Enemy Secret

❂ Chapter 6 ❂

I finally made my way to the small shop, clutching my fist. A slight throbbing was reminding me of the tiny wound on my palm. My mind kept replaying the moment. I couldn't focus on any of their faces for too long without my head spinning. I couldn't get the hooded man out of my mind. My mind suddenly made a connection. The day I was heading home from the gym, a hooded man bumped into me. Were they the same person? I walked into the small shop, a small bell ringing from the back of the shop. The smell of floral tea hit my nose. The small shelves were packed with boxes and boxes of tea. A petite woman came from the back of the shop, she nodded in acknowledgement when she saw me. I nodded back and continued towards her. She led me back into the shop, leading me to a small door. I walked past her and entered through the door and down into the basement of the small building. The soft musky smell entered my nose. When I reached the bottom, I heard the small murmur of chatter. This basement connected with every shop on this street. They all connected with underground passages and each shop had its own conference room. I headed down the brightly lit corridor. The receptionist of the building nodded at me as I passed by. I smiled stiffly and continued down the hall. The scenery slowly changed into a brightly lit, sterile looking hallway. I walked into the main room, peering over the small group of people. They all turned to look at me. I instantly recognized them, members of Sector 1. I shied away from their glances and ducked my head. "Shiloh." I heard a voice call. I looked up and towards the voice. It was the V.P of Sector 1. "Get to your meeting." He said, pointing to the hallway behind him. I stumbled over my words and shuffled to the hall. I mentally cursed at myself, "Idiot!" I ran into the bathroom and checked my phone. I was about five minutes late now. I shook my head and walked over to the sink. I turned on the cool water and placed my bleeding palm under the tap. I scrubbed off the dried blood and washed it with the soap. I hissed as the burn settled across my skin. I rinsed off the red soap and wrapped my hand in paper towels. I skittered out of the bathroom and into the large conference room at the end of the hall. All head turned towards me and I felt red creep up my cheeks. Sector 2 Leader, Lark Carter, was standing at the podium at the front of the room. I ran to my seat, the last at the table. I glared at the white tabletop till I felt the blush sink from my face. "Shiloh, excuse for being late?" Lark said, staring at the paper towels wrapping my hand. "Nothing, Sir." I cleared my throat and hid my hand further under the table. Lark nodded with disbelief, but didn't question me further. I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to listen about what he was saying. "No Sector leaders have been changed, and no Sectors have changed ranks." Lark's voice rang through the room. His monotone voice slowly faded out of focus. I sat, ignoring every word from his mouth. "Shiloh? Shiloh!" I heard a voice yelling. I picked my head up in surprise. "Mission and Member Count?" Lark asked, disappointment in his eyes. "Zero, and four." I whispered, looking down at my wrapped hand. "Repeat Agent Cage." Lark said, his voice hinted with anger. "Zero missions, four members!" I nearly shouted, staring him directly in the eyes. Lark opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a softer voice. "Mr. Carter, Agent Cage is needed for another conference." I looked to see it was the receptionist from earlier. "Urgently?" Lark said, rubbing his eyes. She nodded and rolled her eyes. I got up from my seat and shoved my injured hand in my pocket. I walked to the door and left, I sighed in relief. I heard the steady clicking of heels behind me as the receptionist followed me. She suddenly sped forward and walked ahead of me. I focused on the middle of her bun bobbing with every step. I followed her into the main room. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to break the eerie silence. "Nora." She said sharply, leading me down the hall to her desk. Nora clicked down the hall and stopped at her desk and walked behind it. Nora bent down and returned up with a small white box in her hand. She held out her hand to me and raised her eyebrows. I placed my injured hand in hers. Nora furrowed her eyebrows and went to work. Her slim fingers pulled the bloodied paper towel from my hand. The slash in my hand was angry and red. The 'L' went from the top of my palm to the bottom and from the left and completely to the right. The skin around it was red and irritated. I raised my eyebrows. This boy had skills, extreme clean cut in seconds. He had experience. Nora cleaned the wound and grimaced as blood started flowing again. "Deep cut, deep enough to leave a scar." Nora said, pushing cotton pads onto the cut, trying to staunch the blood flow. "But, seeing as it is a clean and uniform cut and letter, that was probably the criminals intent." Nora said, looking at me over her lashes. "To leave a scar?" I asked, glaring questioningly at the mark. Nora nodded, "It's a way of marking, maybe even a warning." "Land 98." I whispered. Nora glanced at me, shaking her head. I told her the story of how I got the mark. "It was so organized, it was planned, practiced." I grimaced, "They obviously had been watching me for a while, knowing what days I leave the house and where I was walking."