LOUIS 🗡
Wednesday, 7:54pm
_
SHE WASN'T LYING.
That God-awful, terrible, criminal, manipulative [y/n] Ash wasn't lying when she said she had an alibi. I wanted to kick something. Break something. It just wasn't bloody fair, and it didn't make sense.
After she left me standing humiliated (again) in the dark alley, I stormed my way over to the nearest Greggs' shop and managed to get a copy of the security footage from the past two hours.
And at exactly 2:35pm, the time of the bomb's detonation, I watched as [y/n] Ash bought a ham sandwich from the store counter and unwrapped it with a smile on her face. She had no explosive trigger in her hand—just that damn sandwich—and she was five blocks away from the site.
There was no possible way she could have done it, and it didn't matter if someone else did, because it wasn't her.
And I wanted her.
But what was the tip of the iceberg was that when she left to leave the shop, she stopped in her tracks, tilting her head to look straight into the security camera's lense. And at the exact second the bomb went off, she winked. I could see the truth in her eyes, but I couldn't prove that she did it.
"I'm going to kill her," I spat out, storming into my office, "she's bloody insane."
William didn't even look up from his computer. "Insanity isn't a bad trait."
"Are you seriously defending her?"
"Everyone is innocent until proven guilty," the man said, tapping his finger against the desk, "and you clearly haven't found the proof to accuse her of it."
"She tied me to a chair!"
"Technically, that's not illegal."
"I'm done with you," I frowned, furrowing my brows, "you're supposed to be on my side here, and you're acting like she's innocent."
William rolled his eyes, glancing briefly to the mirror behind me as if he was asking 'do I need it or not?', but the answer was no. I wasn't angry, I was pissed. There's a difference. And I was doing better at controlling it appearance-wise.
"For all I know, she doesn't exist," he shrugged, standing up from his chair, "no one except for you has seen her, she has no records in our files, and we received a report this morning that Robert and Martha Ash are currently on vacation in Barbados—which is halfway across the world, and means the Ash Family is not involved in this."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.
"So you need to learn how to separate one case from another, so you don't lose focus," he continued, "and if you really think this girl is a threat, then maybe you should do something other than complaining about it."
He was right.
I let my temper get to my head, because something about her made me feel wretched inside. I barely knew her, but I didn't have to know her. I knew her type—reckless criminals—and I knew what they were capable of. What she was capable of.
And yes, she was a threat.
A dangerous one.
"Arrange a meeting with the board," I said, swinging open the door to my office, "there's something we need to do."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
EVERYTHING IS GOING ACCORDING TO PLAN.
I took into account the threat that [y/n] Ash made in the alleyway, telling me I had twenty days to catch her. If not, I'd die. Considering I was too valuable of an Agent to lose, I brought the situation up with the Higher-Ups, and they immediately called for proper tactics.
And that's why I'm officially the leader of a new rollout group—Team Dagger.
A dagger—which I pray you know the definition of, otherwise I'd advise you to stay in school—is the perfect symbol for this pairing, because no one expects it. No one sees it coming, and no one hears it until it's already been used to take out an opponent.
Just like how [y/n] won't see it coming either.
In the twenty days before her deadline, I'll play along with her stunts, pretending that I'm completely baffled by her 'extreme wit', but I'm really just gathering intel. Once I know everything about her fighting skills, her hideout, information about her parents, and the rest, she'll be in jail before she can blow something else up.
"Today is a great day, William," I said, stalking into my office, "I think we should celebrate."
My partner was glaring daggers already. "Great, you say?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you ruin everything, Partridge," the man scowled, grabbing his coat off the hook, "it's not every day you run into a bloody attractive woman, who—by the way—was actually capable of seeming half-interesting to me."
I gave him a confused look, treading over to my desk. "You got yourself a woman, Miller?"
"No, because she was only here for you," he said distastefully, "didn't even have a chance to ask for her name."
"For me?"
"Yes, for you."
"If it's Linda from IT, tell her I'm busy," I frowned, "she's been trying to get me to go on a date with her for months."
I hated to sound scornful, but I didn't have time to 'date-around'. I was married to my work, in a sense. I preferred training over movie dates, missions over valentines day gifts, and the satisfaction of catching a criminal over asking someone to be your girlfriend. That was for the people who didn't have anything else to do with their lives but subject themselves to someone else.
And the women here at SIS were either married or not my type, so I didn't give any of them the time of day.
"It wasn't Linda," William said, heading towards the door, "it was some girl from tactical."
I blinked. "Some girl?"
"I told you I didn't have time to ask for her name," the man scowled, "she just walked in here, chatted with me for a bit, and then dropped something off on your desk."
I furrowed my brows. "Strange."
As my partner began to leave, I tilted my head, scanning the surface of my table for the mentioned object. I found a small box tucked neatly on the center of the space, wrapped in a tiny red bow.
Picking it up, I shook it lightly before unwrapping the strings. There didn't seem to be anything heavy inside, and anyone who walks into SIS headquarters had to go through a rigorous security clearance, so it couldn't be dangerous either.
But when I opened the lid, I froze.
Inside the box was a melted slate of plastic, black with the aftermath of being set on fire. Everything about it was almost unreadable, but I could see the corner of my name on the top left.
My badge.
The one [y/n] took a few days ago.
"Miller, get back here," I said, "now."
The man was nearly out the door when I called him back, but spun around immediately. I could see the alarm in his eyes when I looked at him with pure hatred and fire boiling through my blood.
"You're a daft idiot, Will," I spat out, throwing the box onto the table, "you let [y/n] Ash walk right into our office, and you didn't notice."
My partner's eyes bugged out of his head.
"That was Ash?" He choked out, "the Ash daughter?"
"Yes!"
Flicking on the monitor of my computer, I waited for it to power up with impatience. This was a threat. By burning my badge, she was saying that I'd suffer the same fate if I didn't catch her. It was alarming, and it made me question the civility of the team I had just created.
"Jesus, Partridge," William said, placing his forehead into his hand, "how the hell did she get past security?"
I gave him a look. "How the hell did she get past you?"
A soft beeping noise rang from my desk, and I glanced down to see that my computer had finally powered on. Just as I suspected, there was a red circle above my email inbox, stating that I had a new message. It said it was sent an hour ago, when I was in the meeting with my Higher-Ups.
This was the start of a war.
It was Team Dagger VS Team Ash, now.
And I wasn't going to let us lose.