They tend to only send the best of us on formal missions, due to their unpredictability and the fact that we don’t have any idea what we’re walking into.
Usually, there is no room for mistakes. Only today there is; we could walk around all night and not find him, and still complete the mission. For the first time, I’ve left The Academy with the orders not to kill someone.
There’s a first for everything, I suppose.
Though I would argue most people’s firsts do not involve not taking a life every time they leave the house, or an abandoned warehouse with a brutal training academy in the basement.
“Darlia? Any updates?” Lauren interrupts my thoughts again.
“Where are you?” I ask instead, wanting to know if she is actually doing something or if she’s just standing around like Lauren usually does. Lauren might be a good friend, but she is a terrible assigned partner.
And in our world, your assigned partner matters more than your friend.
“Close to the stage, right side.”
Immediately, my eyes scan the room for her, and I find Lauren in the corner doing anything but blending in.
Sticking out like a sore thumb, Lauren wraps her arms around her stomach anxiously. An emotion that should have been trained out of us by now, but not her. Several guests look at her with concerned glances, but none dare to approach.
“Any sign of him?” I ask again, watching as Lauren shakes her head from across the room.
“No, nothing yet.” With a groan of frustration, I start walking around the room, watching as some of the elites dance, clearly in their element, while others just stand around talking, drinking glasses of champagne. Everyone looks like they belong here.
Everyone but me and Lauren.
Though Lauren looks out of place because of how anxious she is. I, on the other hand, have been trained to stand straight and to always look emotionless. I’m not even aware I am looking unapproachable until I see another guest look me up and down before walking away. Clearly deciding against approaching me.
Then I see him; Target 106.
Standing outside and leaning against the railing, the target is smoking a cigarette.
He’s tall, like really tall, with messy, dark brown hair that has a slight curl to the strands that frame his face.
The target’s skin is tanned with a subtle, pink tinge, like someone who regularly spends time in the sun. His eyes are a dark brown with a ring of golden-hazel flecks. I clocked the slightly faded scar that runs horizontally over the bridge of his nose, and the other in his left eyebrow that appears fresher.
Found you.
Taking a step outside, a gust of wind brushes past me, sending goosebumps down my arms. The sky, only noticeable from the gap of the tin roof around the tree, is filled with stars flashing bright and bold.
“Lost?” the target asks, his voice gruff as he takes another puff of his cigarette, not even bothering to look at me. But I don’t miss the judgement clouding his eyes.
“No, just wanted some fresh air.” I offer him my nicest smile before stopping a few steps behind the target. “Having fun?” I ask, adding a softness to my voice that isn’t usually there.
“Oh yeah, being in a crowded room full of people I don’t know is my idea of fun. You?”
I’m outside of The Academy, so I consider this to be much more fun than the alternative, which was having to fight Lauren on the mat.
“You could say that,” I finally respond before quickly adding, “but it is quite warm in there, not the most enjoyable.”
“Mhmm,” the target replies, less than impressed with my attempt to talk to him.
I don’t like it. I’ve never had to impress a target before.
“What did you do before this?” The target’s eyebrows raise in surprise at my question before he replies,
“Stuff.”
Groaning internally and rolling my eyes, I turn to him with the brightest smile I can muster without it looking fake.
