Rule number seven; it's never my loss, respectfully.
The steam from the shower still lingers around my body as I step out and grab a towel from under the sink, wrapping it around me. My eyes flick up to the mirror opposite me, brown eyes familiar yet different at the same time. I blink away my reflection, exiting the ensuite and grabbing the duffel beside the bed, sitting it beside me as I rest on the mattress.
I pull out the file Director had added to the ones I'd asked for, throwing it on the bed before reaching in and retrieving clothes.
I lean over, tucking a piece of white-blonde hair behind my ear as I flip the file open.
A black and white photo stares back at me, the man behind the lens staring with a predator's gaze, face all sharp angles and oozing danger.
Sebastian Smith. Missing In Action.
I move the photo away, scanning his information quickly.
Fifty-three deaths under his belt. An excessive amount even for an Agent.
I flip open the other files, reading the names quickly.
Carlisle Jones.
Rachel McCall.
Lilly Hackett.
Jamie Killorn
Sitting the files side by side, I compare their information.
All four are of similar ages, while Sebastian was only a year younger than me. Rachel and Carlisle were both found dead days after they missed check in, the skin flayed from their body.
I blink at the mental image, the rage that must have been behind the kills large.
The rest are still unaccounted for, though Sebastian has the most chance of still being alive.
I move the paper over, reading the information on the task he was assigned when he went missing.
Classified.
I blink, flipping the file over yet no information is shown on his last case, the file relatively blank.
I slap the file beside me, reaching for my computer to begin the tedious process of accessing his sealed records.
It takes longer than I would have liked but finally the information appears across my screen, the letter appearing as if currently being typed.
My eyes scan the information, locking onto the name of his last known mission.
Sebastian was delving into Richard Head's life, the CEO of Green Acres Enterprises.
Why?
My eyes drift away from the screen when chatter erupts from below me, slipping between the crack of the door and floor.
"What have we got on his last mission?" Archer's distinctive voice sounds, and I pause my movements, straining to listen.
My mind goes to his file, shifting through the information I know.
Adopted at a young age, birth parents' unknown. Trained at The Division from ages thirteen to eighteen. Childhood best friend and fifth team member, Scarlett, followed in his footsteps, died a year ago while on a mission.
"Richard Head." A new voice begins.
Clay. Trained from the moment he could walk, though his specialties include intelligence and hacking. A point of contention with his father, The Director-
I cut off the thought as another voice pipes up,
"Why'd his parents name him that. Poor kid."
Liam. Joined the Division age sixteen, family unknown.
I move the laptop from my lap, standing and tightening the towel around my body, wandering back into the bathroom, fixing my hair.
"He's the CEO of Green Acres Enterprises." A female voice joins in, continuing the report.
Cleo. Born into The Division, mother deceased. Trained bomb and sniper expert.
"Though Sebastian's reports show that the business is a front, the underbelly home to a sex trafficking ring." Clay says.
"What about the other Agents?" Archer asks.
"Two were taken while between missions, the others while on separate assignments. No distinct connection."
"There's something we're missing."
"Besides nearly all of them being around the same age and graduating in the same class, there is nothing to connect them."
"Except Sebastian," Archer's voice adds, "his is the only file that doesn't match with the others. Different age bracket for one, and he'd never even been in the same room as the others, that we know of."
"So maybe his disappearance isn't connected to theirs?" Cleo questions.
"Maybe." Archer murmurs, the sound so low I barely catch it. "Let's focus on him for now, maybe his mission will give us a clue at what happened. He could have uncovered something he wasn't meant to."
Leaving the bathroom, I drop the towel behind me and reach for the dress, a satin silvery-violet floor length gown. I slip it over my shoulders and let it fall down my body like a waterfall. The silk gliding over my right thigh as my leg peaks through.
"Richard Head is hosting a Gala tonight, but it's an illusion and a way for his investors to communicate without drawing suspicion. Get a taste of what their money is buying. No doubt a few 'escorted' women and men will be in attendance." Clay continues.
Standing straight once more, I turn and grab a pair of shoes. The dress sways around my body as I sit on the edge of the bed and slip on a pair of nude strappy heels.
"He's forty-one years old but thinks he's twenty with the way he acts in public." Cleo's husky voice lilts into the conversation.
The satin clings dangerously to my waist and kisses my legs delicately as I stand up.
I lift one heeled foot on to the bed and harness a thin stiletto blade to my inner thigh, making sure it's secure before I let the fabric fall around my ankles like a pool of water once more.
I strut to the door, my one bare leg peeking through the slit as I move.
I open the door; the heels making a sharp clicking noise as I walk the hallway and descend the staircase.
Archer's head snaps to me, "And she finally comes downstairs."
I lift a hand to my chest and gasp dramatically. "You were waiting for little old me?"
He rolls his eyes, "We were going over the file, you took your sweet time getting ready." His eyes linger down my figure, stopping at the slit of my dress.
He stalks closer, his eyes piercing through mine.
I stand still as he nears.
His eyes fall to my hips, his hand skimming the outside of my thigh.
