MED: Minor Extremely Dangerous (The Stone Chronicles: Book 2)

Prologue

MI6 Headquarters: August 3rd, 2015. 1200 Hours.

"004 and 009 are on route." The voice of Ruby Willaims, Head of Minor Intelligence, cracked through the landline on M's smooth mahogany desk, "I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you." M replied simply. His thoughts were elsewhere, and his mind was too stretched to worry about a petty recovery job.

He never realized how much he'd come to dread his office, with its soundproof doors and tinted windows. They were necessary, he knew, for a job like his, but they were what made his job that much harder, and that much more dangerous. They were what made things like this possible.

A cell phone laid on his desk where his laptop usually sat. He knew the call was coming. He dreaded it, but he knew. She'd kept her secrets from everyone, even him, and she was smart to do so. It's probably why she'd survived the past year or so. But secrets have a way of coming out, and if he knew, they knew.

She was close, and that wasn't acceptable.

The ring startled M despite his preparation, but what truly scared him was who was calling. His heart rate increased dramatically as he read the caller ID.

Tarantula.

With shaky hands, M picked up the cell phone and pressed accept. He lifted the phone to his ear and answered, "This is M."

"Well aren't you enthusiastic?" The voice was metallic; manipulated beyond recognition. He'd tried many times, but M was never able to unscramble it. "You almost sound happy to hear me."

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want." Tarantula said, "I'm sure you figured it out too, yeah?"

M pursed his lips, "She's my best agent-"

"She's too close."

"She's just a girl-"

"And she's your best agent." Tarantula retaliated, "You said so yourself. She's too close, and you know it. If we go down, we'll take you with us."

M shook his head, "I can't keep doing this."

"You don't have a choice." The voice was silent, then it spoke again, "Need I remind you?"

The phone vibrated in his hand. He lowered it and opened a text message: a picture of a young girl, maybe 20 years old, with bright blonde hair and scared blue eyes. Her hands and feet were tied to the chair she sat in, and in her lap sat a newspaper with the date at the top. A knife was held to her throat by a faceless thug dressed in all black.

M's heart raced as he raised the phone again, "Please, just don't hurt her."

"I'll do what I have to to get what I need." Tarantula promised, "Will you?"

M shut his eyes as tight as he could and choked out, "What do I need to do?"

"Terminate the girl," Tarantula ordered, "Make sure it's clean. No one can know."

"How do you expect me to do that?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm making you do it." The voice said, "Put her partner on her for all I care. Just get the job done."

"What about her source, Aarif?"

"I can handle Aarif." Tarantula confirmed, "Your job is to handle the girl."

M pursed his lips again, "I'll take care of it."

"Make sure you do." Tarantula added, "Because if Emily Stone isn't dead in two weeks, your daughter dies in her place."

The line went dead.

M dropped the phone on his desk and allowed his head to fall into his hands. He knew what would come, but he was wrong. He wasn't even close to prepared for it.

What have I done, M asked himself, What have I done?

He was startled by his landline as Ruby's voice rang through, "Sir?"

He sat up and shook his head before replying, "Yes?"

"You need to get out here." She explained, "We have a problem."

Author's Note

Hello, dear children. Happy New Year! 2015 already? Feels like just yesterday was April 2013, when I posted my first update in my first book. Ah, memories. I hope you all had a great holiday season (I know I did).

If you're wondering about the picture on the side (I couldn't resist), here's the story: My parents and I are huge Buckeye fans, and as I'm sure you know, they were playing in the first round of the playoffs against Alabama on New Years Day and no one was giving them a chance (so we shoved it up their butts and won). My dad's coworkers are Alabama fans, so they thought it would be funny to buy my dad (the huge Ohio State fan) an Alabama choo-choo train. My dad responded by leaving it on the box on the front porch and refusing to let it in the house, then when we beat 'Bama, he brought it in, smashed it with a hammer, and put a buckeye next to it. My dad for you.

National Championship Bound! 'BAMA WHO?

So yeah, that happened. Sorry if you're an Alabama fan, my Bucks just need some respect.

Vote, comment, follow, all that jazz. I really want to hear your thoughts!

I love you guys! Enjoy the new book!

XOXO ~ Maddie