The Unknown Subject [Spencer Reid x OC]

XX

-FLASHBACK-

It had been almost 5 years working for Mr. Volkov, and he still intimates me. Every time I look into his eyes, I never see anything behind them. They're just cold and empty. The way he stands when he's supervising training, or the way his face never changes, it's honestly chilling.

Despite this however, he's a fair and honest man. He pays all of his men fairly, and always stands up for us when we make a mistake. An understandable mistake. Stupid mistakes are another story, and I've never been ignorant enough to know what happens when you make a mistake like that.

Out of all of Mr. Volkov's men, I've been here the longest, which means I've also made him the most money, which also means I'm the золотой гусь. The golden goose. I'm also the only woman on Mr. Volkov's staff, and as you can imagine, most of the men I work with don't like that I'm his 'favourite'.

Now it's five a.m. and like every other day of the week, I'm in training. It's Friday, so Mr.Volkov is supervising, and as usual, I have no idea what kind of mood he's in. There are 12 of us training today, and we're running through the regular exercises. All of us are armed with unloaded 9mm pistols, and we're going through mission scenario fifteen. For me it's muscle memory, the newer men are wearing knee pads but I've out grown the need for them.

I glide across the floor on my knees, keeping my pistol aimed at the front of the room as I stand up quickly one foot at a time. The whole group moves in sync, and we all take a few steps forward, still aiming out barrels at the head of the room. The only sound in the training room is the sound of our shoes hitting the floor in heavy footsteps. We all take one last slow step forward before simultaneously grabbing the knife strapped to our leg, and lowering our guns then throwing the knives at the several targets on the wall. I lower my gun and follow to where my blade landed, and I smile as my knife is the only bullseye.

I look to my right and see that Mr.Volkov is already looking at me, and he looks impressed. He lifts his right hand and motions for me to go to him, so I do. The other men give dirty looks when I walk by, but it's nothing i'm not used to. I almost reach him but I hear the man on my right cough the word 'шлюха' under his breath. Whore. Normally I would brush it off but this man is new, so he needs to learn how to respect the people above him.

I sharply turn to the right and grab my second knife from my left thigh. I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head backward, leaving his throat exposed for me to hold my blade to. He's no taller that 5'6, so I have at least an inch on him. I watch his expressed turn fearful, and I look down at the small bead of blood dripping from his neck.

I look back into his eyes and tilt my head, "That isn't any way to speak to your boss, now is it?"

I could see the surprise in his eyes, which only made me grin, "You should feel lucky you're not worth the dulling of my knife," I sneer, "or there would be more than a drop of your blood on the floor."