agent 99 - h.s.

one

Slow footsteps echo through the dilapidated alleyway. The pistol hangs surely in her grasp, as familiar as her own hand. Her hazel eyes travel upward, scanning the fire escape and the rooftops of the adjacent buildings. Nightfall shields a majority of the terrain, making the mission more difficult but all the more worth it.

“I know you’re here, Iris,” she calls out with confidence. Her fingers tighten around the handle of the gun as she takes another look around.

Her steps come to a sudden halt. A second pair of footsteps pierces the falling silence. She whips around to face Iris who already has her gun cocked and ready. Moonlight glints off Iris’ pale blue eyes as she grins. “Bye, sis.”

Before she can pull the trigger, the alleyway fades away, revealing a large warehouse storage room.

“What was that, Violet?” Iris tears off her helmet and laughs. “Scared of a little paint?” She holds up the simulator gun, which could kill in the simulator, but was merely a paintball gun in reality.

“I didn’t stop the simulation,” Violet retorts, tossing her helmet on the concrete floor.

“Then who-”

“We did.” A deep voice calls from the corner of the room. The girls turn to view the source of the voice. Two men in suits stand very still, their features stoic. From their appearances alone, the sisters know that they are not Agents, but the aura of importance that surrounds the men contradict that notion.

“And why exactly?” Iris questions, confusion lacing her voice.

“You’re needed in headquarters immediately,” the taller man says.

The atmosphere of the conversation shifts then. Neither Iris nor Violet says another word. With a wary look to each other, the sisters know now where the aura of importance came from, and obediently, they follow the men out of the simulator and into the hallway.

Receiving a call from headquarters isn’t exactly common. Violet had only been to headquarters once before, during their initiation into the Agency. The unofficial FBI, as they called it. The Agency takes on cases the feds don’t know about, or want to know about. In essence, they do the FBI’s dirty work, and that’s what drew Iris and Violet into the job in the first place. There is so much the government hides: underground scandals, uprisings, even corruption within the government itself.

It can be overwhelming, at times, to know just how much evil lies beneath every surface, but Iris thrives on it – lives off of knowing that she’s making a difference, one mission at a time. You could say that she is more practical in regards to their choice of occupation than her younger sister. The Agency is necessary; therefore, it is only right to treat it with respect.

Violet is convinced Iris only does so to show her up.

According to Violet, rules can not and do not exist. No one can write a step by step manual to take down a mobster. As long as the job is done right (as Violet assures it will), there is no reason for rules. Violet has not been allowed on a real mission since they joined the Agency (they say for safety reasons, Iris says for obvious reasons). Stuck in the Agency building, doing mindless research while Iris is out in the field clutching her list of rules; that’s enough to drive anyone mad.

But this call to headquarters can be her big break. She can finally be her sister’s partner like they had envisioned years ago. She’ll be fighting real bad guys, not computer generated dummies in the simulator. She’ll get an Agent number, and with it (maybe, finally), the respect she deserves.

They ride the elevator to the top floor of the building. When the door opens, the men lead the sisters through a series of winding hallways and locked doors. As they walk, Violet eyes the framed portraits of the countless fallen Agents that decorate the bland walls, with nothing but their number underneath to remember them. The Agency only allows 100 Agents at a time, meaning when one falls in the field, another takes their number and place. It’s an efficient system, using numbers 0-99 to keep track of the Agents. Numbers are better than names for this job; less messy. Emotional connections, friendships, even acquaintances are looked down upon in the Agency. They can obscure judgement when out in the field, jeopardizing the mission at hand. “We have work to do,” as the Agency founder always used to say.