The Heart Stoppers

SMOKE AND STEAM

"And how does it feel to have your suspension over?" Buchanan asks from the speaker of my phone.

"Like I never should've been suspended in the first place," I deadpan. "But I'm ready to get back in on some missions. You know I've been wanting to visit that witch hunt in Connecticut..."

"Hmph," he laughs, "I can almost hear the report you and Hartle'll be typing up... Are you on your way to Headquarters now?"

"I'm just getting off the interstate," I inform.

"And you don't have Zack with you, right?" he asks cautiously.

"No, I left him at the lab with Austin," I confirm.

"Why not at home?" I can almost hear his assumption. He loves pretending he doesn't know anything. But I know Freeman has told him about Adeline's men breaking in and leaving me a note.

"And that is why I so kindly requested a meeting with you after this one. Though it was rudely denied," I grind my teeth in annoyance at his feign curiosity and even more so at the fact that Johns' Hummer is parked in my usual spot in the HQ parking lot.

♣♦♥♠

"Thank you all for joining me here today," Buchanan speaks from the head of the table.

I grunt, peering around myself in distaste for the four men around me. Besides Buchanan, of course.

Thomas Johns sit across from me, continuing to shoot me icy glares or fake smiles. I'd like to shoot him something, but it wouldn't be ugly faces like he's giving me. Next to him is Martin Greig, Head of Mission Financing. He's a balding old man who's brown eyes are kind, though I know he's a rat. Next to Greig is Freeman, and next to Freeman is Hank Michaels, who is called the Commander in Chief of the Club Militia.

Around this table are agents 1-5 on the ranking.

I avoid all eye contact with any of them, except Buchanan who is amused that I have this whole side of the table to myself because the others didn't dare to sit by me. Freeman especially. We haven't spoken since the incident after the Ball.

"I've invited you all to be apart of a special task force that I've entitled, 'The Heart Stoppers.' In this force, you will be taking down the leading most wanted in the Special Projects list. Agent Freeman has developed a formula, that when injected into the blood stream, is undetectable, and it takes .2 seconds to kill. This is what you will use to take over these individuals. Casualties are a blue."

We rank the importance of lives in the AFO with a color system. Red is most important to protect, and it stems all the way to purple which is least important. Him stating that casualties are blue means that taking out any and everyone involved is exceeding his standards.

"Greig and Freeman, you decide costs and operations. Johns, Michaels, and Rain, I want you to tell me now the team you want. I'm limiting you to fifteen advisors because this should be a covert mission. Loose lips sink ships... Reconvene in thirty minutes," he ends.

I roll my eyes and lean back into my chair while the other four rush to get out pens and paper while a majority talk to themselves.

♣♦♥♠

When the meeting begins again in thirty minutes, Gale and Greig have all the calculations and formulas ready, and Johns and Michaels have organized their fifteen people.

Buchanan goes around the table, each agent announcing the work they've done in the last half hour and producing their conclusions; Buchanan writes notes on everything being said.

"And you, Rain. Who have you come up with?" Buchanan asks in a deadpan voice; he knows I sat back and watched everyone panic.

"Zack Griffyn," I say, taking my heels off the table to sit up in my chair. "I want one advisor, and I'm choosing Zack Griffyn."

Before Buchanan can even comment, Johns stands in anger, "She can't have just one! That's a suicide mission!"

"Oh, contraire," I smirk at his outburst and lean my elbows on the table. "Sit, will you, Tommy-" he obliges with a curse "-now, if the system wasn't rigged as well as it is, we all know I'd be number one. But it is flawed like everything else, so I want one partner. I am capable of doing the job myself, but if I'm training someone, I may as well train them extensively."

Johns continues to glare at me, looking like steam is about to fume out of his ears as Buchanan simply nods. "Furthermore, you'll be divided into three sectors. Rain, 1; Michaels, 2; and Johns, 3. Here are your targets-" he passes out three folders, each of varying weights and distributes them accordingly, myself receiving the largest packet "-and where they were last dealing. I assume you can take it from there. We will meet again exactly six months from today. No missions are expected to be completed by then."

"Why does Rain have a bigger packet than me?" Johns whines like a fucking baby.

"Because she is the most capable out of all of you. This project is specializing in her department's most wanted, who are usually the hardest to kill," Buchanan argues for me.

"So she deserves more kills?" John gripes, shooting me a glare.

"Yes. And she'll have even more soon because I'm about to throw you out," Buchanan's voice booms.

That shuts him up.

Once Buchanan dismisses us, Freeman hands out three briefcases and once opened, they reveal syringes with black liquid filling them.

"Now, a drop is enough to kill someone instantly. This can be injected or ingested. It can kill on contact with the skin but there must be a high dosage for that. It does burn and melt skin," Freeman announces.

Greig opens his briefcase to show mounds of hundreds. He distributes them, myself receiving more than the others. And then I leave to tell Zack the news.