Troubled [h.s.]

86

After a helicopter and car ride, we reach the heart of FBI. Gabriel was pretty cheery on the road and I tried to shoot him down with my rude marks of how they almost killed me or how fucking psychotic it was to assume if I reached that cab a few seconds later it would drive off and I would be left stranded, cut off from the program.

They call it SAP: Special Agent Program.

"What are we gonna do now?" I whisper to Gabriel and the man beside him seems unknown. I didn't ask his name and he didn't tell me.

"Just be patient." Gabriel says to me.

The unknown guys is about six feet, well built, not very young, African American, in a suit and very disciplined. He showed only one emotion to me the whole time we were together which is about an hour.

When we walk inside and reach this clearing, like a warehouse for planes maybe. This building is huge and creepy.

There is one boy and one girl just like me, run down, cuts and dust along their body with a man in suit beside each of them, waiting for us. There is another guy there too, he is perfectly clean, hair made, expensive Yeezy shoes on. He has a man in a suit next to him too.

"Who are they?" I whisper to Gabriel who has moved so he is beside me again.

"In this room, there are four of you. Look at each other. Observe them. Weigh them for their strengths and weaknesses... because the four of you here, you are the best of the best. All of you managed to pass all of your obstacles that we strategically placed in your way." The unknown guy stands between me and the other three and speaks with a smug grin.

"All four of you were recommended by a Special Agent who graduated from this program. All four of you were then
passed a very intense selection made by us. We looked deep into your history. We gathered everything you wouldn't want us to know." The hairs on my back raise. They know who I am. They have to.

"Then we selected you again, we watched you for days, we observed what you were doing, we observed how you acted." I spent those days getting drunk, singing and fucking. Shit.

"Then we planned these tests. Now, these were based on your strengths. We made them specifically for you. Skyler." He calls my name and I lift my head up, trying to seem cool while I am shitting bricks.

"She is quiet the runner. She knows how to fight up close, she knows how to dodge bullets." He laughs and I crack a smile. Fuck.

"So we made a test for her which involved running from a bullet, climbing five stories, jumping from roof top to roof top and finally, fighting a man with a blade inside of a cab. These were all planned on her strengths. Even though, we had the hardest time while choosing her in elimination process because of her previous work with the FBI, we were dazzled by her talents, not to mention she had managed to run away from us once. Thats impressive." Everyone laughs except the boy who is clean and pretty looking. I try my best to laugh but I am sweating.

"I was not wrong, she was the first one to finish and therefore I rode back with her. Everyone, my name is Logan." He smiles. Logan! He was the one writing us the letters. Every contestant eyes each other and a shock goes through us.

"Now, this is no FBI academy, this is not Guantico, this is not CSI. This is SAP. This is the real FBI. You will never have a desk job, you will never have working hours. You will be trained here to do the dirty work. Things USA can't be known for but somebody has to do them. You may need to go the Middle East or work with a organ mafia here. Thats up to your luck but what you will learn and do here, won't be like anything else.

Carmen Taylor, Denise Sunny, Scott Barad and Skyler Jackson welcome!" He raises his hands and the agents beside us start to clap.

I look around. The girl, Carmen, she is a brunette, tall, dark eyes and has a very sinister grin on her face. She seems like the person you should always look out for. Then there is Scott Barad, who is clean, stylish and presumably very rich. I want to ask him how he managed to pull it through without going out of breathe. Denise is however looks like your average dirtbag. He has ripped converse, jeans and a snapback on. I can see his ripped body under his tight and stretchy shirt. He looks smug, too fond of himself.