doorways, trying to keep warm. It was March 3rd! Shouldn't it have started to warm up by now? No, Mother Nature just had to keep it coming. 

I sighed heavily into the dark before turning onto the street across from the mall, and parked. Scanning my surroundings, I noticed a black SUV, agency sanctioned probably, parked a few blocks up, but the driver's seat was dark. Didn't seem like much, but you never knew. 

Crossing the street, I glanced back at my motorcycle again before entering the shadows of the garage. One of the other agents would come by tomorrow to pick up the bike and bring it back to the agency. 

Going deeper into the garage, I started to make out voices echoing from out of the darkness. I slowly drew my handgun from my side holster, and flicked the safety off with a careful finger. "You lost the keys. You lost the keys! I can't believe it. No wait, I can! You're such an idiot, Tom!" A feminine voice rang out angrily in the quiet. That must be Kara, then.

"I thought you had them! I didn't know Jeremy slipped them into that takeout bag that I threw away! And the spare is under the mat!" A masculine voice, presumably Tom, protested. "Oh my God, when the other agent gets here, he's going to kill me." A groan sounded.

 "If  he gets here," grumbled a deeper voice. And that would be Jeremy. I raised an eyebrow. Sounded like a delightful fellow. 

 "Um, hello? He? Agent 5 could be a female. You don't know," Kara snapped back instantly. Oh, I liked her. My lips twitched upward into an almost-smile. 

 Gun still firmly held between my fingers, I silently walked forward between the cars, sighting the agents up before aiming and shooting a hole into the driver's window, effectively breaking the glass. The three agents jumped at the sound, and whirled around before spotting me and looking at each other in confusion.

 "Who are you?" Jeremy reacted swiftly, aiming his own handgun at me and speaking forcefully.  

 "Agent 5." I walked forward confidently, lowering my handgun and clicking the safety back on as I took in their dumbstruck expressions. Clearing out the glass with my gun, I put my hand through the broken window, unlocking the door. Opening it up, I grabbed the spare key from under the floor mat and ignited the engine before buckling myself into the driver's seat. I took the opportunity to place my handgun on the dashboard as well. "Are you getting in?" I motioned for them to climb in, before unlocking the passenger doors.

  "See I told you. Female." Kara smirked at me with a satisfied glint in her eyes, an expression which I returned. I could get used to working with her. 

 "Come on boys, I don't have all night." I fiddled with the radio dials before finding a station with classical music. Nothing like listening to Bach while driving. Really helps the miles fly by.

"Right." Tom mumbled to himself while hustling in, Jeremy right behind him, glancing at me every few seconds. Kara took the passenger seat besides me, and in a few minutes, we were off on the mission. 

Hopefully no one dies this time. 

---

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