Agent Rogue: Espionage

Chapter 8

Weeks flew by. Every day had been packed to the brim with planning and working towards the mission, every one of us maximising intensity to prepare as best we could – even Scotty joined in on the combat training. The worst part was the shopping. After one hour, I gave up. Collins offered to find something for me, and one afternoon sent over a couple of dress pictures until I selected my favourite.

          All we had left to do was wait.

          The night before the journey, I grew angsty. All of us did. Collins loaded Tracey's compartments with outfits, weapons and overnight bags. Scotty found a storm due over Monaco shortly after the party's end, and judged it was likely our departure would be delayed, therefore spending the night was a more preferable option. To avoid detection, we couldn't stay within the city, or even fly over it, so Collins found an old chateau stable enough to use as a base for the mission. It was not certain we would use it, but Rodriguez managed to make arrangements just in case. And, after a day of avoiding Collins, Davis had gone home to rest.

          I knew sleep was unlikely, and wandered down to the training hall at six. Derek followed at first, but scurried off after checking the time on his watch, telling me he wanted to read over the files once again at home. I offered to keep him company, but he insisted I stayed at the agency to finish some arms training.

          Shots rang through the hall, ripping into the cardboard cut-outs on the opposite side of the room, spraying fragments all over the place.

          I kept going, tugging on the trigger rapidly, matching the bullseye until I ran out of bullets.

          "—Marcus's face!"

          I spun around, frowning at Scotty. The shots still reverberated in my ears. "What?"
"I said: are you picturing Marcus's face?"
I turned back. A hole now resided in the centre of the target, completely torn apart from the chest outwards. "I suppose I am."
He nodded at his technological mess on the table. "Get over here. I need to show you something."

          His desk was scattered with chaos that somehow made sense to him: his laptop with several wires jumping out and connecting to the nearby extension cords, a blown-up map of the Fleur D'or annotated with multi-coloured markers dotted about the table, various tools and screws, and an aluminium briefcase.

          He gestured to the environment, giddiness making him smile. "Remember how I said last week that it was impossible for me to hack the cameras without being in the control room?"
I nodded. Security was tight at the Fleur D'or. After numerous tries to hack the cameras, Scotty found his access blocked from the whole system and dove head-first into a meltdown of feeling useless. He could only be our eyes from the control room. "I remember."
"Well, since we aren't guaranteed to get into the control room, I made some cameras of my own."

          He held up a mask; entirely black, speckled with sequins and lined with gold that stretched into horn-like elements at the peaks of either side. A jewel centred the forehead. Onyx black like an endless abyss.

          "Every mask has a jewel, and every jewel has a camera inside of it. That way, I can watch out for you all even if we don't get to the control room, and I can see exactly what you see. No talking to me in front of crowds to attract unwanted attention."

          I smiled, looking at the row of masks: one held a similar style to my own but was considerably bigger, having more squared edges, another pure white, glittered with silver and gold, the third shades of red and purple, and the final one dark with a wolfish shape. "Good job, Scotty."
He blushed as he whipped open his laptop. "I've got all cameras set up and working smoothly. My screen will be split between the four of you, and I've assigned usernames to remind me of who's who."
I stepped closer to read. "What usernames?"
He slammed the lid shut. "That's private and you are not to touch."
I held up my hands. "Alright!"