Unbreakable

Chapter One

Chapter One

My Not So Boring Life

“Agent Sharpe, you can go home now,” Sergeant Brez announced as I pulled off my badge and took off my gun holster to put them in my desk drawer.

“Thanks Sir, see you tomorrow morning,” I replied, locking the drawer.

“Hey Hope, good work today,” he said as he turned back around and smiled at me. His six foot five stature loomed in the doorway. His face was worn out and you could see the stress in his eyes. His five o’clock shadow was prominent. I smiled back and he walked out. I grabbed my car keys and purse and grabbed my laptop, putting it in my brief case, and shutting the light off as I walked to the elevator.

The two of us were always the last to leave the office and I’m sure he would be here for at least another hour. The bell signaling the elevator stopping dinged and I walked out of the elevator to my blue Chevy HHR. I put the keys in the ignition and drove home.

I was ready to sleep by the time I got home. I wanted to sleep but I knew I should take a shower. I fixed myself a sandwich and stripped out of my ripped up and battered clothes. There was no way I would get all that blood out. The day I don’t wear all black to work, I come home and my clothes are ruined.

I turned on the shower as hot as I could and stepped in. I let the boiling hot water drip down my tired body. I lathered up and shampooed my hair. I shut off the water and looked at myself in the steamed up mirror.

I used my hand towel to wipe it off and looked back at my reflection. The bruises over my right eye were prominent and turning purple.  I dabbed some antibiotic cream on my split open lip. I wrapped my ribs in an ace bandage and put a tank top on. I felt relieved to put on my ballerina fuzzy pajamas and slip into my semi-silk sheets.

I crawled into bed remembering I didn’t do my nightly check. I crawled back out of bed despite my body’s rejection. I grabbed the spare gun in my nightstand and checked all the windows and doors. They were all locked of course. When I was finished, I plopped back down on my bed.

The moment my head hit my pillow the events of the day washed over me.

“Hope, get down,” yelled Sergeant Brez. I ducked as bullets flew at my head. My bulletproof vest was bombarded with them. The gunman was an arms dealer who we had been tracking for months. The agent who was in cahoots with him had given up his fake identity. I was trying to put things back in order but they were suspicious of me. They discovered my real identity by mistake and things went haywire. The deal was that I would help them smuggle $234,000,000 in arms into the United States and I would get a cut of it. It was a simple assignment, yet dangerous. Today was the day that we would be doing the smuggling. The leader of the group had built trust in me and I was trying to remain undercover.

This was my fifth year as an agent. I started out as a coffee girl. My father Beau had taught me everything I knew. It wasn’t but a year before I was promoted to special agent.

The shooting had stopped. The gunman was laying face down on the pavement. Blood was pooling beneath him. My gun was still raised towards him and was still hot. It had been me who shot him.

Shooting was second nature for me. Killing was my first nature.

I licked the blood off my split lip. It had been a good fight but in the end, the gun always wins. Who would have thought I could kill a gun arms dealer with one of his own guns. All of the male agents were jealous of me because I was the one who could take anyone down.