Seeing Red

Chapter 1

I took a deep breath and peered out across the city, the day faded and New York City nightlife took over. I knelt and started setting up shop, slipping in my earpiece.

"Maestra is online," I announced, waiting for my teammates to join.

Pre-setting a mission could be crucial to our victory. A slight miscalculation, like an incorrect angle with a gun, could be disastrous and jeopardize my entire crew. Though I hardly feared that. Today marks my 100th. It is a pretty high achievement, personally and rank-wise. I was rather young to have so many missions on the books, but I have been doing this for years. Killing is all that I have ever known. It is my DNA.

Moments later I heard a familiar voice check in.

"Viper è in linea." David preferred to speak Italian during missions. I often wondered why, and I often summed it up to the fact that very few could pick up on what he was saying. The only time I hear him shift is in urgency.

Just waiting for Parker, but I know where he's at. He waits, arms crossed, at the door behind me. Scanning the area and prepping for a quick escape or potential threats that could come directly at me.

"Scaltro è online." The final voice rings through.

Jamie, Agent Spetta, doesn't have to buzz in because without him we wouldn't be clued into each other's conversations.

I took a moment to confirm everyone's presence before unfolding what I needed to do.

Like that, everything has fallen right into place, just as it has for years now. We've been set as a team from the earliest of training until now. They're my family, not all my blood, but I can't tell the difference.

Staring coldly through the scope, I waited for my target to enter my range. These missions were second nature to me. My team was strategically positioned nearby, prepared for any potential compromise. We'd never been caught off-guard, though errors had occurred. I'd never missed a shot. Ever.

David is a few buildings over, across from me, he is back up. If I don't make the shot, he will. His job is to cover me afar and alert Parker of any air actions that he sees.

"Target exiting vehicle," David reported.

"Target accompanied by four. Two leading, four paces ahead, and two trailing, two paces behind. Maestra, you have less than a second for a successful shot."

My finger hovered over the trigger. "Do what you know best," I muttered to myself.

The girl moved into my line of sight; I hesitated. My moral compass wavering. A silent battle began in my mind, a child started walking between the men. This couldn't be right, these aren't the kinds of people we're after.

"Maestra take the shot!" The girl slipped past, I couldn't pull the trigger. A whistle came from the eight-story building across the street and immediately the impact of the bullet sent her to the ground.

David completed the mission. David shot the girl.

One would hope that seeing red would mean madly in love or even just a painful injury. While some "seeing red" moments have begun that way, they always lead to a physical response.

There are striking moments in my life when I have been captured by those feelings. What do I mean by that? I mean I felt nothing more than rage, all communication was lost - sight going blank and seeing red.

This time I had lost it, air leaving my lungs. My blood boiling and despite my futile attempts at calming myself, there was no going down from here. I stood on top of the building finding myself lost in a fit of rage. I kicked myself back from the edge of the building, a list of profanities left my mouth and the sirens started to sound from blocks away.