"Sorry I skinned your forearm and burned your hand," I apologized semi sincerely. I didn't trust Ashton but for the man I knew, he had a decent personality. Then again we were both mass murderers so I don't think that said much. "But I accept your apology but excuse me if I'm still in a pissy mood after having my ribs broken again."
"How did you break them the first time?" Ashton asked me in a softer tone. I pressed gently on the tender spot to see if they were actually broken but just winced at the pain. Most types of discomfort I could deal with but it was the memories triggered by my touch that made my face shrivel up in torment. "Let me do it," Ashton suggested for the second time tonight.
I didn't fight him because he would only insist. Ashton was the stubborn type and that was a fact. I turned around and leaned back slightly against the counter as Ashton stood in front of me. He crouched down on the balls of his feet and slowly pressed his thumb along my rib, the third one from the bottom on the right. I bit down on my tongue to focus on something else other than the gritty feeling in my torso. "It's not broken, just bruised. I can feel the scar tissue, thought," Ashton pointed out thoughtfully while prodding the blue and yellow bruise slightly bigger than a softball. He had to check because if it was broken I was in danger of puncturing a lung. Based on our experience, both of us could tell if a bone was broken based on the grittiness and the type of bruise. It took skill but there aren't exactly MRI or X-ray machines in the middle of the desert. "You should be okay in two or three weeks," he told me confidently while standing up fully, towering over my short five foot four frame. I had barely been allowed in the infantry division of the military. I made it by two inches. I hated being short; it always put me at a disadvantage in the field and a fight. Ashton was like a giant compared to me. Part of me was shocked he was in an elite military force while standing at six foot two. Then again, he had some incredible talents.
"How'd you break them the first time, again?" He asked me, not forgetting how I had ignored his question.
I simply shrugged. "Why is every one that calls you by your real first name dead? We all have secrets, Naifeh." Ashton's eyes hardened like the sternness of his sharp jaw, ready to defend himself from not only the mortal world but whatever was running through his mind. I could see the dark emotion swirling behind his eyes. It was ironic we could bring down a plane of eight hundred people without blinking yet the smallest thing could send us into a spiral. Torture me? Sure. Take my pride? Sure. Ruin my life? Fine. But touch the one button that makes me flip and it's over.
Sensitive creatures, we were.
I watched with guarded eyes as he raised his hands in defeat mockingly, signalling the end of that conversation. "Thanks for checking me out, even if you did cause it," I changed the subject, brushing past Ashton again to reach one of the white drawers in the bathroom. I realized Ashton had used my real first name and I had used his last and that was risky. I wasn't too worried, though. We swept the apartment for bugs almost every day. Besides, we were trying to keep the fact that we were spies under wraps. To most people, our identity wouldn't matter if they were already listening in on us. We just didn't want to paint targets on our backs if others in the business knew we were in the country.
I uncapped an empty aspirin pill bottle, slipping out the dog tags with my information printed in rows. Zelin, Athena E. 254-15-794, A Pos, No Preference. I slipped the cool metal necklace over my head, letting it rest between my cleavage as it hung down on my hot skin. "You know every public record says you're dead," Ashton brought up. It doesn't surprise me he looked me up. Every good agent does their research. "But on security clearance required government servers your DoD ID number still comes up as alive." That eight-digit number almost got me killed.
"Doesn't surprise me. Though they officially 'killed' me on the public record at sixteen in Seal training. Then they actually killed me in Syria, and then Saudi Arabia, and now I'm still on the run somehow. They probably think I'm immortal at this point," I mused with a cheerful glint in my eyes. Fuck the government. They screwed me over more times than I could count.
"Then why do you wear the dog tags?"
"Because I'm a vindictive bitch and when I die, I want to cause problems." My tone was harder than it had been all day, portraying how deeply I truly resented my former government. I hoped they burned.
"Whether it's the fucking Kremlin using my dog tags, MI6 with my tattoos, or the CIA with the code on the titanium pin in my right arm; whoever kills me is going to set all hell loose. An American spy, a terrorist, a traitor; it all depends on where I get killed. But I want everything to crumble around me. Let the government deal with the repercussions of abandoning loyal people. They wanted me dead so when I die, I'll let them deal with my body and the problems it causes. They fucking deserve it."
"After all the conflicts they've made worse, the problems they inserted themselves into, the innocent people they kill, and the loyal soldiers they give ultimatums of death than kill anyway; they deserve every ounce of inconvenience I give. So fuck them. When I die, I'm taking them down with me."
There was a familiar glint in Ashton's eyes where he knew it or not. Ashton knew exactly what I was talking about even if it wasn't the same situation. He left his country to fight for the side of his oppressor for the sake of money and keeping his family safe. I fought for a country that betrayed me and ruined my life more times than I could count. The spark in his sapphire pupils was the same one that started the fire. The fire that destroyed anything in its path purely for the sake of destruction and finding more fuel; money. Destroy the world's governments before they destroy you.
Anarchists.
We are anarchists in their purest form and I couldn't be more elated about finding someone else to laugh with me as the world smoldered.
