The Assignment

1 - The Assignment

PROLOGUE

"I told you I'm fucking done." My voice echoes off the cement walls until the only sound is a faint water drip.

"You do this one final assignment or they kill you. There aren't any other options."

"B."

"What?"

"Option B," I repeat.

"They'll go after your family, your friends..." Annoyance and desperation raise the pitch of her voice and her cold, composed countenance waivers.

"There's no one to go after."

"Don't do this. It's just one more assignment."

"It'll always be just one more. I told you I'm done."

"This assignment is different," she explains firmly, urging me to reconsider.

"What happens to you if I don't take it?" The way her gray eyes drop to the ground is answer enough. I don't consider my handler a friend exactly, but after three years together, I like her enough not to get her killed like this.

"Damn it," I sigh. "How many?"

"No casualties," she replies eagerly, confidently. She lights up, believing she's convinced me.

"Then what is it?"

"Recruiting."

I start to laugh until I realize she's serious. "I'm not exactly the kind of..." I begin, confused.

"Yeah, I know this is... not typical." She chooses her words carefully.

"Not typical? It's a terrible idea."

"This mark is different. He hasn't been tempted by anyone we've sent."

"Maybe he prefers men," I suggest, but she ignores my comment.

"One girl made a little progress, but she had to resign."

"Resign? Is that what we call it now? Did she resign to the bottom of the river?"

"The mark," she continues, undeterred. "He is... His tastes are a bit... unconventional." She doesn't deny the other girl is likely dead. Discarded. No longer useful.

"Bit bold to assume my tastes are unconventional." Bold but accurate. Between her ability to read people and the unlimited data the Resistance has access to, I can't hide anything from her. She gives me a knowing look.

"They're not giving up on this guy and I need to assign the next person." She seems sorry, or at least sorry for herself. We're both painfully aware that my skillset is more suited for a different kind of assignment. Shorter, quicker assignments with less personal interaction.

"So I refuse, they kill me. I fail, they kill me. I succeed..."

"I help get you out."

"Fine."

"You'll do it?"

"I'll try," I tell her.

CHAPTER 1

"Don't let him bring you a drink. Don't give him contact information. Don't meet him afterwards. He'll find you. He likes what he can't have. He needs a challenge."

Instead of being briefed on entry and exit points or security systems, I'm forced to sit through a lesson on playing hard to get. Luckily, ignoring rich old men is not difficult for me.