"Your weapon is visible."
I let my eyes drop to his lap and widen before I look up through my lashes demurely, "So is yours." I purr, walking past him and letting my shoulder skim his.
His eyes darken on mine, jaw tightening but I only lift a brow in challenge.
A choked laugh erupts into the air before it abruptly cuts off with a cough.
I ignore the noise and stalk for the lounge, taking a seat and crossing my legs in front of me.
I straighten the harness and the silk dress before looking up,
"The Gala begins at seven, might want to get ready." I simper with a smile.
"Your file says you're adept at seduction?" He phrases it like a question, but his eyes drag down my body leisurely before focusing back on mine.
I clear my throat softly, "You tell me?" I smirk, "You seemed to be quite enthralled when I first met you."
His eyes narrow, "Don't kid yourself, Agent, You were a job."
"And you were a fuck," I let my lips curl around the word sensually, "And you didn't even get that right."
He turns his back on me, looking towards his team, ignoring my words.
"Our main objective is to familiarise ourselves with the target. Don't engage unless needed." He turns and starts stalking up the stairs before turning back to me, "You will be beside me tonight."
I only smile and relax back in my seat, watching him turn and stalk the rest of the way up the stairs, my eyes unknowingly tracing the pull and stretch of his muscles under his t-shirt.
The same muscles I had under the palm of my hand only a day ago.
I turn to the three sets of eyes I can feel piercing through my head, raising a delicate brow.
Cleo stands, sauntering over. "I know this isn't what you wanted, but welcome to the team." She looks towards where Archer disappeared to, "Don't worry about him, he can be a little-" she shrugs, unable to find the words. "I'm Cleo." She introduces herself and I nod, looking up at her.
"Agent Eleven." I say, watching as her eyes widen the slightest bit.
"Is that what you go by?"
"You can call me Eleven."
She nods, humming low under her breathe and turns for the stairs. I watch her as she ascends the stairs before turning to the others.
"I don't want you here." Clay says, his silvery green depths staring through me. "And I don't trust you." He keeps walking, "So don't make things harder than they have to be. Leave."
"I'm not going anywhere." I smile back, "Not that your father would let me anyway, so run along and be a good little boy for daddy dearest." I wave as he narrows his eyes, walking up the stairs, shoulders tight.
The cushion beside me dips as a person sits on the other side of the lounge, I turn to them.
"Archer hates not being in control, and he's a right asshole sometimes, but he's a good leader." Liam begins, counting his fingers, "Cleo likes bombs, don't touch her hair otherwise you will find your car blown up." He jumps in his seat. "Clay may seem like a heartless dick, he's not, but he is a very kinky motherfuc-"
"Liam! Get your ass up here!" Said man yells through the house, walls shaking.
He shoots up, jogging for the stairs.
"And if you bring me a pizza, I will tell you anything!" He yells over his shoulder as he bounds up the stairs like an over-excited puppy.
• • •
The music within the ballroom slithers along polished tiles, twining around my legs as I pick up a drink from a tray, sipping the bubbly liquid and leaning against an unoccupied table. Seconds later I feel heat at my back, caressing the bare skin there with a tantalising touch.
I straighten as the person next to me lets their fingers slip along the silk at my spine, settling at my hip. Archer hand hot through the thin fabric. I sip from the flute of bubbly liquid, eyes scanning the people mingling and dancing.
"Any sign of him?"
My strappy heels click gently against the marble floor. The slinky silver dress clinging to my lithe body as I relax my shoulders and lift my chin ever so slightly. Brown eyes softening and mouth forming a sensual grin as I glance at Archer beneath my lashes.
"No, you?" I slow my steps to delicate strides as we weave between the crowd of bodies.
His five o'clock shadow catches my attention, jaw flexing as he dips his head slightly, hazel eyes simmering with questions. His lips lift slightly, and he looks down at me. "Straight ahead, at the front table."
I turn my attention forward and away from Archer, scanning the faces until I find the one in the crowd that matches the photo pinned to his file.
"Ready?" Archer murmurs.
He doesn't wait for me to answer before he's gliding us closer to the target, shoulders pushing back and chin lifting.
"Richard!" He greets loudly, a grin lighting up his face. "It's been forever, old friend."
Richard blinks slightly in confusion, his eyes glancing from Archer to me. I let my head lilt slightly to the left, sending him a sensual grin as I slowly dip my eyes down his form and back to his face.
"It's been too long." He replies to Archer, pretending he has any idea who the hell we are.
Archer doesn't waste time, his hand taking mine in his grip and pushing me forward with another on the small of my back, the heat of it singeing my skin.
"This is my beautiful Fiancée, you haven't met her yet."
Richard laughs like Archer just told him an old joke, his fingers curling around mine and taking it from Archer's grip.
I let him.
He looks at me as he bends down, planting a too long kiss on the back of my hand before straightening, my hand still in his possession.
"And what a beauty she is." He breathes, staring straight into my eyes.
I smile softly, glancing down before flicking my eyes back to his.
