My name wasn't really Brookie. It was just Brooke, but when I introduced myself on my first day, I said my name was Brooke Key. Someone combined the two and now I was Brookie to almost everyone.
Almost.
"Agent Key can you list your symptoms?"
I would've groaned, but I couldn't. It was physically too painful. Everything was too painful. "Don't you have the report from the doctors?" Sarcasm. But not really. I seriously just didn't want to answer the question.
The therapist nodded. "Part of recovery is making sure you understand your symptoms."
"Understanding them and listing them are two different things." I wasn't feeling up to this, and if this was only the first day, recovery was going to be the longest time ever. Especially since they said it would take at least a year. At least. God, this was going to be terrible.
"Your symptoms, Agent Key."
"Restricted leg movement in my right leg, difficulty breathing, chest pains, irregular heartbeat, and malnutrition. Headaches, throat pains and I think that's it."
"Can you specify the description of your leg injury?"
I rolled my eyes. At least I could still do that.
"I can't move my quad and I have to wear a huge brace and use crutches. But on the bright side I get my stiches out tomorrow so yay for that." I wasn't mad, not exactly. I was just tired of all of these "official" questions and reports about what happened. I hadn't even been allowed to go back to the lounge at all.
"We haven't confirmed that the stitches will come out tomorrow."
"It's been a week. My doctors said they would come out in a week."
"They said it might be a week. We don't have any definite answers."
"I was in surgeries for six days. I want to be done with them." I knew that an injury like this wouldn't be fixed any time soon, but I let myself hope. It was one of the few things I could do.
"Agent Key, your quad muscles were almost completely destroyed. I don't think it will be tomorrow."
I smiled. "But you're not a doctor. You're a therapist."
I was a fighter at heart, and I fought all of it with sarcasm. Not denial: sarcasm.
But sometimes I was too tired for sarcasm.
"I understand you're frustrated with everything that has happened, but we're here to help you."
Above all, I was tired of the lies.
I limped down the hallway on my crutches once I was finally dismissed. The walk didn't seem this far before, but that might be because I was rarely in medical or therapy. Now I was in both for who knows how long. The numbers they gave me weren't real. They didn't know how long this would be. They didn't know so much.
All anyone knew was that I was alive.
I scanned my card to get access in the lounge. It was the only place I wanted to be right now. Even though it would be packed with other teen agents who were off duty, I really needed to sit in the corner booth and just sit. That's exactly what I did.
I knew they were staring; it was something that you picked up when you were a top-of-the-line spy. I didn't blame them. My black hair was in a messy ponytail, and part of the bottom was charred off. I refused to let them fix it. I was on crutches and had a giant brace on my right leg that extended from below my knee all the way up to my hip. The vest I had been given to wear provided support to my damaged ribs, regulated my heartbeat and helped me breathe.
Someone slid into the seat across from me. He smiled at me even though he knew that if I could raise my arm, I would punch him for it.
"Hey, Brookie. What are you doing here?" he asked as he flicked his brown hair out of his face.
"Well, I'm on leave right now so just trying to catch up with everything." I smiled back. I felt like I hadn't smiled in forever.
"So we'll see you a lot around here? That'll be a change."
"Yeah. I'll be here. I'm not allowed to go off of premises, no training, and I have to do medical checkups at least three times a day and go to therapy."
"But you're ok, right?"
"Besides the fact I lost my Elitist title? Yeah, Nathan. I'm fine." But I wasn't sure. There wasn't much I was sure of anymore. "Please tell me they did clearance on this before."
Nathan shook his head. "Katherine wanted you to be here when it happened."
"But she didn't know if I would come back or not."
"She knew you would. We all knew you would." They knew I would come back, they didn't know what condition I would be in.
Right as I thought about the clearance that I would have to face, the beeping began and all of the agents quieted down. Agent Katherine, the leader of the agency who looked like she could bench a car with no problem, walked in and attention fell on her.
"Today's mission clearance is about what began as a standard triangle surveillance. If you were on this mission, please stand."
I stood up and used her crutches as support. Nathan reached out his hand to help me, but I waved it away. On the other side of the room, Chelsea rose too. One unspoken thought rang through the room. It was a triangle surveillance, but only two agents were standing.
"Agent Gilman, this mission had three parts. Name them."
Chelsea quickly listed, "Surveillance, planning, and search and rescue."
Agent Katherine nodded. "Surveillance formation?"
"Standard surveillance mission. Triangle formation. Agent Key at point, Agent Cambridge at rear and myself in sectional."
"Where did it go wrong?"
"Agent Key was hit with a wave that disconnected radio signals and was somehow knocked unconscious. By the time I realized communications were down, Agent Key was already gone. Agent Cambridge located the van and tried to go after it."
She paused. "What happened to Agent Cambridge?" Agent Katherine asked, but we all knew the answer.
"Agent Cambridge was killed," Chelsea said.
"At ease." Chelsea sat down.
"Agent Key. If you are ok with it, list your symptoms." It was a command, and yet it wasn't.
