Is This True?

Chapter 3

"Ah, I'm so glad you're here."

Mr. Woods greeted me with a firm shake of the hand which in turn, quickly warmed my clammy, nervous ones.

I looked around again countless times, absorbing every inch of everything and anyone as I could. There were people scattered abroad the building, briskly walking in diverse directions with different tasks. Numerous people, I had seen Friday, passed by me, seeming to forget who I was. Not that I minded, they didn't appear to like me, let alone want to hire me for whatever reason. Maybe it was because I was much younger, and perhaps, maybe it was because I was much nicer compared to their stingy faces. Out of all of them, Mr. Woods seemed to be the nicest so far despite his intimidating authority. He could kick me off the team if he so desired, but hopefully not.

Even if this place was different, especially in lack of color, I liked it.

The building itself was tall and the large windows reflected blindly in the sunlight. Then there was the car garage on the bottom floor where people were known to forget their parking spot--like me--or more darkly, people who were known to jump off the building's roof in an attempted suicide.

The job was too stressful and harsh on the individual which I had been warned about on previous accounts, but I wouldn't consider myself one to be cracked while under pressure. So, I didn't have anything to worry about.

Yet.

"Well, I'm glad to be here, sir," I answered with a small smile, noticing the small hand of the clock on the wall turn right to the eight.

Mr. Woods noticed my wandering eyes back to the clock, but without even turning around, he commented, "And, I'm very pleased how observant you are. And how you arrived on time safely."

Safely?

My eyes darted back to his figure. The way he said that sounded strange, but it didn't just startle me, it only reminded me of what happened in the car garage days ago.

Did he know about that?

"Yes, Miss Patterson," He answered my internal question. "we have security guards watching the surveillance cameras 24/7. Did you not think you could get by with your little 'accident'?"

I shouldn't have been so nervous, after all, I knew he was just testing my honesty.

"No, sir. But you're right, it was just an accident. I got distracted by my phone since one of my good friends was sharing some great news with me. It won't happen again."

"Oh, I see." Mr. Woods reached for my shoulder to guide me down the opposite side of the hallway to enter an elevator. "I understand what you mean by good news, especially from friends. Friends are a key thing in life. If you had none, who would be able to stick by you?"

My thoughts exactly.

"And besides, you didn't hurt anything or anyone." He continued, pressing a button to the elevator which closed the doors once we were inside.

Again, I only smiled thinking it best to keep my thoughts to myself.

"Just don't let it happen again. I don't tolerate carelessness."

Mr. Woods was a peculiar boss. He was almost the same height as me, but just a smidgen taller. He was a little on the broad side, but more or less solid, his age catching up to him by the thinning and graying of his light brown hair. He had to be at least my dad's age for that fact.

"And yes, my hair is thinning a bit." He commented just as the door dinged open, before turning to me.

Oops.

I need to be careful about staring at things now, especially people.

After overcoming my short embarrassing moment, Mr. Woods leads me to yet another long hallway, with countless doors on either side. Offices, I presume?

"These are where our agents work." Mr. Woods informed me.

"The floor upstairs where we were originally was the main floor. That's the location we hold meetings and conferences. If it's more of a private meeting, we'll converse on the floor above. This floor, however, is where you'll share your office."

"Which one is mine?" I asked, looking through each glass window to reveal a neat-looking office. Inside each office, was an agent working behind their desk, seemingly typing profusely on their laptop.

"Yours?" Mr. Woods came to a slow walk before coming to a complete stop at a particular door. "It's this one." He opened the wooden door for me as I walked inside.

The room wasn't too large but seemed warm and cozy and convenient enough for me. The walls again were a bland gray color with an appeasing painting in one corner. It seemed to be an abstract painting with several colors of blue, violet, and red. The desk was pushed up against the back of the wall, a plush chair behind it. There was also another chair in front in case I needed to talk to someone privately. Then on the right were all of my filing cabinets where I was to put my things, but it seemed that all of my belongings were set on my desk already. They must have known where I was going to be placed. Thankfully, they didn't put my things away themselves. I was kind of OCD when it came to that type of thing.

"Is it suitable enough for you?" Mr. Woods asked me while coming up from behind.

"Oh yes, I like it. Very much."

I approached my box of belongings before noticing a zipped-up bag right beside it.

"Oh, and that--" Mr. Woods started, "--those are your required belongings."

I nodded, pulling out my badge, communication headset and mouthpiece, handcuffs, extra clips of ammo, and another item I wasn't surprised to see.

A gun.

My hands shook when I placed it into my hands, but it was too perfect of a fit. I just hope that I wouldn't have to use it on anyone. I don't even know if I could. After all, I knew what it was like to have a gun pointed at you. It's a nightmare, not even knowing whether the person on the other side is going to pull the trigger or not. Lesson learned, don't take your life for granted.

You never know if the very day will be your last.