The target smiles at me. His veneers blindingly white and seemingly too big for his small mouth.
Archers hand on my back flexes before disappearing and I take the que.
Lifting a hand to my chest softly, I look to Archer. "I would love a drink."
Richard tightens his hold on my hand, "I would love to get you a drink." Before he looks at Archer, "That all good, old friend?"
I look to Archer for the answer too, my eyes wide.
Archer grins fiendishly.
"You can do with her as you please, I wouldn't have her as a fiancée without you."
Richard wide eyes snap to mine before lingering down my body. "She's one of mine?"
Archer doesn't agree nor deny.
"You lucked out, how much did you pay?"
Archer laughs, straightening the lapels of his jacket. "A businessman never discloses the price of his-" he looks to me then, eyes running down my form, "Possessions."
"Right you are, friend. Right you are." Richard chuckles, stepping closer to me. "Now let's get you that drink."
Cheeks reddening faintly, I smile shyly and follow him.
I glance over my shoulder faintly to see Archer flick his chin to the right before he disappears into the crowd.
I take a seat on the barstool, Richard sitting beside me. He leans in closely, his hand gently landing on my thigh. I smile slowly at him.
"What can I get you both?" A low rough voice interrupts.
Tearing my eyes from the targets, I turn my attention to the bartender, blinking at him as Richard orders for the both of us.
Clay keeps his gaze on the target, his head nodding in acknowledgment. He turns his back to us as he goes about making our drinks and I turn my attention back to the man beside me.
I can see him looking at me, but I don't say anything until spoken to.
"What's your name?"
"Lacy." I introduce my alias softly, demurely.
The target grabs my hand and turns it over, placing a lingering kiss on the back. "Pleasure, the name's Richard, CEO of Green Acres Enterprises, as I'm sure you know. You can call me Rick."
Our drinks are placed down in front of us as the conversation flows.
I sip from my drink. Richard on his third, his mouth hasn't stopped moving since we sat down but nothing of interest spills forth. The usually egoistical babble and compliments about my body I'd rather unhear.
I steal another sip, nodding to Richard with a small smile, my hand falling to his knee when I feel heat at my back. I turn slightly to the owner of the heat, looking up into hazel eyes.
"Sorry to cut this short." Archer murmurs towards Richard, his fingers curling around my shoulder before sliding softly down the length of my arm and curling around my fingers. "I have a meeting early in the morning, one I can't miss." He looks to Richard like he get it, his lips quirked thoughtlessly.
My hands slide the object from the middle of Archer's palm, fisting it between my fingers as Archer holds his hand out to shake Richards.
"Yes, yes. I understand." Richard stands unsteadily, his eyes cutting down to mine, hands resting on my wrist tightly. Chin dipped wantonly.
I stand at the cue, stepping up to Richard as he pulls me into a leering hug.
His thick arms band around me tightly, hands wandering, and I curl mine around him, slipping my hand towards his pocket.
His hand squeezes my ass at the same moment I slip the device in his pocket, my hands stiff by my side, but my smile is sensual, knowing, inviting.
Archer's hand locks around my hip, pulling me back.
"I'll be seeing you at the next function?" Richard asks Archer, bushy brow raising.
"Of course." Archer murmurs, puling me with him as he begins walking out of the Extravagant room.
I glance subtly over my shoulder, tracking Richards movements as he swaggers away.
A body sidles up to my other side, his strawberry blonde hair slicked back from his face, his jawline more chiselled with the new hairstyle.
"When you get tired of this façade with Archer," Liam whispers out of the corner of his mouth, twinkling blue eyes on mine. "Come find me." He waggles his brows, laughing when Archer shoves his shoulder slightly.
The chill in the night air caresses along my skin when we exit the building, two familiar people waiting at the bottom of the wide steps.
Cleo enters the van when she sees us approaching, pink hair is braids down her back. Clay scans both men at my side before looking to Archer.
"Did you get the device on him?"
Archer nods his head to me as he lets me go, walking for the van. "She did." His eyes find Cleo where she sits in the front passenger seat, her eyes on the phone in her hand. "Did you get his car?"
Her eyes flicker up and she nods, "I attached it to his front left wheel, it should stay until we remove it."
"We'll sit on it a bit, see where he goes and what he does." Archer continues, pulling himself into the back of the van as Clay follows. Liam and I a step behind.
"Turn on the listening device, he'll have to contact his superiors at some point after the function finishes to liaise with them. Hopefully it won't take long to find out what Sebastian did," Archer tells Clay before turning to me, "How many weapons do you have?"
I glance up, staring at the man through slitted eyes. "Why?"
"I want them,"
Anger slices through me, "Why?" I repeat.
"Until I'm satisfied with your training, you won't be using weapons." He grins, the smile all ego. "And since you're on probation, you won't be needing them anyway, will you?"
I shove past him, climbing into the van and ignoring his eyes on me.
• Question Of The Chapter •
Your house is on fire, everybody is safe, pets and people included. Cash and phones are outside with you, what would you make that last dash inside to get?
The Dress