𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 | 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

⑪ TIME MACHINE: ⑪

"ALRIGHT, NOW PULL OUT," I sigh to Five.

"What do I grab?" He asks out of frustration.

"What do you mean "wHaT dO i GrAb?" The steering wheel," I instructed, trying to teach Five how to drive in the small parking lot in front of the commission. "You're already in reverse. Just make sure to watch your surroundings before taking your foot off the break."

I have been training Five for the past few weeks, along with some help from my colleagues, but due to The Handler's orders, it's mostly me. I can feel him growing more and more distant from me as more days pass by.

Last week, The Handler started assigning me private missions again, which I'm grateful for. I needed some of my familiar routine back.

Five turns to look back, his right arm moving to hold the back of my headrest. He glances at me for a second before looking back to the road, slowly reversing out of the parking spot.

I watch his features as he concentrates on what he's doing. Not once have I seen him relax since he arrived here. It makes me a little sad but I don't show it. When we were still getting trained by our father, which I'm now realizing was decades ago, he taught us all how to school our faces so we don't show emotion. We've both been using those lessons a lot recently.

A few hours later, I tell him that it's time for lunch. I don't think he's used to the idea of me being in charge of our current situation but it gives me a sense of control when my mind is in utter chaos.

We split up once we got to the food court. I made myself a BLT sandwich before finding myself a private table by the side of the room. People know by now not to try and interact with me so once I take my seat, the men who were sitting towards the end of the table scooted further away from me, making me smirk a little.

I take one-half of my sandwich and take a bite. I continue eating and just as I'm about to move on to the other half, someone takes a seat across from me, their tray slapping onto the countertop.

I look up to make eye contact with Five again. "I have something to run by you," He tells me quickly.

I look around awkwardly before placing down my BLT and wiping my mouth with a napkin. "Shouldn't you be telling that to The Handler?" I ask him.

"I tried but she told me to speak to my girlfriend about it. I'm assuming she meant you," He states before taking a bite of an apple.

I roll my eyes and look down as I sigh, "I've told her to stop calling us that." I look back up at him with a tilt of my head. "What did you want to tell me?"

"We should have bullet-proof suitcases," He says.

I lean back a little at that before taking a second to think. "Are you saying that they aren't currently bulletproof?" I ask, my brows furrowing.

"Nope." He keeps eye contact and takes another bite of his apple.

"I'll speak to the board about it," I nod, dismissing the topic.

He raises his eyebrows at that. "It's that simple?"

"Well, yeah. I'm part of the board." I shrug, taking another bite of my sandwich.

His head bows back, clearly impressed. "She wasn't kidding when she said you're the one to talk to."

I sigh before explaining, "I have many rolls here. Throughout the years I've been working here, I've picked up job after job, doing my best to keep myself busy. At most? I'm an assassin. At least? I'm here helping new recruits." I say the last part with a nod at him.