No Looking Back

T W O

Justice without force is powerless…

I stared at the words engraved into the concrete wall; the same words I’d seen numerous times before. So many things were wrong with such a blunt statement, but it summed up the agency perfectly. They didn’t believe in mercy. They weren’t afraid to kill if they felt they needed to. They kidnapped kids without blinking just for their own benefit. And justice? They had their own definition. No one who had entered the agency through containment would agree that this place worked accordingly with the law. I couldn’t remember my experience two years before, since they had made sure to wash any memories I had out of existence. But I remember how I felt afterwards: drained of life and emotion. I felt so angry all the time, it was all I could do not to kill the person standing next to me. Then they put me into training to channel that anger into hunting and shooting, turning me into just another one of their obedient robots. It was the same for everyone.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me, and I turned to face them. One of the guards that had escorted me from my cell was eyeing me suspiciously. I didn’t remove my eyes from him until he decided to finally open his mouth. “Have a seat, they should be out any minute.” Even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I knew exactly why he was aimlessly bossing me around. To prove his authority over me. His eyes flashed iridescently in the light as he leaned against his other foot, showing the deep violet color of his rank. I was contemplating the idea of simply disobeying when they office door swung open, and a secretary emerged.

“Eric,” she called softly. “The directors are ready to see you.”

I was lead through the metal door and down a narrow hall to the conference room, the fluorescent lights slightly flickering overhead. Neither the secretary nor I exchanged words or glances, but we both knew where I was going and why I was going there. It was a day everybody worked hard and waited for. Though I had been eager for it too, now that I had it, it didn’t seem so great. After killing my first target, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for more.

As soon as we rounded a corner and met the end of the hall, the secretary turned and walked back with no more than the sound of her clicking heels. I willed myself to take a deep breath and reached out for the door handle in front of me. When I entered, I was met with silence and the steady gaze of four sets of eyes. The head advisor of the agency, Director Caine was sitting at the very end of the adjacent side of the table. His giant leather chair seemed slightly pretentious next to the other, regular-sized, metal chairs. It suited him very well. Sitting in the regular sized metal chairs were chief advisor Director Bishop, advisor of technologies, Director Gansby, and advisor of operations, Director Roncaldi. I met Roncoldi’s gaze, the dark shadows that always seemed to haunt his eyes putting me on edge. But I was able to shake it off and turn away.

“Have a seat,” I was quickly told, Director Bishop’s tone cordial as usual. She sat next to Caine, a file on the glass table top in front of her. They all wore their usual serious expressions, and dark, professional attire. I stiffly lowered myself into the chair at the opposite end, keeping my hands in my lap. Bishop opened the file and looked through some of the papers, clearing her throat. “How do you feel you did on your first terminal mission, Eric?”

“I did what I was supposed to do, I guess,” I said lamely. A smile slipped through Bishops expression as she looked back up to meet my gaze.

“You did well,” she said.

“Better than well,” Caine added, a fat cigar bobbing around in his mouth. “It’s rare to see an agent do such a clean job on the first try, Eric. Hunting is one thing, but killing is a whole nother game, and you played it well.” I didn’t say anything, just watched as he blindly flicked his cigar in the ashtray, halfway missing and leaving a grey film on the glass surface. I could never figure out how he got away with smoking indoors. Other than being the head director of the agency, of course. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he said quickly. “We need snipers, and you’ve proven yourself to be more than qualified.” As head-director-in-chief, Bishop nodded in agreement.