Operation: M.I.A

XX // Mission 2.0

By the time afternoon rolled around, Zander and I were more than ready to get started. But instead of being antsy and restless like he had been for the last twenty four hours, Zander is collected. His composure is sure and his face is  calm. I'm sure, internally he is frantic, but since it was nearing game time - he is ready.

Because we are spies.

It is what we do. And we do it quite well most of the time. I feel adrenaline flowing through my veins and exciting the bones in my body.

My mind may be clear, but my heart remains wild. It is like my heart and its emotions are on a side mission: deciding where to place its loyalty.

But regardless of what I could be thinking about, now was not the time.

I don't remember how long ago it was that Zander and I were sitting in this exact spot, waiting for our signal to enter the same exact building. It feels as if I have lived a few years of my life out since then.

I pick up the cell phone that our team has shared and look at it one last time, prepared for Rylan to call it off at the last minute. I haven't been around him much, so I don't know how far he is usually willing to go for a mission. In my opinion, going on an eighteen hour solo mission would test my patience. For all I know, whoever he found could be testing a lot more than his patience. They could be torturing him for answers, or they could have eliminated him already.

And that is why my hands were shaking.

"Carter, you are fine." Zander says it as if it is fact, even though he knows the opposite is true. I glare at him for a short moment and then breathe in and out deeply. I shake my hands out and stretch out my neck. "You are fine."

I don't glare at him when he says the same words again. I know that if I just believed him, and believed in myself I could be fine. "Why aren't you freaking out?" I ask him defensively.

I see him bite the inside of his mouth. It must hurt, but I doubt he can feel any pain right now due to the adrenaline. "I don't know," he mumbles.

I know how he feels. Sometimes you are feeling too much and can't process a simple fact that your best friend may or may not be dead.

We ditch the conversation and get out of the car. On the ride here, we efficiently decided that we would go in the exact same way. So I run across the street and rest my back against the wall, letting Zander peek in. He opens the door and I follow him in.

I think of how much knowledge we have gained since we did this last, and I am disappointed. It seems as if there is simply nothing to know.

I sweep the room with my eyes, certain to make sure I am aware of myself and my surroundings. Same old, same old. It appears as if nothing has changed. Same fake front. After we decide our examinations are conclusively worthless, Zander types in his BOSS code to the same computer. Standing behind him, I look over his shoulder at the screen. We both stare at the numbers Zander just entered. "Press enter," I say.

"I did," he whispers, annoyed. He does it again, anyway. And again.

Then he slams a fist on the table, creating an echoing sound. "What the h-"

"Shut up," I say as I push a hand against his chest to move him out of my way. I place my fingertips on the keyboard and enter my own code instead. Still, there is no recognition from the computer.

I see Zander constantly looking in every direction, keeping watch. I huff and kneel to the ground to face cupboards with very old paint peeling off of them. I open them and find the hardware. I stare at a mass of wires and pieces.