Fighting it

ONE

Ryna Ruiz wanted to kill someone. I mean, she had held out for twenty two years of her life, and couldn't ever picture her hair turning grey, so she might as well kill someone. Someone bad, so they could kill her back, or send her to prison for the rest of her life. Then she wouldn't have to hear Landry's orders echoing through the corners of the room. Then she wouldn't want to kill someone who was actually on her own side.

She inhaled, thinking through what she wanted to say so there would be no possibility of her being cut off. Because that might actually make her murder someone. Fuuuuuucking hell. "Look, Landry," stay calm, "why is everyone else getting four orders? Five? And I have.. one? A stupid kidnapping. The place is abandoned, sir, I'd just be walking the guy out. I mean, Matthews can't possibly help in a hostage situation, man, you know I'd be perfect for that. Why am I not signed up for that? Why aren't you giving me any.. orders?"

She could almost hear Landry's eyes move around, rolling, before looking back at her. "You know why, Ruiz. If you honestly don't, then maybe you can look at your arm, your back, the sweat drenching your face." His heavy Londonien accent echoed a few times around the room, his loud voice carrying through. Everyone knew Landry was in charge. This was a fact Ryna tried not to forget, but often failed at.

"Right, sir," Ryna looked at her left arm, which had only just stopped bleeding ten minutes ago. She was scared to touch it, if it started bleeding again then she wouldn't be let out for at least another week. Well, that and the streak of red blistered across her rope-burnt back, struck with a whip, from one of their dearest fugitives two days before. She hadn't been able to put on a jacket since, and everyone snickered at her bare arms and white t-shirt, very different to her usual attire. "Right, commander, but, uh. I'm feeling fine, now. Truly." Ryna didn't smile, but if she had that would have freaked Landry out much more. She never smiled. Even when she went undercover she would rather stay up until three in the morning, making a detailed alias, than just smile a lot so people might not suspect it's her.

"Pfft, feeling better my arse. Ruiz, you're to do as told or you will be sent home for the remainder of the quarter,"' he threatened. She mentally cursed him and everyone in the room. Her old "home" wasn't exactly a home. It hadn't been since she was thirteen, and it was certainly somewhere they knew she would rather get stabbed again than go back to. "Look, you guys, I know we're a bit low on numbers, but I'm accessing our old database. I might be able to find any kids of past recruits and get em' to come work with us, for me, whatever. I know we've got a lot of shit to get done, but, there's already a girl I'm figuring out how to track. Eli peters' kid. Alright, so we could be good in a bit. Don't worry, please. Worrying makes for bad soldiers... Alright, see you tossers later on then." He nodded and the agents began to leave, many in groups laughing with friends.

Peters. Why did that name sound familiar? Ryna picked up her textbook and stood, gritting her teeth at the pain in her lower back. She wondered where that name was from. Peters, Eli. Elliot Peters. No. Elias. No. No way. Fucking fuck. Eli fucking Peters. Elijah fucking Peters.

The same Elijah Peters that saved four planes full of people in both the Triesta storms and the Flig bombings. The same Elijah Peters who shot three men through the head at once from across a desert, through a window, whilst driving. The same Elijah Peters who excelled even Landry and Volkov in combat training, with an affinity for sword fighting and boxing. The same Elijah Peters who's wife was kidnapped whilst pregnant and who, when he found them, discovered he had powers. He destroyed the building and everyone in it, except his wife and baby.

He lived through everything, he was unstoppable. No one even had a name for his powers. They were just absolute power and destruction, shooting out of the palms of his hands.