The Runaways - Kaylor

1

"You're supposed to be blocking my attack," the brunette forces through gritted teeth, her patience wearing thin as another one of her punches goes through to collide with her opponent's nose.

If it were up to her, she'd be doing a thorough strength workout along with some drills and a 10k run to cap off. Instead she's been babysitting the new recruits to make sure they were up to par in case they were suddenly thrown into an assignment on the field.

At least these guys will end up in the action eventually. While I continue to suffer with the next batch of losers.

She calls forward her next sparring mate by pointing at those in line at random. Her finger lands in the direction of a cocky looking frat boy who tries to show off with a couple of flexes.

"Don't hold back, Coach. I can take it. Bang me up real good." he says with a smirk and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Well, you asked for it.

They touch gloves at the center and their dance around the ring begins. It takes her approximately 3 seconds to back him up into a corner, land a punch square on his jaw before grabbing an arm and throwing him overhead then down to the ground.

"Good enough for you?" she asks with mock innocence as he lay on a crumpled heap on the floor. "I'm not one to be gentle, I always go hard."

"Alright, that's enough Agent Kloss."

It's a voice she hasn't heard from in a long time; from before the incident when she'd been benched by the agency from fieldwork. The mild irritation has gone completely at this point. Now all she feels is a burning rage that makes her see nothing but red and it shows.

"What do you want?" she says lowly, careful not to lose control of the rage all at once.

"To talk. Now watch that tone, Karlie." the middle-aged woman throws back at her. The phone in her hand lights up with a call as she turns around. "I'll see you in my office in 10. I assume you still know the way?"

Karlie manages a weak nod. Her blood is still pounding in her ears but all she can hear are the very words that sent her life into a downward spiral, the words that broke her and continue to haunt her dreams, from the last time she stepped into that woman's office.

"He's gone off the grid somewhere off the coast of Panama. I'm sorry Karlie, but the laws of extradition cease to exist in those islands."

"So what!? We just stand around here doing nothing??"

"We'll keep tracking his movements for now. Once he or his cohorts land anywhere on American soil, then we'll bring them in."

She begins to shake then her knees give way, crashing against the cold floor. Karlie never knew what true loss felt like 'til it ripped her heart out of her chest in that moment.

Now walking down that very same hallway into the office brought back those feelings along with an overwhelming sense of dread. She tries to make her features as cold as ice, praying nobody sees just how vulnerable she really is.

Karlie is ushered into the room, surprised to see it packed with people. The dark-haired woman who sits at the head of the table looks up from the discussion to acknowledge her entrance.