Trust Fall

Prolouge

I'm about to open my mouth to fire another comment when suddenly, I feel my back pressed to the wall with a loud thud. I can tell he held his strength back - I know he's capable of pushing me much stronger than that; strong enough to knock me out.

But I'm not.

He glares like a feline, eyebrows knit together in a very commanding way. "In case you haven't picked up on it," he spits, the heat radiating from his palm that rests against the wall next to my face, "I put very big value in trust, and I've done my part in trusting you. What's stopping you from doing the same?"

I know my eyes are shaking - scared, perhaps - but I try my best to exert a calmer facade. "Why should I trust you when you're the one with his hand ready on his gun? Who's to stop you from silently killing me?"

The male laughs almost darkly, his lips quirking into a smirk, "My mission is not to kill you, Ms. Becquer. But as I've said, trust is the way things work around here, and if you can't trust us - trust me - we're going to be in a bit of trouble."

The alleyway is dark, and the light from a streetlight nearby casts beautifully dark shadows on the agent's face. I release a sigh, placing a hand on the male's chest to gently push him away from me. Standing a bit straighter, I subtly shrug, "I trust you, but it doesn't necessarily mean I have to let my guard down around agents. You of all people should know where I'm coming from."

"I most certainly do." He says, and I can tell he grips his gun just a bit tighter as if ready to pull it out, "But keeping your guard up doesn't mean withholding valuable information from me or HQ. It doesn't mean skirting behind my back when you feel the need to do something.
Ironically, trust me. You're just going to make things worse."

But before I can reply, he pushes me back against the wall; I can only see a blur of white before a gunshot is heard.