Chapter 1:
My knife plunges into his chest as he gasps out his final pleas, a desperate attempt for the mercy I have been trained not to give.
Warm blood oozes into my palms as I twist the knife in his chest, hearing the familiar crack as the blade collides with bone, fracturing the rib.
I’ve become bored; each kill is the same. Why people can’t just learn to obey our protectors is beyond me. Our government keeps us safe and protected. Those who defy the law are sentenced to capital punishment.
It’s the reason The Academy was founded; we protect the innocent.
The target’s blood spills down my hands as I pull the knife from his chest. I don’t know his name, I don’t need to know it.
His code name, Target 105, the name The Academy assigned to him is the only detail I need. Wiping my knife on his shirt, I clean the blade from hilt to tip, watching the crimson stain his white dress shirt.
“Target 105 expired,” I say into my Academy-issued earpiece before walking around the target’s office to his computer.
Turning on the machine, I plug in my hard drive, watching the loading bar fill before a bright green 100% flashes on the screen of the device. Once it’s extracted all the information, I pull it out and place it in the pocket of my cargo pants.
I look out the penthouse windows to the blue sky above. It’s very rare that we get to see such a luxury when most of our time is spent in the underground training or on another mission.
Sometimes I swear I can see shapes in the clouds, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it.
“D, come on,” Lauren, my assigned partner, calls from outside the office door. The sound of her heavy footsteps makes its way towards the door of the office. Lauren comes on all my missions with me; it’s the whole reason for an assigned partner.
The agency pairs you when you’re ready, and then you train together until you can predict your partner’s moves before they make them.
I suppose she is what normal people would’ve called a friend before the war.
“Yeah, coming.”
Unplugging the hard drive from the computer, I roll up the cord and place it in the Velcro pocket on the side of my pants, fastening the straps before walking out.
Lauren’s eyes immediately meet mine as we scan each other. We’re trained to ‘Always scan your assigned partner for injury’. If your partner is injured, the Madam sends you both to the chair for two days for being weak, failing to protect your partner.
Lauren is the exact opposite of me. Long, blonde hair that is tied back into The Academy-mandated plait and light blue eyes that remind me of the sky. She is also one of the smallest girls in The Academy, standing at 5’2.
Sometimes, I hate how small she is, considering the disadvantage it gives us. But what she lacks in height, she makes up for in speed, giving her an advantage our targets usually don’t see coming.
“You okay?” Her voice is sweet. Somehow, after eleven years in The Academy, they still haven’t broken her down to be as cold and emotionless as the rest of us.
Another thing I hate about her, considering in our world it’s kill or be killed.
“Package is secure, let’s get out of here.”
I don’t look back as we walk towards the exit, the target lying dead in the chair as the elevator dings. Lauren and I step inside and stare back out to the bodies staining the carpets with blood.
The penthouse, a luxury only afforded to Zone Three, is now filled with a trail of blood and lifeless bodies on the ground. There are nine bodies left behind from the mission as the doors close, and we’re returned back down to the ground floor.
This is all normal, our normal. It’s what we were born to do.
Standing outside in his Academy-issued all-black suit is our Commander, Wolvrin Handler. The Academy has three Commanders, though we’ve only met one, Wolvrin, since he is the Commander assigned to Lauren and me. The Academy is very strict about who we can and can’t meet. The more faces we know, the more risk we bring if we’re captured.
The less we can identify, the safer we and The Academy are.
Wolvrin opens the SUV door, letting Lauren and I enter before sitting down in front of us. After the war, the government produced specialty SUVs for The Academy, and, as you would expect, the front two seats faced forward. The back seats, however, are separated. There is a divider between the front and back seats, and the two seats behind the driver are facing the back of the car. Instead of facing the driver, they face the Commander.
It’s designed for debrief after each mission, but also as surveillance. There have been cases of girls panicking after a mission, struggling to handle their role. It’s the Commander’s job to make sure we aren’t weak, which I’m not. Lauren worries me, though. If the Academy hasn’t broken her yet, they might never. Or maybe she’s just a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.
Either way, I’m worried about the fallout.
