THE GOOD PROTECTOR

After a woman finished her press briefing at Cresh Hotel, in the heart of Sefford City, she strolled through the parking lot as six close protection agents in black suits escorted her. Two agents are walking ahead of the group, keeping their eye on the surrounding, while the rest are guarding her. The woman in front is agent Michelle Santarez, the only female in team Bravo, in-charge of neutralizing threat during operations but the smallest among her colleagues around five feet and six to eight inches tall. Within a distance, before they could reach the principal vehicle, a loud bang rippled in the open. One of the bodyguards fell to the ground, and blood oozed from his right arm. People screamed as they ran for cover, others drove their cars away. “Enemy at 2 o’clock!” Michelle announced. She drew her pistol from her holster and fired back to the unknown assailant as she took a step backward to cover her companions. Meanwhile, the securities behind nabbed the client, they covered her in their immense bodies and rushed her to the unmarked SUV. Meantime, the driver swooshed the car towards the VIP and the escorts and met them in the middle. The group boarded in the automobile and fled the place while the remaining are neutralizing the three attackers as they witnessed the bullets whizzing through the air, terrorizing everybody. Agent Santarez hid in the front wheel of the black sedan, parked over a hundred meters’ distance from the shooter’s location. She changed her magazine, peeked from her hiding, and shot one combatant on the building’s exit door. Her bullet nailed him on his leg and he crumbled. The deafening sounds of gunshots echoed in the air while empty cartridge cases are flying from the two agents’ weapons. In a few seconds, a bullet hit Michelle in her clavicle, hurling her towards the parked Ferrari trunk. “I’m hit!” she screamed while clutching the wounded part of her torso. She dragged her body on the ground using her feet and elbow and found a safe spot. “This is Bravo 6, what your status?” a voice from her radio. “The enemy is still out there. Rick was on his last ammo and I’m hit!” “You must leave! The police are on their way!” “Copy,” she snooped around. Agent Ruze was unconscious in a distance, bathing in a pool of blood, while across her is Rick who rolled from the vehicle’s rear side, exposing himself to the enemy. At the end of his exhibition, he was in a prone position. He aimed his pistol in the forward direction, and in an instant, he pulled the trigger. They both heard the last enemy’s sound of agony, then nothing follows. There was a brief silence. Afterward, people get out of their hiding and terror filled their eyes. “You’re bleeding!” Rick said to her, still lying, pressing her clavicle. “Check agent Ruze first,” she said and attempted to get herself up, but did not move in an inch. “Stay with me, I’ll board agent Ruze in the car, then I’ll come back,” he said and piggybacked the unconscious man to their security vehicle. Michelle tried to move her arm, but to no avail, “Damn it! I can’t move. My arms are going numb.” Her gray T-shirt soaked in blood, revealing her firm torso. Her lips dried, her rounded face turned pale and she was out of breath. Later, everything went dark. # The hospital nurse transferred Michelle to the ward after her operation. Her team took turns visiting her.   “How do you feel?” a man asked when she opened her eyes, but the hospital’s white ceiling met her. A hospital is a place for treatment, but it disgusts her, more so the smell of drugs and other chemicals nauseates her. She can't say but doctors and nurses give her an eerie unexplainable feeling. “My upper body is aching, but this place makes me sicker. I need to go home,” she said in a low voice. She looked at the person sitting across her bed. A guy in five feet and six inches tall and he was in his 40s. An irregular line scarred on his forehead, a sign of his risky job. His huge muscular body shows what laborious calling he makes for a living. “I know you would say that. I can grant you two months’ vacation leave.” It was agent Randall’s voice, her team commander. “How’s agent Ruze? How's the VIP?” “No need to worry. You did a good job,” he said. “The attackers, were they identified?” “The investigation is still ongoing, but they survived. Leave that to the expert. Just take your time to recover. It bores the company without you,” and he cracked a smile. “But I prefer to rest in my apartment. I can’t sleep here,” she said. He heard her plead, but wrinkles increased on his forehead. He sighed and crossed his arms, looking at the patient. “I’ll talk to your physician,” he said and fled the room. # For her, leave for relaxation purposes bored her the most, but she took two months of vacation to recuperate faster. Her injury got better after six weeks, but boredom is killing her. For the earlier weeks, nothing changed from her daily routine. She spent the day watching Netflix movies, browsing the internet, ordering food deliveries, and twice a while, she visits her doctor in the hospital to change her dressing. Thrice a week, she goes out to the grocery stores or to the supermarket to buy her needs. Amidst the convenience and fewer worries from living alone, she was a messy woman. A visitor might suspect a robber must have gone through her things. There’s food splattered on the microwave and the greasy dishes in the sink are untouched. She left behind the mountain of dirty laundry in a corner. A half-eaten cheese sandwich lay on the chipped blue plate atop the glass side table with an empty pizza container box beside it. Behind her door, the garbage can overflow with sorts of non-biodegradable materials is unemptied. Her books are everywhere and jackets are hanging on the wall. The disorganized lifestyle is never benefiting, but Michelle learned to live