My senses came back to me as slowly I became more in tune with my surroundings. The hum of a jet engines let me know we were in the air. I felt the faint rattle of the plane as it moved and the cool metal of my seat digging into my back as I opened my eyes. I let them adjust to the light for a second before instantly clocking my surroundings. I sat in tactical gear - from my combat boots to my knife holsters. Someone had changed me into them when I'd been unconscious.
I instantly noticed the lack of weapons on me, my handler watched me, sitting on the seats in front as she observed. I took a mental picture of the plane - the one exit at the back - the small amoury near the exit - the two pilots at the front. I calculated how long it'd take to highjack the cockpit area if given the order or what I'd need if there was an attack and I needed to save my handler.
"Moy malen'kiy pauk, always so calculating." My handler gave a rare smile leaning closer to me as I turned my focus onto her. "Malen'kiy pauk" was a namesake I'd earned in the red room, a mocking nickname to remind me of my inferiority. "Little spider".
"You know the mission da?" She questioned any hint of a smile whipped from her face in an instant as I gave a nod.She sniffed as if in approval looking towards the armoury before back at the cockpit.
"His alias is the court." Was all the information she gave me as the plane started it's decent. It was more than I usually got, a face and an objective, an unnecessary bonus. I didn't know who they were or what they did. The red room targeted them and I followed their rules. If the red room wanted something done their windows would do it without question, without hesitation.I didn't know then, why I felt so nervous, why it, in my gut felt like something was wrong. I shook off the feeling, any weakness is forbidden and hesitation punishable.
"This is your stop." My handler stated signalling for me to gear up in the armour as she stood. I followed taking two throwing knives, a hand gun, and a sniper rifle.I checked that all the guns were loaded before pushing the two into my hostlers as I strapped the sniper rifle to my back.
"He is a level 7 threat, and here's the last known location." My handler pushed a tablet into my line of sight as I struggled into a large trench coat. I gave a nod looking at the digital map and committing the street to memory and any surrounding buildings."After it's done lay low, rendezvous outside the holy cross church three days from now at 9pm, they'll be a convoy waiting to bring you home." I stayed silent pulling the trench coat to conceal the weapons. There was a jostle as the plane landed and I gave my handler a final nod. The plane door opened and I walked down the ramp and into the real world waiting in front of me.
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I searched the surrounding park with the scope of my rifle waiting for the target to show. I lay on my front, the cold concrete seeping into my skin. It was an awkward position and every so often I'd get the urge to shift around so I wouldn't be so uncomfortable. I ignored it. I watched through my scope as a little boy chased his sister through the park. An old couple laughed over ice cream. I kept coming back to the poster pasted to the wall opposite the roof I sat on.
Through the scope I could only just make out the heading and the name below,
Missing - Hayley Stark.
Was emblazoned onto the paper, which was yellowed and fluttering gently in the wind. I always wondered what it'd be like to be normal, to go missing and to have people grieve you. To have a name that got plastered onto paper, a presence people would miss.I snapped out of my thoughts scolding myself for even dwelling on such things as I focused back into the middle of the park. The red room was my purpose, it was everything I stood for. They had given me a life, a cause and I was being ungrateful. I had no place in this world, I lived to serve the red room. But still some part of me still wondered.
My mind always strayed during missions, it never detracted me though, they were trivial thoughts on an untouchable life. When I was back at the red room it was easier, my handlers punishments put me in my rightful place. The structure helped me push unwanted thoughts away, when I wasn't surrounded by so much life. I watched a blind man in red glasses being escorted into a taxi by a blonde.
I watched trailing the scope on him as he crossed the road, a smile on his face as his blue suit ruffled in the breeze. He rounded a corner and out of site as I focused on the park again scanning the masses of people. The rifle stopped and my finger itched the trigger as I trained on a hooded man with his back turned. I waited with bated breath as he slowly turned to help a boy who'd lost his parents.
I scanned his face, the light stubble, the hard brown eyes. It was him. I tried to get a clear shot but the kid obstructed the way, I should have just shot through the kid at him. But the red room had made it clear that there'd be only one death. One death was easier to sweep under the rug, one man wouldn't be missed.
I waited for a clear shot keeping the sight steady as I watched the man take the child's hand and call out for someone. A man and a woman in their 20's obstructed my line of fire as they picked up the child and fussed. They turned to the man fully obscuring my view of him,
"Der'mo." I muttered shaking my head as I rolled onto my knees and clicked the stands of the rifle back into the gun. I slung onto my back again watching the man retreat from the park as I followed.I waited till he turned into an alleyway with the intent of reaching the street beyond before I pulled out my knife. I tapped him on the shoulder watching as he turned, his eyes widening at the knife. I watched as he went to get the gun in his holster before I stabbed him in the gut. His warm blood seeped on my hands as he clawed and punched at my face. I gave the knife a turn pushing it further in as he dropped to his knees now holding onto the wound.
His mouth flapped open as if to scream, but all I heard was a gargling noise as I took out the knife and watched as his face slammed onto the concrete. I wiped the knife on the trench coat adjusting the collar of my vest top as I knelt down to the body. I first searched the pockets finding a wallet and stealing his watch. I pocketed both items - it was better that the police thought this had been a mugging.
I then checked his pulse counting until I was sure he was dead.
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Hiraeth
FanfictionHiraeth - (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past Hayley 'Lee' Margret Stark is a rising star in the spot light. Planing to graduate a year earlier than her...