Criminal Affinity

The spy glides through the alley, eyes fixed behind her as much they are ahead. Her tracks are silent as death as she narrowly misses crevices and pools of dirty water. Noise is a w***e.  Ava had jumped out the window before Lilah came in, hardly having time to grab her phone and her emergency duffle bag, crammed with weapons. Ever since she was fired from her job she has been home overworking her body and now she regrets it.  Does she ever do anything right? Anyway, the plan is simple. She will leave tonight. Her dad had relations in Wales. She doesn't know how they would react to her return but she is sure they won't turn her away. They can't. She’s their orphan relative.  She looks exactly like her mother.  But what if they don’t? The stench of the street threatens to choke her. The night seems darker than usual as if warning her of what's to come. Her parents wouldn’t want her to buckle under pressure. They had been killed in a car crash—two highly trained special agents. She should also die in a stupid, domestic way. Not like this.  She can't have distractions. Moments like these are what she has trained for all these years. She will put it into practice.  She will not die. Not tonight. Not like this.  The government announced Pandora rouge. Dale, the head of Pandora, had contacted her. Someone sabotaged them. Told her to run. He told her she will be hunted. Especially her.  She didn't know why and she didn't ask either. She just ran.  Ava won't know tomorrow if she gets captured. Death will be slow and painful.  No. Never like that. Never again.  Her phone buzzes relentlessly in her hand but she ignores it until she is in front of her garage. The alley is empty, cool September air biting through her thin sweatshirt. Maybe she should have grabbed more clothes.  She silently curses and turns her phone. But her anger soon forges into pain when she sees the name. Slicing, white-hot pain. Lilah. Her best friend. "Hey, Lennie." Lilah’s voice wavers. "I just got home. I've brought dinner." A pause. "I broke up with Quinn. I'm...I'm really low. I need some girlie time with you. I hope you get home soon."  Ava blinks at the phone longer than she should. The concrete wall behind her feels brittle. Just a moment. She just needs one moment to breathe, then she will be on her way.  But it isn't just that. She has left a note for Lilah saying that her uncle is in the hospital. The same 'uncle' Ava uses as an excuse when her job calls.  Lilah never questioned why she had no other friends. Never once doubted her or saw through the smokescreen. Ava has been lying to her best friend for three years now.  It's best for Lilah if she never sees her again.  Her hand flies to her chest as if it were a gaping wound. She had been fired for almost a whole year now, with no contact with her friends in the Quarters. All she had was Lilah. Lilah paid her rent until Ava managed to find a job, bought and cooked her food and even occasionally bought her clothes.  No one had ever come that close to her. And she doesn't know if anyone ever will.  A hand whips out of the shadow, closely missing her elbow. Ava stumbles but regains her balance quickly, eyes whipping to the shadowy figure. He stands at six feet, with muscles but not armed with anything but a gun. His glittering dark eyes meet Ava's before she lunges at him. Without giving the man time to evade her blow, she manages to get him square in the throat. He heaves and loses his step, while Ava grins at him through drying tears. Not the time for dramatic effects. She swipes off the duffle and runs the opposite way.  If there is one, more are bound to come.  And she is right.  Not ten steps later her ankles catch an invisible wire, throwing her to the floor. Her chin cracks against the concrete as she bites down on a scream. Stupid, stupid. Her vision explodes in a myriad of lights and colors as the coppery bitterness of blood floods her mouth and nose.  Blinking the haze away, she swiftly rolls and finds a wall to put her back on. Slowly, the figures emerge from the shadows, sizing her up.  She gives them everything they want. This is all she can do now.   "Tripwires," Her teeth glint red when she smiles, much to their horror. "How 90s of you."  First, she sees two. The one who set up the wire trap, and the one who she ran from. Then the third one joins with his gun pointed right in her face—threatened. But their faces are concealed, the alley too dark to even make out the color of their eyes.  So she shifts the attention to the rookie, a false saccharine tone, "Wow. A gangbang." She sees it coming. He flips the gun and jabs the butt into her cheek. She hisses out a cuss, hardly containing herself. Think, think.  "Shut your mouth." He replies, voice young. Even though her eyes turn to the rookie, her attention stays fixed on the other two men. A tripwire, singular weapon. They knew what route she took, they knew exactly where to find her.  This is planned. They baited her.  Ava spits on the group while one of them casts his eyes around for signs of additional presence. She almost laughs. A second ago she was half asleep on the couch and now she has three strange men breathing down her neck. Usually, her role is reversed.  "So, what's the plan?" She forces her shoulders to relax, calling a look of exhaustion over her features. "Are you going to take me?"  One of the two finally speaks, albeit through his teeth, " You can come willingly. Or yes, we can take you."  "Where am I going?"  "This is a waste of time." An older voice. His dark eyes glint as he takes in her crumpled form. "I will do it."  Ava meets his glossy eyes and stays quiet as a serpent. Waiting and luring.  When there is a moment of silence, she murmurs incoherently. The rookie and the older man leaned in close, unable to help their pride.  "What did you say?" A small opening, a gaping trap. She strikes.  Ava's arm lashes out to catch the rookie's head and bring it down to her knee. At the same time, she rams her head into the teeth of the older voice. Two echoing groans of pain, their shadows lifting off her.  She wastes no time as she sees the only man standing reach down for something.  Ava leaps on him as if to embrace, to catch him off guard. The man stands stiff as a rock when Ava decides to push. His knees buckle and he begins to fall when her only points of contact are her elbows and knees. She hears no crack upon impact, to her disappointment, but the man lies motionless beneath her.  She hears nothing but her thundering heart and her ragged breathing for a second.  The pain thrumming in her jaw begins to sing in her ears. The exhaustion hits her first, then the blurred vision. No. Keep moving. She needs to go now. She can't falter. She can't afford another fake surrender.  Ava pushes off the muscled body, whipping her head to both ends of the alley.  She can't remember where she came in from. Why can't she remember?  Ava's brows furrow in concentration. What was she going to do? Where was she headed? Ava's chest caves. She suddenly realizes she can't move anymore, and she knows what that means. Feeling leeches from her knees and falls before she can regain sense. A low laugh falls from the man beside her, filling her stomach with burning shame. His glittering eyes fall low, and Ava dares to follow them.  A needle in her ankle. No, that is not what makes her choke. It is the content in it.  Wide, black holes tear into her vision. Laughter surrounds her. She fumbles for her knife, but she can't recall where she put it. Flashes of Lilah and Dale invade her mind, mixing with reality.  Ava swings mindless to no avail. They capture her wrists and pin her down to the concrete. Breaths come in short, painful bursts. Her senses betray her more and more. She can't see, she can't see.  "Easy," says one of them, snarling. She can't make out who. "It's almost over."  Ava cries out, anger and frustration crawling inside her chest. Disgust and hatred for herself thunder down her veins. This is what she was trained for her whole life. Had Dale seen the weakness in her before throwing her out? Will her friends laugh at her, too? Words intended to come out as sharp become slurred. "Let me go. Let me go." A firm hand comes over her mouth as her overcast eyes slowly begin to give out. Light bleeds from her vision and she only sees three pairs of eyes glowing in triumph before it is all gone.