The Agents

Chapter Twelve

They were all waiting for me.

Drake and Taylor were sitting on the ground, their backs against the wall of pictures. Taylor had her head resting on Drake's shoulder, and Drake's head on top of hers. Jaxon was sitting next to them, his head leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. Wallace and Crystal were sitting in chairs right next to them. Wallace had a reassuring hand on top of Crystal's.

None of them were speaking. They were just sitting there, thinking.

I opened the door the rest of the way from where I had been peeking out through a crack. I stepped into the room and slowly made my way over to them. I kept my head down, staring at my worn out sneakers, as I nervously twisted my fingers into the sleeve of my shirt.

I came to a stop in front of them, not looking up or stopping my nervous habit. Wallace and Crystal stood up from their chairs, both of them laying a reassuring hand on my shoulder as they walked passed, heading for the exit.

Though I didn't look up, I could sense all of their eyes were now on me. They were watching me, trying to gauge my emotions and figure out what caused my break down. They would never be able to guess it.

Trying to delay the moment I had to spill everything, I picked up one of the discarded chairs and placed it in front of my friends. I sat down, still keeping my head down. I stopped twisting my sleeve and dragged both my hands up and down my pant legs, trying to dry my now clammy hands. I stopped with my hands on my knees and began bouncing my leg up and down.

I knew I couldn't delay any longer. I ran a shaking hand through my hair before clasping my fingers together in my lap.

"It happened three years ago," I started, my voice quiet and a little shaky. "Wallace put me in charge of training the two new recruits she found. It was after you guys left, and I wasn't doing very well. I was unfocused and sloppy. I didn't do the job I was supposed to." I paused, taking a breath.

"They weren't ready. Heck, they weren't even remotely prepared. But we had no choice. He was building his army back up. He was getting powerful again. Alberto Trujillo.

"The police didn't get enough to convict him. He walked from the trial. Even with the information we managed to gather from the warehouse, it wasn't enough. We had to make another trip into Trujillo's territory.

"We went in early in the morning, when the new warehouse was supposed to be practically deserted. The three of us took out the handful of guards patrolling the perimeter easily. Then, the male recruit broke off to hack into Trujillo's servers. The female recruit and I continued into the main floor of the warehouse. Trujillo's office was off the main floor and in the back, in a row of offices.

"We managed to take out all of the guards we came across and locate the office, thanks to our eyes on the servers. We infiltrated the office and disarmed the security systems. We located Trujillo's ledger, locked inside a hidden safe. I set to work cracking open the safe while she stood guard.

"That's when things went wrong." I paused in my recount, taking in a shaky breath.

"The other recruit's frantic voice came over our radios. 'Get out of there! They are coming! Get out!'

"We looked at each other. She knew how important it was that we get this ledger right then. The three of us had been surveying them for weeks. This had been the first break we had gotten. We could not pass it up.

"I was almost through the safe. So, the recruit looked me straight in the eyes and said, 'Get that ledger.' Then she was gone, running out the door with her gun drawn. Shots were fired and there was the sound of shouting and running echoing around the warehouse.

"I got the safe open, grabbing the ledger from inside and shoving it in my mission bag. I quickly ran to the office door and was about to throw it open when another call came through my radio. 'Carter! Ru-' He was cut off. There was a buzzing sound, indicating that the radio had been disconnected. I threw open the door, drawing my gun. I slowly went down the halls, looking for any sign of life. Another call came through my radio.

"It was the recruit that was with me in the room." I paused, hating what I had to say next. "She was screaming my name, calling for help."

I quickly rushed out the next part, knowing that I would break down if I stopped. "I started running as fast as I could towards the main floor. I bounded around corners, knocking into walls as I did. She was still screaming for help as I ran.

"Finally, I came around the last corner and onto the main floor. Then I saw them.

"She was on her knees, facing me, tears streaming down her face. Trujillo was behind her, holding a chunk of her hair in one hand, a knife in his other. He had the knife against her throat. I could see dark stains covering her body where Trujillo had dragged the knife across her skin, causing deep gashes. She kept screaming my name as I watched, frozen to the spot, as Trujillo pulled the knife across her throat, a twisted smile on his face. Her screaming stopped.

"Then, one of Trujillo's men came in carrying the other recruit over his shoulder. He dropped him to the ground next to her lifeless body. His shirt soaked through from the puddle of blood pooling around her." The memory ended, but I kept staring into space, not meeting any of their eyes.

"Dead. They were both dead," I gasped out.

I paused in my tale. Even if I was telling them more than I was ever going to, there were still some things about that day that I would never tell. I continued with, "I don't remember what happened after that. The next thing I knew, I was back at the agency. I didn't have the ledger, but the police said they had enough evidence from the murders of the recruits. That was that. Trujillo went to jail." I stopped my recount.

I didn't mean to say it, but it came out anyways, in a voice that sounded hollow and empty; dead. "I still remember their names. Charlie and Catherine. They were twins. They were barely eighteen. And I got them killed.

"I promised myself that I would never be the cause of another recruit's death. After I recovered from the mission, Wallace and I ended AMF. We remade it. No more training, no more giving up your life to be an agent, and no more dangerous missions. We started doing small drug busts around the campus. None of the recruits were going to be in danger if we just did that.

"Now, with Trujillo back..." I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. "I can't risk their lives by leaving them unprepared." I finally looked at them. They all had a mix of sad and horrified expressions. Buried under the pitying expressions, was a sense of understanding.

We sat in silence, the three of them still processing what I had told them. Finally, Drake stood up. He didn't offer any apologies, he didn't offer any pity. He just said, "Then let's make sure they are ready."