Don't Piss Off the Redhead

Shopping for Teenage Assassins: Eh, Can't Fit my Gun in There

3) Shopping for Teenage Assassins: Eh, Can't Fit my Gun in There

I waltzed into a clothing store that I frequented more than anyone should, unless they worked there. Which, in a roundabout way, I did. I was on the designing team, occasionally. Incomparable Textiles and Accessories, an incredibly legitimate cover thank you very much, was T.I.A.'s main source of income. Most of the clothes in here had wonderful little pockets. Granted, most of those were hidden from the general public. I'm sure some people found the various tool pockets, and thought, what the bloody hell is that there for? To be fair, they tended to come out in strange shapes and odd angles. It wasn't like a small streamlined crossbow fit inside a regularly shaped pocket.

I went up to the cashier, smiled, and said, "I'm shopping with Tia." I wasn't sure who'd come up with it this month, but the passphrase was silly enough that I didn't mind saying it. I'd put money on Lacey.

So, (Ali?) let me in the last dressing room, which had a keypad on the side. Sucking on a different lollipop, strawberry this time, I typed in the passcode, and the back wall slid open into an elevator. I stepped in and pressed -2, the main level of the underground part of T.I.A. I entered the reception room, and Meggie, our receptionist, waved me down.

"Your mum needs you in her office, A.S.A.P., hun," she told me. Meggie reminded me of what a proper grandmother should be. She had the sweetest, most timeless face, and even sweeter brownies. I considered her my second grandma. Her demeanour was perfect for fooling people. She was highly trained, and everyone respected it. Rumour had it in the agency that she was the first agent to shape world history, assassinating a North Korean heir, with everyone else assuming that he had died of a sudden but unpreventable illness. It couldn't even be proved by the agency. Everybody looked up to her.

I waved at Meggie, nodded, and changed direction toward Mum's office. I headed through the winding green hallways, grey tile making my boots clack because I liked the sound. When I was first recruited, I spent nearly all my free time in these hallways. At first, huddling in a corner, staring warily at people who walked by, and struggling to comprehend my new life. My mother had locked me out of my room so I "got acclimated quicker" and "went out, made friends." After about three days, I'd gotten bored and started skating around the halls in fuzzy socks. I would never admit to my mother she'd been right. Two incidents of being lost for three hours later, I now knew this place like the back of my hand.

As I walked into her office, Mum glanced up from her reports, and motioned for me to sit down. I plopped into one of the chairs in front of her desk, and waited for her to finish up with a paper. I took out the Rolex, and started toying with it. I also studied my mum.

She was an elegant woman, with her light brown hair slicked back into a chignon. Her chestnut eyes moved quickly behind her blue metal frames, and her fingers worked even faster. She was starting to get crinkles around her eyes and mouth. I frowned. I'd never thought of my mum as having any sign of age.

After a few minutes, she focused her attention on me. Or, my hands. "How much do you think that one will get you?" She asked.

"Well, on the regular market, about a hundred grand. My way, after Rich tinkers with it, about half a mil." I smiled. Yes, I only got 5000 of the half a mil, but I was saving up for a V1 Expert pistol. I heard they were good, and I had vowed to find myself a purple one. Rich was another of the recruits, about a year older than me, and he could hype anything up, and get anyone to buy it for a ridiculously high price. I had a sneaking suspicion his mocha eyes and black, wavy hair had something to do with it. He was studying to be one of our salesmen. I would invest in him before Oprah.

Mum smiled back, mischief glinting behind her eyes. We didn't look much alike in our colouring, but I'd been told we carried ourselves the same way, made the same expressions. I'd been told it was slightly creepy. "Still looking for a purple one?" She asked.

I smirked in response, that same mischief reflecting back.

"How did your assignment go?" She inquired.

"Fine. Idiot wouldn't get off his phone, though," I muttered.

"That's good," I arched my eyebrow at her, "It's good that the assignment went well," she amended a bit humorously. "Now, how has your long term assignment been going?" This was the real reason I was in here, I assumed.

Every so often, we needed to get new recruits. Generally, we infiltrated a school somewhere, or, in my case, we people watched the streets.

"I think I may have found a good one. He-"

"He?"

"Yes mum, he," I said, somewhat annoyed. It had been a point of contention between us when I began looking for recruits. "We need more guy recruits. We have an all of five boys here, mum. And three of them are in their thirties." She rolled her eyes, but conceded that was true. "Anyways, he went to St. Peter's and after school, for about three hours, he roamed the streets and shoplifted and stole whatever was convenient. After graduation, it kind of upped into a full-time thing. I think he's bored. He hasn't been caught yet, I looked it up. School thought he was an angel, when they noticed him. He's like a ghost nobody knows exists. I dressed up as an old lady, walked past him, and he stole my fake phone with a tracker in it. If I hadn't been looking for him, I probably wouldn't have noticed that he had it. And if you're not looking for him, he's not seen," I was pretty proud of myself. The kid showed promise, and he was only three months older than me.

Before you accuse me of stalking, we have to know everything about our recruits before we actually recruit them. For instance, I knew that he could speak fluent French, one of the best in his class. He flunked one or two questions every test to make sure he wasn't actually the best. I had a hunch it'd been a childhood language of his. I also knew his full name was Aiden Alexander O'Connor. He was 1.85 meters tall, and had black hair, green eyes. A pleasant face, but nothing that stood out much, which was ideal for our line of work. He had never been to the principal's office or detention, and had walked graduation with all A's. No one seemed to care, aside from the standard honours list-makers. He played the violin and trumpet, and always bought a latte from The Cat's Corner coffee shop on 50th and C street after school.

"What's your plan to recruit him?" She stated more than asked. She was in agent mode now.

I mirrored her. "Well..."

**************

Sup peoples? Today is the first Football Game of the season! Get ready for tailgating! That's one of my favorite parts. And the food. The food is awesome. Food is good.

Anyways, this one took less time than the other one at least! What do y'all think of everything? PLEASE COMMENT IT HELPS ME IMPROVE! Merci!

Lol I'm leaving the lil notes from past me cause they're cute.

Anyhitherwho!

~KK