Targeted

3: Bagged

She allowed herself to be dragged into the building and shoved to her knees in an unknown place, bag over her head and hands tied crudely with twine. Her breath made the air in the bag almost unbearably hot, and she began gasping.
A door behind her closed, and a cool voice followed it.

"So you're the one who killed my men."

The bag was yanked harshly off of Clarke's head, and she stared unwavering into the green eyes of her captor, "You're the one who allows them to do stupid things that makes them targets."

The leader narrowed her eyes, sitting down behind her desk. It was silent more many heartbeats, and then the leader finally spoke, "Who hired you." She said it like a statement; there was no genuine curiosity in her voice.

"A Mountain Man," Clarke suddenly realized only she used that term, so she corrected herself, "A CEO of a large company."

"Which one."

"Weather Incorporated."

The green eyes flicked to her guard, who returned the same fiery gaze. She returned her gaze to the blond assassin, "How much did he pay you?"

"We had agreed on fifty five hundred."

"What is his name?" The brunette stood slowly from her desk, rage flickering in her eyes.

"Mister Dante Wallace."

"Have you worked with him before?"

"For him. And, yes."

The leader suddenly was at Clarke's side, a pistol barrel pressed aggressively to her temple. It took everything Clarke had not to sigh dramatically.

"You know, Commander," Clarke said, "Every time I get a new assignment, I get beaten. If you somehow think you're scaring information out of me now, you're wrong."

The Commander's eye twitched, and Clarke could hear her finger gently press the trigger. Not enough to fire it, but enough that the metal clinked inside.

Clarke continued to stare straight ahead, "You kill me, you'll be dead for certain within a week. Wallace will kill you himself. He just prefers when I do it," she rolled her eyes, "He's a bit lazy."

The Commander didn't move, so Clarke tried again, "Keep me alive, and I will work for you."

That caught the Commander's attention, and she lowered the gun.

"I'm listening."

"Look, we both want him dead," Clarke said, turning her head as to look up at the Commander, "He forces me to kill for him in exchange for my life. He forces me to kill your people, which means that you want him dead, too." She stared at the desk again, her eyes narrowing, "I can kill him."

The Commander went to her desk and sat down, placing her gun on the table. Clarke couldn't help but catch a glimpse of an engraving on the handle of the pistol... An infinity sign.

"What do you want? Money-wise?" The Commander queried, staring at Clarke intensely.

"You can't afford my normal rate." Clarke said immediately.

"I will make sure I can."

"I'll willingly do it at no charge, in exchange for my freedom."

"I insist I pay you. How much?"

Clarke sighed, dropping her head momentarily in exasperation, "$500 upfront. $4000 flat rate. And because he's so high profile?" Clarke hesitated, "$3500."

The Commander stared at the blonde assassin for a moment before nodding, "Agreed. Gustus here will show you your quarters for the next few days. You'll stay here until we can get you a better weapon and some sleep. You look like you need it."

"Thank you, Commander." Clarke said, for once actually relieved.

"Please," The Commander waved away the title, "call me Lexa."