Codename-Siren

Chapter Two-His Name

Chapter Two

His Name

The night is dark, lacking even the light of the moon as I rumble along the dirt road. I smell like sweat and blood since I've just finished a mission and it mixes strangely with the crisp night air. Just after calling in to report, another rolled in. Spy business is like that. Suddenly another engine disturbs the relative quiet and my eyes zero in on another singular headlight in the distance. I click my light twice, pause, then three times. After a moment the light in the distance does the same thing. That's the signal. I pull over and park, leaning against my bike as I watch the light get closer and closer. He reaches me and doesn't bother taking off his helmet. After handing me a manila folder he's off again. I move in front of my bike to use the headlight to see what's in the folder. Before I can even open it, a photo drops out and I quickly snatch it out of the dirt. Startling blue eyes meet mine first, wild and fierce like an animal in a cage. Next is a sharp jawline, lips set in a firm line, and dark stubble which matches dark hair that falls just above his shoulders. Last is a name at the bottom of the photo.

"Barnes." I murmur and allow my thumb to skim across the harsh black letters spelling out his name. Another moment passes before I tuck the photo in the pocket of my jacket and skim the folder before reaching my imperative.

Asset has gone rogue. Retrieve and return with him. If unable, terminate.

Then there's an address in Ireland, Dublin and that's the end of it. After reading it twice I pull out a lighter and set it on fire, then leave it in the middle of the road to burn. Then I'm speeding down the dirt road leaving the fire to die behind me.

It takes two days to reach Ireland.

I've always liked it here. Green stretches out everywhere and despite the lack of trees, secrets are hidden behind every hill. It only takes me a couple of hours to reach the city and I blend in well. Other than the locals, tourists are everywhere and a stranger isn't a rarity here. It's a good place to hide and an easier place to blend in. Red and green paint chips off the many bars lining the cobble-stoned street and my heels click on the stones to mix with the soft words of others whispering into their beers. This particular street is out of the way from the main tourist attractions, but still houses a medium sized crowd. Evening is descending and as people get out of work more flood into the bars. It's the perfect place and time to stock up on food and maybe snag a drink if you're a rogue assassin.

I wonder to a decently packed bar and sit on a red leather barstool with brass buttons pressed into the sides. The bar is pine painted black and tells the story of many nights past; scuffs from dancing on the top, nicks and scratches from the occasional knife fight, and stains from many spilt drinks decorate the surface. My eyes look to the bartender, a broad man with a blonde buzz cut and a scar cutting across his eyebrow, and I raise a finger. "McKellen neat." His eyebrows raise at my British accent, it's easier to fake, before pouring my drink into a chilled glass.

"Whatcha doin' here, love? And without a chap to wait on ya?" He asks in a charming Irish accent.

"Business. Besides, isn't that what you're here for?" He shows me a gap-toothed smile and leans on the other side of the bar towards me, letting the glass slide onto the bar.

"And I'd be glad to service ya into your bedroom Miss...?" A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips when he asks for my name.

"Not today, love. Business, remember?" I remind him and he shrugs, shooting me another grin before swaying over to a small group of girls that just came in. My hand claims my glass and a small sigh leaves me at the familiar chill as my fingers wipe away the gathering condensation.