Never Enough

5.

Speeding through the London traffic on my Kawasaki Ninja H2/R (fuck, I love this bike. I'm glad I kept it in storage) as I listen to Boom Boom Boom by X Ambassadors does something to me.

I feel... Confident.

I'm revving the engine more as I slide between London red buses, courier drivers and black taxi cabs on my way to the MI-6 building down the A5 towards Hyde Park.

Yes... 

I'm late...

I overslept... 

Don't judge me...

It's no wonder I was tired after all the fucking travelling over the past twenty-four hours and the meeting yesterday. And the chat with Cane after Jonathan and Le Carré left the room. His, "Can I have a quick word Bow... Alone." The hushed, "Are you alright?" I knew he was just probing to see if I was actually in a good mental state for this. He doesn't want a loose canon. I get that. But perhaps he shouldn't have brought me back if he didn't want to take that risk, but I'm nothing if not an excellent liar and actress.

My faked, genuine smile and soft eyes as I tell him, "I'm fine, sir. I just want to catch the person who did this and get Sophia back home."

Damn... 

I even surprise myself sometimes with my acting skills.

The breakdown once I was alone last night probably tired me more, if I'm honest. I just feel sorry for the cleaner of that hotel room. Although I did leave a fabulous tip. I'm not looking forward to the credit card bill, though. It's extortionate how much hotels value televisions, mirrors, pillows, and duvets. 

Oh... 

And the window... 

And perhaps the kettle too? When they charge me for them.

Fuck...

I shouldn't have emptied the mini bar either...

Oh well... I'm back working now, and I got an advance late last night, so... sue me.

I fly past Buckingham Palace taking that sweet fast turn at the roundabout to pass by St. James's Park, with a sense of nostalgia as I look at that building and the union jack flying proudly above it. Makes me all warm and fuzzy, like the first time I swore allegiance to protect the realm. 

Well... not quite that extreme, but you get the idea as I signed my life over to the army many moons ago. That kind of makes me feel really old as I think about that day and the nerves I felt holding that pen. The slight wobble of my hand before I took a deep breath and firmly pressed the pen down to signed my name.

Was it a mistake?...

Maybe...

Do I regret it?...

Sometimes...

But you can't change the past, and if I hadn't signed that piece of paper saying I would give my life to protect the queen, I wouldn't have lived the life I have. I wouldn't have experienced what I have. The good and the bad. It made me who I am now...

Fearless.

Past Big Ben next and over Westminster Bridge to take the right past St. Thomas's Hospital avoiding the pedestrians quickly traversing the London traffic as they carry their Costa cups of coffee and newspapers tucked under their arms. I see the familiar line of tourists pointing and looking around, with their cameras and London tourist maps that they pick up for free from the tourist information centre. The maps are outstretched in their hands as they walk towards Lambeth Palace, and I decide to pop a wheelie.