with it ‘cause she believes she can start a new life after sorting everything starting from her unpleasant memory, the nightmare from five year's ago. She was an average woman, with lean but muscular arms and firm abs, a charisma on top of her Morena skin tone. However, it might be hard to confirm because she was out of herself for the past few days, looking like a haggard person in her late 20s, considering her disheveled long black hair and the dark spots around her eyes. Insomnia bothered her for a while due to her injury, so someone who sees her now might suspect her as an addict. # Later that afternoon, she was too lazy to cook, but her growling stomach irritated her. She opened the fridge and grabbed a pack of ready-to-eat sausage. When she was to savor her early dinner, a loud knock ruined her mood. “Who was it?” she inquired. She wasn’t expecting anyone to visit her. “I will not open that door unless you tell me your name!” The visitor intensified his knock creating a banging sound, but it was only for a short period, cause a few moments later, it stopped. She presumed the guest walked away. Then, here comes a crushing sound of something broken in her living room. It startled her for a second but after coming to her senses, she grabbed the kitchen knife from the rack and dashed behind the wall, barring the kitchen and the living room. The footsteps are heavy and peculiar but are coming towards her. She held her gasp and drew the knife to her chest. While holding the weapon tight, she strode backward as the criminal approached her direction. She dived on the trespasser, grasping his hand, and she surprised him in the middle of the attack. Her single blow in the neck startled him, but he dodged it. She pointed the knife at his bare face. “Easy! It’s me. It’s Rick,” he said, keeping his distance from the tip of her weapon. “What are you doing?” she raised her eyebrow. Now, a familiar face stood before her. It was his junior in his 20s, taller than she for six inches. He was staring at her with his round brown eyes. He was an attractive young man, appreciated for his as clean as slate face and fair skin tone, except his sensitivity to smell that once saved the rest of the squad from a deadly explosive. “For god’s sake! What the hell did you do?” she shouted. “You ungrateful girl. I came here to check on you. It's wonderful to see you lifting that… that shiny blade, but can you please keep it away from me?” “Who told you to break my window? Yo! I'll sue you for trespassing!” she threw the knife on the floor, frightening him. “Sure, I’ll drive you, but what’s that?” he said, covering his sharp nose with his jacket, looked around her apartment, and his eyes saw her lack of discipline in managing her abode. He hovered on the dining table and inspected the pieces of wasted bread and pasta. “What are these things?” he pointed to the cereals in the bowl and the stacked dirty dishes in the sink. “You know the real me,” answered Michelle. She put the full piece of sausage in her mouth. “No, but you got worse, brother! You need a housekeeper.” She chomped her food. “Quit your job and I'll hire you.” “Pay me double and ill resign right now. You’re no woman! You’re disgusting. Ugh, you’re worse than my sister.” “Cut the crap. What brought you here?” “I didn’t come here of my volition. Why did you shut off your phone? Listen, Sir Randall will transfer you to the unit of Charlie starting tomorrow. Anyway, what did your doctor say?” he jerked at her wound. “I’m able to work, but no strenuous physical activities. What? Did you just say team, Charlie? You’re kidding me.” “I overheard they named you to join their company,” he said, clearing the floor with his foot. He sat on the sofa and scavenged the leftovers at the end table. “You want to go in my stead?” Her junior raised both her hands. “No. No. I hate that favor. That's all I came to say. Now I have to go.” He stood and walked to the exit. “I’ll charge the broken window to your account,” she said, peeking at the door. “Yeah, sorry for that!” She messed up her hair and stomped on the wooden chair. The idea of going into the mission together with the squad leader of Charlie annoyed her. It’s still fresh in her mind how that guy rejected her in front of his fellow agents. That incident was the most humiliating she has ever experienced and she hated him for that. It was her discipline to shut off her device during her vacation and this time; she spent fourteen days with no means of communication, but after Rick informed her of the order; she searched her phone from the desk drawer. Upon turning it on, hundreds of notifications from familiar names popped up, but a message from an unknown international number caught her attention. The chills ran down her spine and sweat formed on her forehead. -I know what happened five years ago. You will learn the details later, but I have a condition. Find anything related to this logo.- The picture illustrates a circle shape enclosing a blue diamond. She called the unknown number, but it was unattended. Instead, she replied with a message “Who are you?” She counted minutes and hours, but nothing happened. She sent another reply, “What do you know about that incident?” However, midnight came and no message arrived from the same number. The ray of hope she was holding on to was not fading but rather empowered when she received the message. Her yearning for a response that could satisfy her thirst for truth, rid any spot of impatience in her personality. It was 1,825 days since that day when a horrible event became part of her life and she endured the five years of living with fear and frustration. Therefore, hours or few days are nothing to her. She will endure the challenge of waiting, not the torture of remembering the past. Despite all her efforts to repress the memory, heaven must have hated it, because this