Agent 003

Operation Shadow Strike

Valentina's POV

I arrived at the meeting spot, where Michael sat behind a desk, his sharp eyes fixed on the papers before him. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated his face, revealing a look of intense concentration. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily upward.

Agent 002, Mark, stood to one side, his relaxed demeanor belying his alertness. Dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his muscles were on display, the fabric hugging him just right and showcasing his readiness for action despite his casual appearance.

Michael finally looked up from the papers, the cigarette glowing faintly as he spoke. "We've got a new assignment. We've tracked the Serpents' shipments. Tonight, we intercept one of their major deliveries that you located. We're not going in as police; we're going in as rival mafia. The CIA has its own operatives planted in various criminal networks, all for covert operations like this."

He paused, flicking ash from his cigarette into an ashtray before continuing. "You, agent 003, will lead this operation. We've got a shipment arriving by boat at the docks. We'll need to move quickly. Agent 002 will be with you, and we'll have a few other agents-not top-ranked but experienced."

Michael stood and began pacing, the cigarette now between his fingers.

"Here's the plan: We'll approach the docks in unmarked vehicles. Disguise yourselves as members of a rival gang-the Talismans. Our intel suggests they're expecting this shipment, so we'll blend in. Once the boat docks, you'll seize control, take the cargo, and eliminate any Serpent's men onboard. No unnecessary casualties; we want to be efficient."

He glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at me. "Timing is everything. The boat is scheduled to dock at 23:00. Be there early to secure the area and set up your positions. Once you're in place, Agent 002 will handle communication with the other agents. They'll provide support as needed."

Michael's gaze locked onto mine. "Any questions?"

I smirked, my expression sharp. "Consider it done. I'll be ready."

"Good," Michael replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. This was what he loved about me; I always got the job done no matter what. I had never failed, and I was efficient. To him, I was the best agent there was, despite my ranking.

With that, he stubbed out his cigarette and moved back to his desk, signaling that the briefing was over.

Night of the Mission

My team and I arrived at the docks. It was dark, and a mist hung over the water. We moved quietly to our spots, dressed as members of the Russian mafia.

The boat with the Serpents' shipment was scheduled to arrive at 11:00 PM. I checked my watch and signaled to my team. We got into position, hiding in the shadows and preparing for the operation.

As the boat came closer, my heart raced with excitement. I loved the thrill of missions like this. The danger made me feel alive, and outsmarting my enemies was a rush I enjoyed.

The boat stopped at the dock, and my team moved in silently, dressed in masks to keep our identities hidden. The boat's crew was busy with the cargo and didn't notice us.

We approached the boat and saw a few Serpent's men guarding the cargo. I whispered into my earpiece, "We're in position. Ready to move."

Mark responded, "All clear on my end. Let's do this."

I drew my special knives, their edges gleaming in the dim light. I moved smoothly and silently. I swiftly took out the first two guards with precise, quick strikes. The Serpent's men didn't stand a chance against me. My movements were fluid and efficient, quickly dealing with anyone who got too close.

"Two down," I whispered into the earpiece. "Cover me while I secure the cargo."

Mark replied, "Got it. I'll keep the rest busy."

I used my knives to cut through ropes and open crates, revealing all types of weapons. I quickly took control of the shipment. My team followed orders without hesitation, working together seamlessly.

After taking control of the boat, I checked in with Mark. "How's it looking?"

"Everything's under control," he answered. "Just need to wrap this up. I can see cars approaching in the distance."

I gave one last look around, ensuring no Serpent's men were left. "Good work, everyone. Let's get out of here."

With the mission accomplished, my team and I made our way out, blending into the night.

At the Safe House

Mark and I arrived at the safe house where we had to stay for the night. Even though the mission was a success, we needed to stay hidden for a while; it was just formalities. As we entered the small safe house, I sat on a chair, lighting a cigarette. I took my gun from my waist and placed it on the table beside me, along with my knives.

I took a puff from my cigarette, listening to the rain pouring outside. I glanced at Mark, who was watching me the whole time. I looked at him intensely. Without breaking eye contact, I said, "Don't."

He smirked and walked towards me. "But it's a ritual. We've been doing it for years, and we only do this when a mission goes well."

I raised an eyebrow, my eyes still fixed on his. "My missions always go well."

"Exactly, we've always done it," he replied, smirking.

"I told you, if feelings ever got involved, we would stop," I said, bringing the cigarette to my mouth and inhaling slowly.

"Oh, please. If you dropped dead right now, I wouldn't even shed a tear," he replied, trying to convince me.

I smirked and stubbed out my cigarette in the ashtray on the table, then got up and walked toward him. I grabbed him by the neck and kissed him roughly. Mark then pinned me to the wall, quickly unbuttoning my dark mission shirt that clung to my body. I ripped his shirt, exposing his muscular chest, dragging my fingernails down his chest to his back, likely leaving marks.

Although Mark had developed some feelings, I had none. Romantic relationships between agents were forbidden. Agents weren't allowed to care for each other; we were just there to do the job, nothing more. But even if it wasn't forbidden, I still wouldn't have feelings-that's just how I am. Why get attached to something that's designed to weaken you?