The rhythm of my heart overtakes my mind.
The vibrancy of the pulses reverberating throughout my body, how heavy each pounding beat feels, and how it speeds up within the seconds it catches my attention.
Bullets tear through the air, scintillating sparks bursting around me as they ricochet off the elevator walls. The burning sharp odour of metallic acidity enveloping me as the doors slowly close.
My eyes focused on the scattered targets ahead as I shoot with my left hand. A grenade slipping from my right, until quickly attaching back to the pistol grip of the APC9 SMG that dangles from my harness.
Amidst the chaos and the adrenaline coursing through me, my mind seems to focus only on the sound of my heart.
The recoil of the guns, the vibrations striking up my arms to my shoulders, all of my senses heightened as the sensation of these feelings hit me. The profound thunderous beating of my heart, throbbing through my whole body down to my fingers and toes, and the wave of emotions—just like a blizzard of frost—causing my head to numb.
The first time in my life I've ever felt this way.
I'm afraid.
The elevator doors shut, and I freeze in my position. The rumbling of the grenade rattling the doors, yet the explosion doesn't even faze me as the elevator begins to move.
This wasn't the first time my heart beat so loudly as if it would explode.
No... The other times it beat like this, was in those moments.
The moments that made the mask I wear crumble. The moments where I abandoned the immoral commands that's been engraved into me, and the ideologies of that girl, Elise Barrington.
My hands tremble as they grip the submachine guns. A breath escaping my chest, I lower my arms, dropping them to my sides.
The thought of being weak never came to me. Even throughout my training, battling against men twice my size, and even the cruelest torture, I was never weak. Yet the bitter taste of reality to what I've now become, mockingly dances on my tongue like a slow burn of bleach.
There was never a time I lost sight of my purpose. My mind was programmed to follow orders from the agency, and I never questioned the things I did—never even questioning the lives I took.
So, just when did I truly lose control? When did the tight chains that barred my heart and mind break? When have I ever questioned myself like so?
Taking a deep breath in the silence of the elevator, I rest my hands on my thighs. Closing my exhausted eyes that burn from the gun powder, my mind plucks out the memories of when it all seemed to go awry.
"Agent Viper."
His voice was deep and smooth like a well aged whiskey.
The man on the screen in front of me was 'Ben'.
'Ben' is merely a codename to hide his identity.
If vice presidents lowered their heads to their presidents, presidents kneeled before Ben. That's the reality of his position and power.
The one who provides all clients with what they require, and the one who provides the best agents for a price—and nobody knew his name.
The agency he leads is UNS for short, standing for Underground National Security. Agents from the UNS are bought by private clients to deal with abnormal schemes—prostitution rings, drug rings, and black market auctions—but compared to the police, FBI, and the CIA, the UNS deal with targets too large to bring down with simple moral tactics. The price to hire UNS is beyond high, yet clients continue to flock to our doors due to our results.
"Ben." I smile, fixing my muted berry lipstick.
"The client has given a gracious period of eight months. They want evidence that links the target to a previous drugs bust that happened in Heathrow, and to an upcoming shipment in Europe."
"Just evidence tying the target to the shipments?"
"As well as any evidence to all things he's involved with. He's supposedly linked to an underground organization, rumoured to be trafficking women."
"Got it. Is everything set for Miss. Barrington?"
"Of course. On screen you'll see information on the target."
The city lights fly by me as I focus on tonight. Riding in the back of a Mercedes Maybach S680, the chauffeur working under UNS clicks a button, causing a holographic screen to appear. The screen shows multiple files of the target, and key points our team has gathered.
"How surprising." I hum to myself reading, "There's not a lot to go off."
The information usually long and overbearing, for once leaves me flabbergasted as it merely contains a handful of points.
"There's not much public information on the target. He's strict with who knows about him, and his inner circle prioritizes their privacy too."
Tapping the photos of the target, I stare at the picture on screen.
