Cherry Red | Valeria Garza 18+

las almas.

The military aircraft that was used for your transport out of the States slightly shook as it prepared for a landing, the motion responsible for waking you up from your very short nap. Your chest heaved with confusion in regard to your whereabouts. Your nap might've been short but that didn't mean it wasn't effective. Sleep had been a rarity the past three days.

The back of the aircraft was dark, a big empty space in the middle, as the walls were lined with seats and more room for storage. All it took was a few seconds before you remembered where you were headed and felt yourself calm down.

You were about to touch foreign ground any minute, surrounded by strangers and a few family friends. For the first time in your life you were about to do something very stupid and reckless as it seemed. Your sweaty palms gripped the edge of the seat, its material was rough and upon contact with your fingernails a feeling you hated. It was the same icky feeling you get when someone scratches chalk at a specific angle down a blackboard.

As a CIA agent that stepped into the footsteps of your mother as a data analyst and therefore helping with task force 141, you thought you were easily prepared for such a mission but your nerves had you thinking the opposite. Your heart was beating rapidly, so rapid it was steadily climbing towards your throat, on the verge of jumping through your mouth and into your waiting hands.

All you were used to until now was your small and decent office and maybe the CIA's training grounds that were used to prepare you for these scenarios from time to time. Not to forget all the stories your mother told you about, which were no help at all for the moment.

The smaller aircraft touched ground and immediately went into the process of turning off its engines. You were given the green light to unbuckle out of your uncomfortable seat.

Giving a thumbs up to the coordinator you took a deep breath in and made sure that all your gear was sitting in its rightful place before you grabbed your backpack to wait for the hatch to open. You fastened all the straps, checked the CIA patches on your shoulder and chest and double checked the laces of your boots. Everything was in place.

Another big reason for you to be this nervous was that your mother would be in for a big surprise as soon as she would notice you're gone on a mission without her explicit permission to do so. If she had this her way you would still be sitting at headquarters in your small office typing away on a keyboard all day until it was time to go home late in the evening.

General Shepherd was the one to personally call you up to his office. He was the one filling you in on the operation and briefing you with everything necessary. There simply was not enough time to go over all the details with your mom. The blonde was still operating overseas with Price since being kidnapped and neither of you have had the chance to talk yet.

It was either you leaving his office right away to get prepared for take off to Las Almas or you would return back to your office, vowed to never mention another word about the operation. General Shepherd was fine with either way. He didn't care much about how you would decide, he only knew what you were capable of and how you could benefit the whole thing– but it mattered to you. You needed this. You needed the challenge and change of scenery.

Maybe this was all thanks to your big ego. Going against the will of your mother, trying to prove whatever it was that you had to prove to her. It was ridiculous anyways. You never really had the urge to do so until recently. Not until after you learned of her capture while being away on a mission with Price and Gaz.

How scared you had been at the time when the news reached your ears. Her first time on a mission with both of them and it had gone so horribly wrong. Al-Qatala henchmen had taken her captive on a boat, just as she was busy providing recon to the boys, leaving Price and Gaz behind, unable to help her out in any way, therefore leaving you just as helpless when the word spread to you.