The Assassin

bosley

(Next day, 9:00 AM, Section 31 Headquarters)

Santana flutters hers eyes open, and rubs them as she sits up to get out of bed. Today is another training day for her, but first, she needs to break the news about the blondie to Bosley. It is not going to be pretty. 

She goes into the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth, then she brushes her hair and straightens it, so that it will be easy for her to tie her hair up during training. She walks out of the bathroom and into her walk-in closet to pick out her outfit for today. She picks a standard black jumpsuit for work, and packs extra clothes in a duffel bag for when she'll start to sweat later. 

As she walks downstairs and finds Bertram, their headquarters butler, preparing breakfast for their team. 

"Good morning, Bertram. What's for breakfast?"

Bertram looks up from the kitchen as she walks down the stairs, and replies, "Morning, Ma'am. We will be having waffles, bacon, and eggs for today. I take it you are going to be training again, today? I'll make sure you eat light this morning."

"Yeah. That stupid mission in New York is going to take a lot out of me. But, before I head downstairs to the facility, I need to tell Bosley what happened yesterday. Did you hear?"

"I might have heard Blaine freaking out about it late last night, Ma'am. May I ask what happened?"

"Bertram, how many times do I have to tell you... Call us by our first names, you're a part of our family too." She gives him a meaningful smile and continues on to explain the events of the previous day.

"Well, Blaine and Artie went out for a simple mission. Just needed to take somebody out. Quick and easy. Right?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"It's Santana, Bertram. Anyway, Blaine somehow forgot to close the fucking door so some blondie saw the whole thing go down. The body dragging and disposal. Everything. He kept rambling on about all the blood and it was super annoying but-"

"Did they take her out? That's protocol. You know that."

"Oh trust me, I know. But apparently Hair Gel just didn't let that slip through his fucking mind."

"Santana, Bosley is going to be mad. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, but I just have to push the idea that it wasn't my fault. I'll make sure they are careful next time."

Santana quickly downs her breakfast, the nerves building up inside of her. She might just shit herself today. She tries her best to make sure that she and her team, never, ever, slip up. When they do, shit gets bad. They get barred from missions for however long Bosley decides, which usually ends up being more than a couple weeks, which drives them mad. Whoever is at fault usually gets a good beating from one of Bosley's goons, but it's not as bad as what their job puts them through. What mostly gets to them is how disappointed Bosley gets because of them. 

Bosley has practically been their mother, most of them since 14. They were each scouted individually by her, and she gave them whatever they asked for: cars, food, toys, jewelry; as long as they did what their job proposed to them. Even though she hasn't been around much since most of them got older, they still know that she would do anything to help them.

(10:12 AM, Bosley's office)

Santana clears her throat and clenches her jaw as she raises her first to knock on Bosley's door. 

"Come in!" she hears muffled from the other side. 

She takes a deep breath and steps inside Bosley's office. It's a large office. Windows go from the ceiling, all the way down to the floor. You can see just about every single building of Los Angeles form the view. She never gets tired of walking in there. There are plants and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Large flat screen TV's showing surveillance and news line the back walls of the office. A bar is built into the left side of the room, for easy access to any drinks Bosley desires.