Octagon Project 1: Melody Halloway

~-14-~

The entire apartment was dark and quiet. None of the lights were on and not a single sound could be heard. Either everyone was asleep, or not home. Mel had come in through the dining room window, which she quietly shut before sneaking around the house. The target's son was sound asleep in his bed and the other rooms were all empty. While waiting for the target to arrive home, Mel swept the kitchen before settling with a beer that she found in the fridge, relaxing in the living room with her feet up on the glass coffee table. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail and pulling the hat back over her head, Mel heard the front door click open. She watched silently from where she hid in the darkness of the living room as a woman with straight, pale blonde hair pulled into a bun and a white lab coat draped over her arm with a bag of groceries in one hand walked in. Target.

When the front door clicked shut and Mel took another drink of the beer, the target walked into the dim dining room and towards the kitchen where she dropped off the groceries and placed the apartment keys on the counter. Mel purposely cleared her throat after taking another sip and the target spun around with wide eyes, searching the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she spotted Mel's figure standing up from the couch.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice shaking. Mel reached her and held one of her blades up to the woman's lips.

"Shhh." Mel hushed. "You wouldn't want to wake up Matthew with me in here, now would you?" She asked. The target's bright blue eyes widened and the corner of Mel's lips curved up in a sinister smile. "Ah, so you do know who I am."

"I- I don't know who you are, but I know what you are." The woman said, trying to sound bold. Mel's eerie smile didn't leave as she nodded.

"Good. Then you should know why I'm here." Mel said, taking a step back and playing around with her blade before shoving it back into its sheath on her shin and grabbing her gun from its spot on her lower back and taking the silencer out of her jacket pocket, tightening it around the nose of her pistol, glancing up at the target repeatedly.

"Please," The woman begged. "I have two kids and a full-time job."

"I know." Mel said nonchalantly. "Now I'm sure your son will do okay in foster care, or with his grandparents, or whatever." She cocked the gun and lowered it as the woman's eyes widened. "Now your daughter," Mel shook a finger. "Now she's special. I think our agency has a great field position for her. You know, as an agent?"

"Please, I beg you..." Mel cut her off as she rose the gun again, pointing straight at the target's forehead.

"Why are you creating those spinal tech implants?" Mel asked forcefully.

"I don't know what you are talking about." The woman whimpered silently.

"Yes, you do, Amelia Coleridge. Spinal surgeon and technological engineer. You specialize in nanotechnology developments for the physically disabled. Now, why are you creating GPS bomb implants?" Mel growled.

"I don't have a choice." She cried, keeping her hands raised. Tears stained her cheeks but Mel felt no sympathy. She put this upon herself when she chose to use her skills for the wrong reasons.

"Yes, you did. But you chose wrong didn't you?" The woman swallowed the lump in her throat again and Mel cocked an eyebrow. "Who's your buyer?" Mel asked.

"I can't tell you." The woman whispered. "They'll kill me."

"Oh, you poor thing." Mel crooned before jerking her gun in the direction of a chair at the dining table. She sat down hastily and Mel sat across from her, putting the gun down on the table in between them and playing around with the hem of her thin leather gloves. "You don't want to tell me who your buyer is because they'll kill you. That's what you said, right?" The target nodded in response and Mel leaned forward. "And what do you think I'm going to do?" She asked in a low, threatening voice.