Agent Spectre

Yes or No answers

The confidence within the agency deteriorated after the death of one of the agency’s greatest. Many agents hid with fear, leaving the agency to perish and for the remaining agents, the ones who stayed, to fend off the increasing amount of cruel and vicious criminals.

Our top agents were all send on the same mission, to find out who killed Spectre. Confusion spun round the heads of our director and everyone else, as it was expected for someone to brag about killing the great Spectre. Yet each agent came back empty handed with no signs pointing in any direction.

Each witness of the assassination was exposed to long and tedious hours of torturous questioning, these sessions lasted anywhere between four to twelve hours, with no water or bathroom facilities as they desperately combed through any potential clues that would lead them to an answer of who and how did Spectre’s killer know that she would be there.

My questioning was nothing different to how the agents prior had described it, for eight tiresome hours I sat in an enclosed room, where the air conditioners remained off as I sat in my own sweat. A lie detector sat with me throughout my session, strapped to my arm and chest.

“Would you consider your relationship with agent Six, as close?” They asked

“No”

“Is there any reason for us to suspect that you were the killer or assisted in killing agent Six?”

“No”

“If we were to review past tapes of you, would we find recordings of interactions between you and Six?”

“I had to meet with her before the mission”

“Yes or No answers please”

I let out an irritated sigh, “Yes”

Eventually the longest hours of my life dragged to an uneventful close when a man, not familiar to me, opened the door and told the agent questioning me that that was long enough. Then as if a switch was flipped the agent questioning me smiled and handed me a refreshing bottle of still water.

Rumoured whispers continued to float around the agency as agents questioned if there was just one assassination or if there would be more in the future, distant and near. Many made the assumption that someone was out to kill our top agents and whether our last remaining specialized agent, if the myth was true, would be the next target.

As time passed by my training sessions grew more and more intense, as being the decoy was no longer an option for me. Strategically I have been keeping my head down, hoping to not get a mission as since the assassination, I to have lost my confidence, but for a different reasoning.  For the majority of the day I live in the gym as I go through it’s different areas of development, hoping that the next time I am in the field, I will hold more confidence when battling the targets.

My fists fly with rage into the worn out fabric of the punching bag, sweat trickles down my face as I try to beat away my anger and despair. Blood drips from my knuckles as they plead with me to stop throwing them against this hard fabric.

Behind me footsteps approach, the soles of the leather shoes harshly tap against the brown wooden laminated floors. They stop behind me, keeping their distance from my flying fists. My wet blonde strands are glued in thicker bundles whilst they rub against the side of my flushed face.

I drill my last few punches before turning to the agent that stands patiently in his navy blue uniform with a brown envelope in his grasp.

“Agent Forty-Three” the agent says with a stoic tone, “You have been summoned” He says, handing me the small envelope and then walking away.

Heavily my chest rises and falls as I open up the envelope. A simple white piece of paper fills the envelope, in the centre instructions are written, ‘Meet Director Beckett at Six hundred hours in her office’

I look up at the grand clock that hangs on the wall, constantly ticking through the day. The larger hand hits the twelve sending out a chime of notice that it is now five o’ clock.

I grab my towel that sits on top of my duffel bag, I use it to wipe away any excess sweat that is yet to dry against my face. Collecting my things, I leave the arena and head to the showers. Warm water washes away my fatigue, momentarily I forget all of my worries as the water trickles down my body and numbs my pain.

After spending a couple of extra minutes in the shower I dress in the appropriate attire when meeting with the Director, a navy blue suit with a matching blue tie. Neatly I comb back my hair making myself presentable enough.

I walk towards the Director’s office with worry, with this being my first time interacting with the Director I hold no expectations besides the ones created by the stories of the other agents. I begin to speculate as to why out of the blue I have been summoned to none other than the Director’s office.

I button my blazer as I reach her secretary’s desk, the secretary continues to type away on her computer, with her fingers viciously hitting against the keys, her eyes refuse to leave her screen as her eyebrows stay furrowed with concern.

“You’re late” The secretary states.

I look up at the clock that hangs behind her,

“It’s six”

She sends me an irritated look, “If there is a meeting with the Director, you arrive ten minutes prior in case she is ready for you earlier, for an agent that is common knowledge”

My response is interrupted by a flashing red light that sits on top of her computer, with the same irritated tone she says, “The Director will see you now”

A smug look forms on my face, “So I was on time then”

The lady sends me one of the scariest death stares that I have ever received, it does not compare to Spectre’s but in comparison to anyone else’s it is impressive.

Taking that as a hint to drop the smug look, I straighten my blazer as I approach the grand doors separating us from the Director. Automatically the doors open revealing the modern styled office of the Director.

Behind a grand wooden desk, the Director sits in a black leather chair. Her hair is tightly pulled back into a bun without  a hair daring to stray out of place. A stoic look sits on her face as she writes on a document with a straight posture. Awkwardly I stand by her door, taking in the neatness of her office as everything was neatly place, the desk is situated in a centre position between two walls.

“Take a seat Agent Forty Three” Her firm voice instructs.

Obligingly I take a seat opposite to hers and settle into its cushioned pillow. She continues to complete her document, once completed she puts down her pen and grabs my full attention with her cold green eyes.

“Agent Forty Three, thank you for joining me” She acknowledges, “The reason you have been summoned this evening is simple, I know that you lied during your questioning” She says getting straight to the point, refusing to sugar coat her reason for my summon. 

I have been through plenty of missions and have been accused of many things, but this accusation is definitely the most severe considering that it is coming of the Director herself. I hesitate to answer, knowing well that this is going to be another long questioning.