A man with dark brown hair—on the verge of seeming black as night—swept back with the sides cut short. Thick eyebrows that sit close to his sharp chilling eyes, a colour of blue resembling a vast ocean trench. His build is muscular and athletic, his height estimated to be around 6'7" or 6'10".
The photo causes adrenaline to course through me, looking back at the man who smiles a charming grin, yet wears sly arrogant eyes.
The excitement of the job differs to each agent—yet for yours truly—my favourite is breaking the confidence behind cold egotistic eyes.
Carlisle Lennox
-Age 28: birth place unknown.
-Networth: 67.8 billion dollars.
-Logical, cunning, heartless, arrogant, quick-witted.
-Has multiple women at his grasp. Longest relationship lasted thirty-six days.
-Enjoys women with intelligence, and are visually appealing. Women chosen all share high class background.
-Do not seduce. Do not push for questions. Being attached or too assertive, will lose all attention from target and label agent as a hindrance.
"This is everything?" I question, skimming over the list.
"He's a tough one to figure out. We investigated his previous companions, and most 'ladies of the night' who asked about him, ended up being met with the doormat."
"Kicking those poor ladies out just because they're interested? What a fickle man." I chuckle, scrolling through the screen.
"He's a man who wants what he wants. His previous companions all described his personality, or rather personalities. He appears to have an abundance of different characters he enjoys playing, in the end every lady had different things to say about him."
"Assuming he changes personalities to keep a distance?"
"Correct. We put the ones that a majority of them described him as. However, for your sake, I suggest you take it as a grain of salt."
"A man who changes his personality based off his prey-"
"Let's see who can change the best."
I finish my sentence in my mind, intrigued by the man who seamlessly wears different faces with each lady.
"We do have other agents on standby if you feel this mission is impossible for you."
"Are you trying to get a rise out of me? Name another agent better than me, Ben."
Ben simply chuckles and nods.
"Can't say they're better, but luck may be on their side."
"The day luck is on their side for a target I can't break, is the day I'm eight feet in the ground."
"Understood, Ms. Viper. Do your best. Tonight is only to observe him. Don't rain bullets over the place."
"I can handle it."
"I know you can." Ben smiles the fake friendly smile he always wears, "Touch base when you're in a secure location."
I nod, turning the call off.
Staring at the hologram, a grin grows on my lips as I read the small information found on him.
Checking the files on the target, a large part of his life seems to be deleted and unknown. No connections of those that have met him as a child, no teachers or schools listed. From his birth to the age of twenty-one his life has been erased without a single trace.
-Owns worldwide hotel and resort chain 'Atlas International', and infamous 'Pandora' casino line meant for the high class.
-Real-estate tycoon, owning dozens of properties and land in multiple countries.
-Suspected involvement of underground network dealing with narcotics, trafficking, and large scale weapon sales.
Likes
-High end whiskey, and rum on the rocks.
-Salted snacks, menthol hard candies.
-Card games, gambling.
Dislikes
-Chocolate, confectionery treats.
-Slow walkers.
Close colleagues:
-Kai Emmerson, owner of 'M-Tech', worldwide company producing phones, tablets, computers, home security products, and multiple IT firms.
-Elliot Cavanaugh, son of wealthy family line that created 'Casso Bank' branch.
-Ivan Kaloyan, direct descendent of founder of 'KYN' one of the largest global oil companies.
Warning: all close contacts are suspected of being connected with target's criminal organization.
"You just came out of nowhere... Where did you and your little friends come from?" I whisper, glancing at the information ahead of me.
Just like the target, his friends seemed to have their histories erased too.
For the first time, a sensation faintly familiar falls upon me. Heading to the location, given little to no useful notes to work on, and the vague notes on the kind of character to act, a grin grows on my lips from the feelings familiar to exhilaration.
The setting of the mission is clear, a game of chance where Lady Luck is the dealer, and the hands dealt out will favour only one.
Putting eye drops in, I blink, staring at my light amber eyes in the mirror as the drops absorb. My eyes glistening from the eye drops, I focus on disappearing.
This moment on, Agent Viper goes into hiding and the role of Elise Barrington begins.