The Heart Stoppers

HELL

The clicking of my heels hitting the tiled floor is the only sound that can be heard from the brightly lit hallway. I stop in front of the titanium doors, gathering myself and preparing for the lecture I'm sure to get after this.

I open the doors, immediately silencing any conversation on the reverse side.

"Twenty minutes late, Hayden," Agent Buchanan says from his seat at head of the table.

"Well, you see," I say, taking my seat between some of the smelliest department heads in the business. "I had gone to get coffee because as we all know, I'm a bitch with it, so imagine me without it. And this line—ten miles long, boys. So I wait a bit, you know, doing the right thing like the civilian I'm supposed to be. But then I said, 'Fuck it,' knowing I wouldn't make it here on time. So I cut all the poor people waiting in line to get my coffee, which isn't hard to get when it's a horny teenage boy behind the register. Then obviously, someone told me to go to hell, I mean, it's a common occurrence. And it took me a while to get here—I know—but here I am," I laugh, a playful smirk on my face as I take a sip of my coffee.

Laughter erupts among the younger crew of officers, the older scowling.

"What an...unnecessary story, Agent Rain. You'll enjoy doing my paperwork because of it," Buchanan matches my smirk. "Now to the current problem at hand: Saige's men were stalking out my compound last night. I don't know what she wants, but if it's serious enough to hit me first, we need to be on our toes."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at all the men across from me who look truly terrified about this.

"I killed Peter Saige years ago. What's the big deal?" I huff out, slapping the hand of the man next to me when he gasps at my revelation. Damn child.

"The big deal is that it's believed that Adeline has taken over. And she wants revenge," Buchanan's eyes drop.

"Stop being so dramatic. Give me two million, and I'll off the bitch like I did her poor excuse for a husband," I challenge him.

"Well as kind as your offer is, it won't be that easy. She's planning something."

I sigh and roll my eyes, ignoring his doubt of me. For the rest of the meeting, I sit quietly, drinking my coffee and only putting in my input when I feel it's needed.

I work for the AFO: the American Force of Operatives. We're a spy ring hired on by the United States government to do undercover missions that the military cannot accomplish and that is too dangerous for the FBI. We are not known to the public; we do not exist. Everyone inducted into this facility is either assumed dead or missing. But it pays well, so cutting ties with your family is worth it. There are many departments and subdivisions in the AFO, but the main four are Spade, Club, Heart, and Diamond. I am classified in Spade, the elite division of the agents. Each operative is assigned a number; I, for example, am Agent 333.

"Adjourned," Buchanan's voice booms after an extra hour of talking, and I've taken it upon myself to lay my head on the table to nap.

Everyone starts to file out, shaking hands with each other as they do. One of the smelly men next to me offers me his hand to which I scrunch up my nose and shake my head to decline his offer. The offended look on his face makes me evilly laugh to myself as he then quickly scuttles out of the room.

I make a show of running a hand through my amethyst hair and grabbing my coffee and files I had held onto during the meeting. Many of the men around my age enjoy taking notice, especially with the short skirt I'm wearing. When I lean over the table to grab the rest of my things, I can feel my skirt ride up. I see a certain lustful gaze from Mark Vergas, Head of Technological Development. We had fucked a few times two months ago. He wasn't exactly my cup of tea, but he was pretty freaky in the sheets.