Agent Undercover

Chapter Three

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Assignment #428.

I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes, breathing out harshly just as the plane hit a turbulence. The plane shook slightly, making me lose my balance, but the seatbelt caught me. I made a mental note to re-sharpen my reflexes once again. I had a gut feeling that I would need them.

Once it ended, I opened my eyes again to see everyone sleeping.

I looked back at the file.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

I could do this. It's just a piece of paper. In a specialized manilla folder.

Yeah, but the last time you opened one of these, it cost them their lives.

I shook those thoughts out of my head. It wasn't my fault and I knew it.

Are you sure?

I ran my hands through my hair, breathing out harshly. With shaking hands, I gripped the folder, and with my eyes closed, I opened it. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again to read the file.

Assignment #428.

Classified.

Casualties:

-Eight teams, six dead.

I gulped and closed my eyes once again, telling myself that it wouldn't happen again. I wouldn't let it.

Mission Information:

Target: Jason Ryder

Age: 18

Height: 6'1"

Family: Unknown

History: Unknown

Jason Ryder has been a prime suspect in the murders of five people, including:

-Lisa Evans (F)

-Michael Rodriguez (M)

-Shelby Owens (F)

-Alexander Owens (M)

-Jessica Kantinopolous (F)

Observe and report illegal activity by getting personal with the target.

Status: Unknown

I raised my one eyebrow in surprise, skimming through the rest of the file. Everything was labeled unknown after that. Unknown? Since when was the agency not able to get simple information on someone?

"What's that look for? What did the paper ever do to you?"

I sharply looked up to see the guy with the blonde hair staring back at me with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. I studied him carefully for the first time, just noticing a tattoo on the upper part of his neck.

That's strange. Agents don't usually have tattoos, because they can be easily spotted and recognized by that distinct feature. What an idiot.

All of a sudden, a painful pang resounded through my head, and I recoiled back slightly. Flashes shot through my head, but nothing that I could make sense of.

He was there...on that day...

My eyes darkened with anger, not at him, but at the memory that came to mind. Before I could filter what I was going to say, I solemnly said, "A paper like this killed everything I've ever loved."

He froze for a moment, presumably in shock, and responded, "I'm sorry."

I glared at him, but softened my gaze when he looked petrified. I sighed and twirled my blonde hair around my finger, trying to think of something to say. If I was to work with him, I needed to be able to know his weaknesses in his personality.

"What's your name?" I finally managed to ask, feeling nervous butterflies in my stomach.

What the hell? I'm not nervous. At all.

But I couldn't help but notice the way he seemed to light up when I asked, and his bright smile that would be able to light up the room full of death.

"I'm Aidan Tomeselli. It's nice to meet you," As he said this, he reached out his hand to give a hand shake. I gazed at his hand warily, not willing to grasp his hand. I glared and looked up at him, and he slowly retracted his hand from me.

"Let's get one thing straight here, Aidan," I started, putting extra emphasis on his name, "You and I are not friends. We are merely acquaintances that happen to be working 'together'," I raised my fingers into quotation marks on the word together. "Even then, I will be doing most of my work on my own, and will only give you frequent updates on my part of the mission. This requires no extra interactions."

He stared once again, probably not believing that I had the audacity to be so rude, when all he was trying to be was nice.

It's for their own safety. I thought, trying to push away the butterflies in my stomach. They didn't go away.

"That is all. Tell your team my message, I'm not one for repeating myself." The pilot's voice came on, announcing that we would be arriving shortly, and were starting our descent. "Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."

At that, I looked down at the folder that I was clutching, just realizing that I crunched it up so badly that it ripped on the edges. I relaxed my grip and leaned back in my seat, after I saw that he turned around again.

We didn't even make it there yet and I'm breaking down.

My eyes started to close, and I thought, Damn, why couldn't I go to sleep when the flight started? Now, it's no use. I'll just take a nap when we get to our living spaces.

So with that, I stayed awake until the descent, the number of hours of me not sleeping having increased to 154 hours.