Four Hundred and Twenty | Yogscast Lewis (xReader)

T w e n t y S i x

T w e n t y S i x

W e  W i l l  S e e  Y o u  N o w

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[Y/I] = Your Initial. (As in eg. Agent 'W')

I gazed at the clock face on my wrist, pulling my head back to pan at my surroundings. With my hands rested at my side, I felt the bumps underneath the fitted pinstripe blazer I wore.

It had matched my trousers as well, cut at the ankle with a slimmed fit  so you could see the shoes I wore. It was the gift Lewis gave me fro Christmas; it made me force back a smile every time the sound of the heels clicked on the cement.

A black Jaguar car awaited in the car park of the complex, by where I lived. It was the busiest parts of the day, so hardly anyone began to be suspicious of the expensive car as I walked towards it, a brief case in my hand. The chauffeur climbed out of their seat, nodding with a slight bow before I thanked him and entered the car. 

It was graceful, but the case caught my foot, and I tucked my head quickly before I could hit the ceiling. Great start for a big day indeed.

The car journey to our first stop wasn't short. I had my eyes entailed onto the back of the front passenger's seat, simultaneously tapping the screen of my phone. 

The Latin words appeared from the sender;

{Unknown}: Target is arriving at the square. Please proceed.

I then texted back;

{Y/I}: Duty noted.

Taking another inhale, I took out my other phone and pressed the ID. The ringing echoed through my ears, expecting a confused voice answering it.

"Hello, who is this?" The voice cracked from the phone.

I then carefully spoke, my French accent slipping out. "Bonjour, Monsieur Turpin." With my shoulder, the phone balanced between my ears whilst I tracked the man's phone on the GPS. He was at the right spot, just at the right time.

"Um, who's this?"

"In ten seconds, a car will enter the square from the east side."

He paused, "Is it black? A Jaguar?"

I pulled down the phone and glanced over to the driver, telling him to pull over just by the square. The car halted to a soft jolt, and I peaked through the windows. A figure began to walk over, and I canceled the call and placed the phone back into my pocket.

As the door opened, I kept my eyes in front and let my fingers text back once more.

Target had been picked up.

"Good...morning? [Y/N]?"

"So you're probably wondering why we had you do this, Mark Turpin." I simply spoke, glancing back at the bearded man. I added with a wryly smile, "Protocols of course."

Turps' eyes blinked. He questioned, disbelieved. "Should I really trust you anymore, [Y/N]."

"If it makes it easier, Turps." I started, softening my voice. "We are protecting this country; not attacking it."