I took a deep breath, as much as it hurt and once I started talking, I couldn't stop. "I can't move my right leg because when I was stabbed, the muscle in two areas was completely destroyed. I have to wear this brace and use crutches and this turtle shell thing so I can actually breathe and have my heart beating. Besides all that it's just chest pains, irregular heartbeat, difficulty breathing, throat pains, headaches, and I can't stomach food even though I am always hungry. It's all just effects of the malnutrition and the blasts, they say."
I started to cry, which was a mistake but I couldn't help it. It was the first time I really talked about what happened, and I hated reliving every minute. I stared up at the ceiling with the hope it would go away because I would not be seen as weak in front of this crowd. I was confident that they were aware of my skill and knew for a fact they were all aware of the situation, but I would not let them see me broken. I kept talking.
"When I was captured, there was this device they put on my chest. It sent shocks through my body, but it was aimed specially at my heart. I was shocked at least 17 times before you guys got me out. 17. I counted every. Single. One. Waiting for it to stop one way or the other. Then I stopped waiting and figured I had nothing left to lose. When I was trying to get out of the room, I was stabbed in the leg twice. I couldn't move it but I kept pulling myself along. There are around 45 stiches in my leg right now and I still won't be able to use that leg for at least a year, and they aren't even sure if it will ever function without the brace, even though they tell me something different literally every time. But I'm here. I'm here," I said quieter. Then I paused and looked at the table in front of me, thinking about who wasn't here. I looked around the room. "That's it." I sat down. The tears had cleared from my eyes and were filled with an anger that demanded anyone to challenge what I had said.
There was the question that everyone was waiting for. One that was always asked.
"Whose fault was it?"
It was the question that was meant to serve as a learning basis, but it always ended up being torture for the people who were on the mission.
"Key for not being aware of her surroundings," someone said.
"Gilman for not realizing her point was down."
"Cambridge for trying to go after the van."
"It wasn't Key's fault; she was knocked out."
"If she had been more aware, then she would've realized it."
"The point's job is to remain focused on their target. Gilman and Cambridge should've been monitoring her."
"It was Agent Katherine's fault." Everyone was silent and turned towards the person who said it. They were all looking at me. "Wasn't it?" I said as the pieces were put together in my head.
"Explain."
"You let us walk straight into a trap. You may not have realized it that morning when you assigned it, but a sudden surveillance mission? It was planned. And you didn't realize it. We walked straight into a trap."
Everyone was silent. Agent Katherine replied to me, "You think that this was specially planned to capture you?"
"I'm 100% sure. Chelsea, what happened before you got to the room I was being held in?" I wasn't entirely sure about this part, but I had my guess. My guesses were usually right.
"I was holding rear and was cut off from the group. When I was heading to the rendezvous, I walked straight into the room you were being held in."
I nodded. I was right. "Then what happened?"
"They locked all the doors so I couldn't get out and they asked me whose hand print locked Lab 7. Then they shocked you until reinforcements got you out."
I looked at Agent Katherine. "They thought Chelsea knew, and they knew that if she thought it was her fault I was captured, they would be able to torture me to get it out of her."
Agent Katherine didn't respond. "You are all dismissed. Key, please come with me."
Nathan reached out his hand to help me again, but I brushed it away. I followed Agent Katherine out into the hallway and down towards her office. I took a seat inside across from her.
Her office was similar to the décor of the lounge, minus a few key features. It had the same tech look, but more advanced supplies. It also lacked the half spy headquarters, half retro diner feel that the lounge had with the booths and food bar.
"Are you sure that this was a trap?" she asked.
"Add it up yourself."
"Agent Key, I know the past few weeks have been hard for you-"
I did something no agent would ever do to the director of teen agents. I interrupted her. "Weeks?"
She looked surprised at my shock, but I was tired of everything, and the respect that had been drilled into my head since I joined was gone, just like my ability to walk correctly. "You were in captivity for 38 days."
The world stopped.
There was no way I had been there for that long. They would've gotten me out before then. They would've done something, anything, to help me.
My breathing was getting heavy and I hated it. I knew I was one step away from being whisked away to medical care and mental care for practically ever but I couldn't stop.
"I'm going to let you go now, after one more question," she told me. I nodded. "Have you taken precaution? They might have found out some other way."
I held up my hand. My fingerprints and all of the lines on my right hand were completely gone. "Once they find out that the person they had all along was the one they were looking for, they're never going to stop coming for me, are they?" I asked.
Agent Katherine shook her head. "You aren't safe, Brookie. But I'm going to do everything I can to make sure we don't send you into another trap. You can go now."
I stood up and limped out of the room on my crutches. I smiled as I went back to my room. I wasn't always Agent Key, and after the worst 38 days of my life and my breakdown in the lounge during clearance, I was glad that she called me Brookie.
As much as I hated no longer being an Elitist, Agent Key needed a break.
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This was a random idea that I had been thinking about for a little bit, and now that's it's finished, I'm really really happy with how it turned out.
I'll be doing some updates and editing throughout, but please let me know what you think!
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