MI6 Academy

NERVE/Enemy Hideout-Vauxhall, London/0200 hours-September 3

I awoke flipping in the air.

I was in a van, and we had just stopped, hard.

In midair I was jerked back to my sleeping place, and the reason for this was because I was handcuffed.

"Trying to escape, are we?" a man to my right asked.

"We might as well let her run," said a woman to my left. "When she gets caught, she'll get beaten. Oh how I want to watch her get beaten."

"I wasn't trying to escape," I said, trying to sound tough. "If you people knew how to drive, maybe I wouldn't be flying out of my seat."

They both looked at me.

Or at least I thought they did. It was darker than the night here.

"Listen you little brat," the woman started. "You don't want us to have to bring our knives out, do you?" she asked.

"Try me," I responded.

I know what you're thinking. I'm crazy. But I was just doing something we learned at the academy. I was calling their bluff. If their bosses wanted them to torture me, I would already be tortured. She wouldn't bring out her knife, because those simply weren't her orders. Although this method usually worked, you could never be for sure.

The woman smiled at me. Then the man. He smiled back.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a nice knife, one that could easily penetrate skin.

I took a deep breath. She wouldn't do it. Hopefully.

She leaned over to me. Centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch. The knife was only a hair away from me.

Suddenly, the back door opened.

A team, consisting of some 8 or ten men, were waiting for us.

They parted for someone that was walking through. Surprisingly enough, I had met her before.

She was just as I remembered. Pretty, with black hair and brown eyes. She was the first bad guy I had ever met.

She walked right up to the van. She looked at the knife the woman next to me was still holding near my throat.

"You had no orders to harm or assassinate Ms. Smith. You have disobeyed the organization."

"But-"

"You're fired, effective immediately."

2 male guards grabbed her by each of her arms.

When they were quite a distance away the lady said, "No loose ends. Take her to the gunners. Tell them they can practice on her."

I widened my eyes in surprise.

"Let me go!" the woman that was once next to me yelled as she was marched farther and farther away.

I looked the woman who definitely had ultimate power over the facility in the eye. Apparently, she had done the same to me.

"Nice to see you, again," she said sarcastically. "How are you?" she asked.

I spit in her face. The woman laughed.

"I imagine you'll be doing that alot in the next few weeks," she stated as she leaned in. "But only the toughest last that long."

I had a look of worry. But I quickly changed that. In Covert Ops we learned that showing confidence makes the enemy believe that you are actually confident. Okay. At some degree. Sometimes. Honestly, I was trying to fool myself. I'm literally in middle school. They were trained professionals that could probably take me out in a millisecond.