Agent S 2.0

Chapter Thirteen

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I kept nodding as Leo told me that I control the bomb, not the other way around. He kept telling me it's just a spoiled brat you have to tame. I smiled at that.

"S," I looked at him. I saw the corners of his mouth barely turn up, his sembelance of a smile. "next time I see you you better move up and be in Training Three." I smiled.

"Promise." I told him. He then stood up and I saw a full on smile on his face. It was still highly reserved, but it was a smile.

"Now we each have a promise to keep." His smile then vanished as he called, "Agent Y." He sat back down with a copperheaded boy who just nodded at all his words.

Rope tying is an odd thing really. At best that class is just useless to me because I don't go on missions that need me to survive in remote places. There is nothing to it but just making shelter. I basically just learn how to make a house out of anything in that class. I know how to make houses from leaves, wood, string, corrugated iron, anything. That class is just child's play. I can honestly do everything Mr. Seldorm says perfectly, if I didn't die from boredom halfway through and get extremely sloppy. When the clock finally ticks to the next class I enter another trap.

My next class is language and it's almost as bad as bomb defusal. Language is all memorization before it becomes instinct. I'll admit my Spanish is barely enough. It's the borderline of borderline good. I only know the necessities in Spanish because it is the most spoken language behind English and Chinese. Basically if I found myself in a footchase in Mexico I can barely skitter out, "¿Dondé está la persona en la cuadro?". 

Leo however is better at everything that I'm already stupendous at. When trainers and teachers gawk at me they take notes and rethink lesson plans when Leo does the same task. Also everything that I lack Leo can teach. This is shown at bomb defusal. I suck at it while Leo assists Clad and teaches the class along with her. 

Leo is also amazing at language. He sounds like a native in Italian, French and Spanish. If he winds up in an undercover mission that makes him have to order in French then he can easily say, "Non légumes, s'il vous plaît". If he feels like being being cocky and sacrcastic then he'll hold a man in Italy at gunpoint and ask, "Tu che cosa fai?" Where I excel where it involves instinct Leo makes it look like everything they teach at the Agency is wired in him. It's as if he's a tall and handsome computer walking around that stores everything by just the single mention of it. If I feel like doing something I do it right. If Leo feels like doing something he does it flawlesslty, accurately, precisely, perfectly and pristinely. 

Then Projectiles happen. Ah Projectiles I think as I walk over to the Gun Range.

"S." Mr. Cruiz says with half his mouth crooked into a smile. "You know the basics." I smirk. "Ten second revolver," he says. I walk to the left and I see agents lined up at a jet black gun range with outlines of people missing heads and hearts at every single strip. The targets vary in distance and the agents use all sorts of guns but overall if the targets were real they'd be down in one shot.

I get to a wall that is adjacent to where a separate strip would be for shooting but isn't there. It has a tablet mounted on the wall with a setion of the wall next to it that looks like it was replaced. I type in revolver into the tablet and the odd section sinks down into the wall and out comes a shiny silver barell with a black grip. I get the revolver and take a deep breath. I have to empty all six chambers in ten seconds. I spin the cylinder and walk back as it makes a widing sound. I find my strip where Cruiz is waiting with a timer in hand "Ready?" He asks. I pull down the hammer and nod. I see my target drop from the ceiling. "Go." I fire my shot at the chest first. The recoil doesn't surprise me, however I'm short so it's a bit too much so I let the gun take my arms over my head. I ricochet from the recoil and take another shot a little more  towards the left as my shot was a tad bit off. I ace that shot and take another just like it. I finally empty my cylinder by taking three perfect shots to the head. Cruiz stops his timer and gives me a small round of applause. "You're just a second off L's record at 9.7 seconds,"

"Can anyone beat L?" I ask with a smile.

'Well I can sweetie. Do you doubt me that much?" Cruiz teases.

Mr. Cruiz isn't really a teacher to me. He's like a friend. He knows he teaches the most essential class here at the Agency and he knows you're not going to fire like 007 or Leo in two days. He also knows that being a new recruit is one of the scariest things in the world. When I first got here my first weapon was a simple pistol. It was all black and too heavy for my hands at the time. My hands shook even though the hammer wasn't cocked back and my finger wasn't anywhere near the trigger, I just cupped the gun in both my hands as if it were pond water I scooped from a lake. He just told me it'll be fine as long as I aimed it down the strip. I still wouldn't fire though. So he took the gun from my hand and with a smile told me everything would be all right. He said, "See, it's not going to hurt you." He then lowered the arm it was in and accidentally shot himself in the foot. He pretended to be really hurt but it turned out he fired a blank. That's how he got me to fire a gun.

"Now get back to the rack and get a pump action shot gun." He says with a smile. I roll my eyes playfully and walk back to get the gun.

When I get back I ask, "Anything special?" He shakes his head no. "Really?" I say skeptical. He checks something on his clipboard and nods his head again. "Alrighty." I say taking the jet black pump action's stock to the front of my shoulder. As my new target slides from the ceiling I stagger forward as the floor from under me starts moving.

"Just kidding. 1 second per bullet while moving. This is what you get for doubting me,"

I roll my eyes as I take aim while sprinting. There is about four square feet of treadmill in a square at the front of each strip to simulate running and shooting at the same time. I easily eampty my magazine. "How's that, Swiss?" I call him Swiss sometimes because they have holes like his foot is supposed to have.

"I gotta admit Leo is either slacking or you're getting too good." We both smile at that. "Now get outta here," He says teasingly. As I leave with a smile I see him picking up my empty shells with a smile too.