night reminded her of that tragedy. It was a rainy season at that time and she was preparing for her licensure examination. It was quarter to midnight, but she was awake scanning her books when someone called her name twice. She hesitated for a few minutes, thinking she misheard it. Thereafter, a knock disturbed her. The unprecedented sound puzzled her but she went out and checked, and something was there, which she never expected. It imprinted the event in her memory as if it happened only yesterday. # Morning came, but it still haunted Michelle to the bones. She closed her almond-shaped eyes and let out a scream. Tears rolled on her cheeks, she wiped it with her palm and screamed again. After calming herself for a while, she stared at her phone beside her. She remembered the text she received last night, and her heart beat faster as she reached out for it. She drew a deep whiff and pressed the power button. Her device powered on and a message popped out on the notification bar. It was the number she was waiting for the most. “If you’re interested, comply with my condition, then come and find me in Osaka, Japan. After reading this message, don’t call or text this number unless you bring me back good news, otherwise, you’ll never find the truth.” This person just confirmed her convictions, removed the spot of lingering doubt that she can never rid of her fears, fear that she won’t be able to find the truth. The only question is how could she trust the unidentified messenger. # Upon reporting to Gent security agency, her teammates greeted her with a warm welcome, but it went to the drain when Aljhon, the unit leader of Charlie, showed up in their office. “I’m glad you’re back, agent Santarez. Pack your things and see me at my office. I have received your transfer order,” he said as he showed her the folder he was carrying. “But can I talk first with my squad leader?” she looked at Randall and waited for his approval. “I have something to tell her. She will come in few minutes,” Randall said. “Okay,” he replied, but his stare and manner of talking pushed Rick to kick the chair beside him. The Bravo agents never wanted him, except maybe for women unaware of his attitude. He took his arrogant behavior with him when he left the room. Michelle turned to her boss, then winked at her fellow officers to let them exit. Her superior led her to his room, but next to the entire team’s own office. “I need another week of leaver, sir. I have a personal matter to attend,” she said. “What do you mean? I have signed your transfer request. You heard agent Aljhon.” “That’s why I need to talk to you first. Sir, please cancel it. Besides, why send me to them? Have I done something wrong?” Randall shook his head. “No. It’s only temporary, and agent Aljhon asked me to approve it 'cause he needed you,” he said. “It's urgent sir. I need to take another break. You told me I have accumulated four months of unused leave.” Randall smirked at her, “Yeah, but it will not work this time.” She wanted to explain her reasons, but something stopped her. “What do you want me to do?” she asked instead. “It’s a shame, you can’t do anything to change my decision,” he said. He stood, headed for the exit. Michelle leaped from the sofa and held him back on his right arm before he could reach for the doorknob. “You know, holding my hand without my permission is s****l harassment,” he jerked his head on her arm, clinging to his. “I’m not interested in you,” she let go of him. “What I’m saying is please grant my leave.” “Then answer me. Why did you steal my file from the human resource office? What do you want to know?” The question choked her, and the adrenaline inactivated her brain from reacting according to her instinct. There was a moment of silence. “We are teammates, but you have lots of secrets we don't know.” She swallowed and held a step back from his boss, who suspected her intentions. Her colleagues are her family and friends she trusted amongst everything but not him, not this man. “Though I can’t judge my own, I have done nothing serious about anyone except for doing my job protecting dirty politicians and suspicious celebs,” he said. She doesn’t know what to say. “Your silence means you’re hiding something. I trust you for your credible job performance, but I’m not sure whether I could trust you as a friend or a colleague.” “Neither do I, sir, cause I found something about you. Hear me, and I’ll tell you,” she said at last after she gathered her courage. “So you are striking a deal? I'm your boss and I’m giving you a direct order, I don’t want to repeat myself, pack your things. They are waiting for you,” he said and went out. It was a disappointing decision, but she knew better, that going against him would not benefit her aside from undergoing the discipline committee for insubordination. # Team Charlie was in a meeting when she arrived at their office. All eyes are on her, but she was confident they find her unattractive, rather; she looks like a fool to them. “Agent Michelle Santarez, reporting for duty.” “Sit anywhere you want,” Aljhon said. She chose the table at the back, hoping she could hide from everybody’s prying eyes. “As I was saying,” the team leader continued, “agent Santarez is our new member. I bet everyone here knows her,” he smirked, but Michelle caught on what he meant, and deep inside her, she was melting. The meeting ended, and she approached Aljhon in his office. “Why me?” she asked. “What do you mean?” “I heard you named me to join your team for a while. Why?” “Then let me ask you, do you think it's for a personal reason?” Michelle clenched her fist and her teeth gritted but she stopped. Her eyes dilated. On top of the man’s desk was his phone, but the wallpaper excited her. It was a design of a circle shape enclosing a blue diamond. Her eyes sparkled and crinkled. *****next chapter*****