Suicide Mission (Guarded Secrets #1)

7: "Ready to end up in the hospital, rookie?"

Spit Fire stayed with me while I finished lunch to take me to the training room. Raider and Demon had cut out quickly once someone else agreed to watch me for a while. It made me feel like a child being passed around from parent to parent in order to keep me under control. Although Spit Fire was happy to have another girl on the team, even if she didn't help train me, because she was tired of this being a "man's job" and was thrilled to see Sharp Shooter taking an interest in me.

"Why is that a good thing?" I questioned as I followed her through the long and winding hallways. I was thankful someone had stayed behind to lead the way for me, otherwise I would never have found the training room. They needed a map that they handed out to new recruits, then maybe I would have half a chance at finding my way around this building.

"It means you're going to be in a really good standing once you take on a few missions. He sees something in you that he doesn't see in many people, and that's good," she said with a smile as she stopped outside a set of doors and pointed to them. "This is where you go. I wish you good luck, you're going to need it."

"Why?"

"The director doesn't train just anyone and it's never been a new recruit because they can't handle it. He's going to push you to the limit, and you'll wish you had stayed with Demon. Just remember, be yourself and don't let anyone here scare you away. You belong here, otherwise they wouldn't have recruited you, so don't let them tell you different, not even the director," she said with a smile, making sure to get in every last piece of advice she could give me in a few sentences. She winked before she showed off her ability to slip into the shadows, because when I blinked, she was gone.

"That wasn't helpful at all," I grumbled to myself as I tried to see her down the hall. I couldn't see anything except the agents that were idly walking the halls, heading to wherever their training or missions were talking them. Suddenly, the doors were pulled open behind me and an angry growl reached my ears. I turned around just in time to start the reprimanding.

"Sara, you're late." Mark growled as he grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me inside.

"Mark, what are you doing here?" I asked as he pulled me to the center of the room and ordered me not to move. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I'm here to see what you can do. The director offered to train you, but you don't deserve that as of yet. Right now it would be a waste of time for all parties involved. So, he is instead going to watch you from an observation room," he said condescendingly, as he shoved me to a different part of the room.

I was hurt that Mark had just insulted me. He had basically told me that I wasn't worth the director's time, but it quickly faded when I saw the director step into the room.

"Wrong, Whiplash," he said before I could respond to Mark's comments. "You are going to watch from the observation room, your feelings are getting in the way and I can already see it. You will not be going on this mission if you don't sort them out, and then Demon will take over the team, permanently. Now leave," Sharp Shooter ordered. Mark stood his ground for a few moments and then walked off without a word.

"Sharp Shooter," I started hesitantly, but he silenced me by holding his hand up.

"He needed to hear that, Sara. We have to start training now, and I hope that you can make him see that you belong here. Prove me right and make him see that you deserve this chance," Sharp Shooter said as he tossed me two small tools.

I caught them with some difficulty, and prayed that Mark wasn't watching me already. Damon had showed me these tool before, but I didn't really know what they did. He had quickly taught me the basics of lock picking before going to lunch, but we mostly trained in combat. One of the tools, I knew was called a rake. It was grooved and flat, meant to be forcefully slid back and forth through a lock hole. Its companion was called a tension wretch. It had a flat head in order to provide a leverage and hold for the other tools, but so far I only had these.