Chapter 8: The Director and the Chameleon

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*©2015 This book and all it's characters, plot and ideas belong to @caped-commodore. Please do not reproduce, copy or display without expressed permission from the author, in writing.*

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Chapter 8: The Director and the Chameleon

"Sub-Agent Warski, meet me in my new office in an hour." She must not have realized that I was eavesdropping.

A certain tall blonde crashes into me at a speed of infinity. Ouch, that's gonna leave a bruise, I think, rubbing my right upper arm.

"Chill, babe. If you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask." I smirk at her. Ashwood glares at me, but not playfully, like before. No, she's all business now.

"Shut up. Shut up and tell me why you're really here. And don't give me any bullshit about training. I know that's a lie, and I want to know the truth!"

Warski POV

Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap. What do I do? I can't tell her the truth, I know I can't. Our mission is top secret. Plus, I only know what I've been told, which isn't a whole lot. That, and the stuff I overheard a minute ago, but I barley understood that myself, so that isn't much help, either.

I can't lie to her. Somehow she figured out that I wasn't being 100% truthful earlier. I'll have to distract her.

"Hey, I see you put on a shirt. Not semi-naked is a good look for you." Haha, Kyra. Take that. Any minute now she's gonna turn into a blush machine.

"Thanks, now tell me the truth," she says, not missing a beat. Damn, no blush in sight.

I guess it's on to plan B. As I slowly inch around her, I start talking, "Truth, what truth? The only truth I know of is the one I told the of SciTech about." Yes, my back is to the door now! "Anyway, gotta run!"

I spin around, just as she realises what I've done. I start sprinting, vaguely aware of the fact that she's chasing me. Haha, she can try, but she'll never catch me. I'm invincible! I'm the bes-

Thump! She tackled me! Me! I push her off, making sure not to hurt her, and then keep running. Once I reach my dorm room, I look behind me. She's nowhere to be seen.

Phew. That was a close one. Now that I think about it, this is the first time I've really been in my and James's room. It's nice. And very symmetrical. I like it. Across from the door, there is a sheet of clear, glass-like material, mounted on the wall. I've seen these before. It works like a pin board, but once you take the pin out, it re-seals the hole. You can also write on it. On either side of the sheet there are single beds, positioned so that their feet are facing the door. At the foot of each bed there is a writing desk, one has old school pens and paper on it, and the other has a printer and what looks like a holographic computer screen.

I walk towards the bed on the right. I am guessing that this one is mine, because James has unceremoniously dumped his stuff on the other bed. Hmm, that's strange. There are 3 buttons on the wall. The first one has a line drawing of a lightbulb on it. I push it, and a panel on the wall at the head of the bed lights up. I guess that's the reading light. The second one has a picture of a shirt on it. When I push it, the wall at the bottom half of my bed splits in half, and the two parts slide away from one another, revealing several shelves and a bar with a few hangers on it. Both the bar and the shelves slide forward, so that you can access them whilst standing in front of the bed. I take a few minutes to unpack my clothes and look at what I'm wearing: a black shirt with the words SLEEP EAT TRAIN REPEAT written on it and a pair of black skinny jeans. The tradition of black lives on in my combat boots and the leather belt I'm wearing. It may not look like much, but my garb hides two throwing knives, two daggers, a micro-taser (about the size of a lighter), and a pack of mints. It pays to be prepared.

I decide to check out the holographic computer. We have them at Ops, but this one looks like a newer model. The set up is slightly different to what I'm used to, so I fiddle with a couple of the settings, personalising the computer. Just as I'm about to log off and head to the caffeteria to get some lunch, a message pops up for me.

It's from Agent Damesworth.

Change of plan. Meet me in 15 minutes in Conference Room 7C. Be prepared for a briefing.

Okay. No lunch for me. Thats okay. At Ops, we're trained to go days with out food and sleep and still function properly.

Luckly, I still have time to check out the last button; the one with the Academy's logo on it. When I press it, a holographic tablet pops out of the wall, perfectly positioned for me to access it whilst lounging in bed.

Ten minutes later I'm on my way to the Conference Room. In that time, I took the liberty of pulling up the buildings schematics and memorising its layout, so I have no problem finding my way. The room in question is the third room on the seventh floor.

The first thing I see when I arrive is Agent Damesworth. Her brow is slightly furrowed. She enters the room, gesturing for me to follow. I hesitate, unsure of what to expect. I've never been called to a briefing before; they are usually reserved for fully qualified Agents.

Inside the room there are four people. The only two I recognise are Ms Harding and Agent Damesworth. The other two - a tall woman with dark skin and a expression that shouts "I am in charge, and you can bet your ass I deserve to be", and a man that can only be described as completely and utterly physically average (average hair, average height, average weight, ex) - turn towards me, and suddenly I feel a lot more nervous than I should be.

"Sub-Agent Warski, I'll not waste your time with meaningless preamble," the woman stated. "I am Director Haynes, and this is Agent Johannson. We have a very pressing matter to discuss."

My eyebrows lift slighty when I hear their names. The Director is in charge of both the Academy and the Agency. She makes all the important decisions and knows everything about anything to do with the Agency. As for Agent Johannson, well, he's infamous for his legendary talent for deep cover. Rumor has it that the intelligence he's gathered while under cover has sabed the world not only once, but twice. In Ops, he's refered to as the Chameleon.

I am surrounded by very talented and prolific people. Which begs the question: What the hell am I doing in this room?

The Director looks me dead in the eye, and says something that I really wasn't expecting.

"Kyra Ashwood is in terrible danger. And you're the only on who can keep her safe."

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Wow, that chapter took a long time to post. I'm really sorry. To be completely honest, I kind of lost interest in this story, because it wasn't flowing like my writing usually does. But I've realised that writing takes work, and very little of the things that are worth doing are easy. So, here it is. Chapter Eight. Enjoy. 

Lots of love and appologies,
The Commodore

P.S. I've just realised that if you're reading this you've probably read the chapter already. Oops.

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