High speed car chases were definitely not your forte.
Your target was more skilled with a car than you but like hell you were going to lose him again.
You've been trying to catch him for weeks, but he always managed to slip through your fingers at the very last moment.
You weaved through street lanes and dodged pedestrians as you chased his car. You were right on his heels and you had a clear shot at his head, so you whipped out your pistol and aimed it quickly.
Your boss said that he'd prefer him alive, but this fucker was too slippery and too dangerous to allow him to keep drawing breath.
Right before you pulled the trigger, he swerved toward the left suddenly into oncoming traffic.
With your trained eye, you quickly adapted and took your shot, shattering your side window in the process.
Bullseye.
His car skidded before ramming into a light post, and you immediately pressed the button on your dash to alert the authorities that your target was secured.
You were so caught up in getting your target that you hadn't realized you were headed straight toward a building, and you just barely managed to aim your car at the glass doors instead of the cement wall as you slammed your foot on the brakes.
It was safe to say your stop was a rough one.
The airbag blew up, protecting your head as you were launched forward by the impact.
Your car was wedged in the doorway of what looked like a restaurant surrounded by shattered glass. There was no way you were going to be able to get out through the car doors, so you positioned yourself to kick out the front windshield.
On the first kick, it didn't even budge.
"Come on."
On the second kick, a crack formed.
On the third kick, it split even more.
On the fourth and final kick, you drew all your strength, kicking it with everything your sore muscles could muster.
"Motherfucker!"
The windshield broke with a shatter and you quickly hopped out of the car.
Brushing off your obsidian black suit, you gave yourself a once over. Apart from a couple bumps and scratches, you were okay, but one particularly deep scratch kept your attention as a voice came over your intercom.
It was your boss.
"Agent (Y/N)."
"Yes, sir?"
"What's the status of the target?"
"Terminated."
"Goddammit (Y/L/N)"
You let out a sigh before running a hand through your hair, "I'm sorry, sir. He was about to get away and I couldn't let that happen again. There have been too many innocent casualties caused by his hands."
"Hmm... well, at least you managed to catch him. You've proved yourself more competent than any of our other agents. Report back to HQ and we'll discuss your compensation."
"What about the body?"
"I've got that all taken care of."
"Yes, sir."
Letting yourself break into a smile, you suddenly remembered where you were. Flashing your eyes up, you felt your jaw drop as four gangly boys stood, staring at you in shock as everyone else hid in their booths.
Oh shit.
"(Y/N)?"
Your brain raced for a way out of this, but you drew up blanks. Your sunglasses got thrown off during your pursuit and your identity was out in the open for anyone, including your best friends, to see.
"... Hey guys..."
"Did you just--?"
"And then do--?"
"While going--?"
It was obvious that coherent sentences were past them at this point.
Letting out a sigh, you scrunched your eyes before saying, "Okay, you know what? I don't have time for this. I have to go, but I'll answer any questions you have later. Don't tell anyone about this and just... don't freak too bad, okay?"
They merely nodded, still wide-eyed as they watched you race out of the restaurant.
Silence filled the room until Luke turned toward the rest of the boys, clearly confused, "Wait, so, was (Y/N) like... in a car crash? Shouldn't we have called 911?"
Three groans sounded in response, the tension immediately dissipating.
"Luke... you really can be a dumbass sometimes," Michael spoke.
"Wait, what?"
With a roll of his eyes, Michael stepped forward to examine the broken windshield and wrecked expensive car, "You've got to admit. That was kind of bad ass."
Ashton moved to join Michael in his examination, "I can't believe that she actually..."
"I know," Calum finished, his brain whirring to see if there were any signs in the past that you were a spy, but coming up blank.
Luke still stood in obvious confusion, "That she what? Drove into the restaurant?"
Michael physically slammed his head on the hood of the car and Ashton's giggle echoed in the restaurant.
"Clearly I missed something important while I was in the bathroom."
"Clearly."
"You know what Michael--"
The two began to bicker senselessly as Calum pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation and Ashton moved to look over the car at the chaos outside.
"Hey guys, you might want to see this."
The three others rushed next to Ashton, peering at the FBI surrounding your target's body and walking around the perimeter.
Luke gasped, "Wait, someone died? Did (Y/N) do that? Oh my god, is (Y/N) a criminal?"
Three heads slowly and silently turned toward the blond.
"...What?"
No wonder they never found out about your double life before now.