BULLETPROOF

ix. adrenaline

Michael's never this afraid his entire life, unless we go back to the day he found out his parents were dead. Yes, he's scared shitless.

He received a call from chief this morning, saying that he should've earned Calum's trust by now, because a week had passed and the mission only has a span of a month. His boss said that he's showing too much vulnerability to the celebrity, and the enemies, if he keeps on continuing the good guy next door act. He even said it's not doing anything beneficial to the mission, but of course michael had to correct him on that, since it clearly helped in gaining calum's trust and removing his doubt on the blonde haired boy after finding out that he's not just a university nerd student, but also a secret agent. The chief understood what he's trying to point out, but couldn't help but roll his eyes since michael is starting to blabber again, which is an irritating trait he finds in him.

So he interrupted the young agent without caring. "Alright, alright! Have it your way, Clifford." He sighed. "But in exactly an hour the other agents will be dressed and will be at your door to fetch you."

"Where to, chief?" Michael found himself asking, chewing on his bottom chapped lip. He starts pacing around his room to get the things he usually need at meetings, such as a pad and a pen, some first aid kit, and the case that contains his trusted deadly weapons that comes to his aid at the unexpected times. He already has a guess that it's to the old building they usually have their weekly meetings at, but no, it was more serious than that.

"To the headquarters."

And michael almost pissed himself.
-

A huge building made of stone and steel. That's what their headquarters looked like. It's only Michael's, what, fifth or sixth time going here for the past years of his agent life. The agents usually go here to fix some issues with their papers; if they need to fake a person, a background, or when preparing for an undercover mission. It could be that, or the one thing Michael dreads the most.

Training.

Michael looks behind him and sees a lonely winding road and vast amount of large trees covering the place. They parked the car half a mile away, but is still within their property, just in case they're followed. Michael thinks it's stupid. They're just tiring themselves out by walking when there's a car to serve its goddamn purpose in life. He makes a face and sighs like an old man.

"I can't help but feel like I'm some sort of an avenger or something." He murmurs, which makes Jack beside him burst out laughing.

"Pardon? What did you say?" Marina, the British agent behind them politely asks with interest. She raises an eyebrow at Jack's loud cackles, he was either overacting or just a really happy person, she thinks. Michael looks like he isn't answering that, so Jack turns to Michael and hits his arm playfully before answering her, "He said that he feels like a fucking avenger!"

"Only god knows what goes on in that little head of yours!" Jack shakes his head, amused.

"Fuck off, Jack-ass." Pete snorts at the same time Alex does. They keep on looking forward, a few chuckles escaping here and there, but Michael's already drowning in his own imagination, seeing himself doing the incredulous but amazing stunts that always saves a sexy babe in danger, or him having supernatural powers like flying, or being invisible to the world. God, Marvel comics keep him so alive.

"Well, that's acceptable if you minus the Hydras.." Halsey trails off. "Or the mighty tesseract!" Marina finishes with a snicker. She earns a light shove from the blonde in return.

The group erupts in laughter once again, to michael's dismay, but when they reach the entrance of the massive building their chief silenced them all.