Agent Kelly Tomlinson

Two.

My mind was in a constant fog after I left the meeting with Lydia and my father, Robert. The file in my bag felt like a ton of weights on my shoulders, taunting me to rip them open. I barely looked up at the people passing me in the hallways. All I could focus on was Louis's name being mentioned during an Operations meeting.

My lazy Sunday was ripped away from me as soon as I answered that phone call early in the morning. Now, it was all about prep. I had a meeting with my travel agent to go over transportation, my new home, and a couple of other things. I had to stop by the Technology Department to pick up my new I.D with the identification of my new alias. I was also told to stop by the Wardrobe Department and speak with the stylist on duty about my new outfits being packed and shipped with me. After all that was done, I had homework to do.

The first two things on my to-do list were simple, yet took a long time. My travel agent let
me pick out my car as long as it wasn't too luxurious. She had been forwarded my alias. I was just your average girl who had been laid off her job. Lame. I chose a black sports car-looking Audi with tinted windows. It was badass for sure. She gave me a disapproving look after I pointed at that one, but there was no way I was turning that car down. Since we were friends, she let me have it, saying I better think of an excuse when people ask me how I afforded it. Technology was a breeze after I filled out the required contract saying I won't use the I.D outside the mission for any personal use. The same picture I used for my last mission was printed on a piece of rectangular plastic. Looks like I am still only eighteen.

Those two errands were able to distract me from thinking of all the worst possible effects this case could impact Louis. I hated that he was being targeted, and all protective sisterly instincts made me want to go on a murderous rage. This was exactly why agents were to never get involved in cases revolving around their family. As I entered through the West Wing of S.O.A and towards the Wardrobe Department, I felt myself beginning to get anxious. This was actually happening. Louis was actually in trouble.

Unlike the rest of the building, the Wardrobe department was filled with color and delight. The waiting room was painted light blue. The white ceiling had shimmery silver chandeliers dropping from them. The table in front of the white leather sofa carried the latest fashion magazines like Vogue, Cosmo, etc.

I was more than relieved to see Marco walk out of the double doors that led to his office. If it wasn't him, then it was the other fashion director, Andre who was also very nice, but Marco and I were close and I felt like I needed a therapeutic conversation.

He led me back into his office which consisted of a large room with fabrics sprawled across the room in a messy fashion. There was a large rectangular table in the middle of the room with sketches, more fabric, and magazines lying across it. Marco wasn't the nearest person in the world, but that didn't make him any less great at his job. Marco didn't only fit pieces together and stock my closet with the latest trends, he was also a designer, helping the company out by making new clothes that could conceal our high-tech gadgets undetected. This man was a pure genius.

As soon as the door shut behind us, Marco narrowed his disapproving eyes at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I sighed, looking down at the floor feeling slightly guilty for not checking in on him in a while. And by a while I mean a couple of weeks. That may not seem long to you, but for as close as Marco and I were, it was basically a lifetime.

"I owe you an apology," I said. "I'm sorry I haven't returned your calls. I've been...busy." It was a lame excuse, I know, and usually I was a great liar, but Marco knew me too well so I didn't even bother to try.

Marco was from Italy. He started working with the S.O.A when he was 18 after moving here with his boyfriend Niko. Now they were both 24 and recently engaged. I can still remember the sparkle in Marco's eyes when he told me about the proposal.