THE ELITE AGENT

62. CRACK OF THE CLOUDS

Elena's POV:

Nightmares.

It loosens its hold, giving you a false hope that it has gone just to choke you when you least expect it. I stare back at myself, blinking now and then. People might see so many things in me.

Strong. Rude. Merciless.

But what I see is a complete failure. I cast my eyes on the marble sink and close the tap. A sigh leaves my lips as I stare at my wet hands.

Red.

No matter how many times I wash them, I could still see the red. The blood of Alex still coats my hands. Ben told me that it was my imagination. But why does it feel so real?

It's been a month since Alex's funeral. My problems have been piling up and I've been deliberately ignoring everything. My team needs me. That's what Ben said.

Will anyone ever care what I need?

I walk towards my bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Meghan and Antonio were taken down when they tried to escape while I was taking Alex to the hospital. Dad knew if not then, there is no way we could track them. He sent out every team and every unit after them.

That day, it was not just Alex who lost his life. Many other agents were badly hurt. Immense collateral damage. Property loss. And dad is facing a great amount of backlash from the government. We are in the midst of a roaring storm in a sinking boat with no life jackets.

My train of thought is broken when someone knocks on the door. I give glance at the door before turning my eyes back onto the ceiling. Turns out, the person behind the door is adamant.

I walk towards the door and yank it open to scream at the person to leave me be. But when I see who it is, my mouth closes.

Agent Forty-seven. Alex's father.

He looks at me, then at my hands. I immediately hide my hands and step aside, asking him to come in.  He gives me a concerned look before stepping in. I drag my cold feet towards my bed as I sit down. Agent Forty-seven grabs a chair to sit in front of me.

"Chief has been concerned."

"About me?" I ask.

He hesitates. "Yes. He wants you to—"

"—Let me guess. Interrogate Antonio and Meghan? Help him with his situation with the government? Find him a peace negotiator?"

"Agent Eighteen, five civilians were killed. The dragons are ferocious. There has been multiple hijack and public disturbances. We have been sending teams after teams but your father needs you during his desperate times."

I don't say anything to him as I stare at the floor. It's always about the world. About the people. About the innocents. But never about his daughter. Realising that I am not going to talk, he sighs.

"I understand you're grieving for him. I know you have regrets. That makes two of us. But that doesn't mean you ignore what he sacrificed himself for."

"I don't want to talk. And I want to be left alone."

"Very well," He got up from the chair as he moved towards me, placing something on the bed. "He asked me to give this to you if the situation arises."

He turned around and walked towards the door. With his back to me, he spoke. "Don't scratch your hands. The blood is just your illusion. The last thing we want is to let the darkness engulf us, is it not?"

He leaves as I keep staring at the small pen drive on my bed. I grab hold of it, planning to throw it away. I am not in the mood to go through any files and—