Yassen looked to the horizon. Tomorrow he would graduate, tomorrow he would be a fully-fledged member of Scorpia, tomorrow he would be out of Malagosto and would be sent on his first mission.

The young Russian man did not smile as a feeling of content settled over him. He could finally start his dream career.

'I want you to go undercover for us, Yassen,' said Julia Rothman.

Yassen could hardly conceal a sigh, but did not argue with Mrs Rothman. It was a bad idea for anyone to do, even someone who would one day become one of the best assassins in the world. Yassen did not like undercover work. His specialty was killing without question, not pretending.

Yassen remained silent as an indication for Mrs Rothman to continue.

'We have a client that wants to put the CIA out of business. He is offering a lot of money. I do not know what grudge he has against them, but it is better this way; we will not get involved in their personal feud. He is developing a chemical that will be able to kill all the people in a single room - and hopes to plant it in the headquarters of the CIA. However, the CIA are looking into his past and monitoring him - he has received word from somewhere that they are sending an agent in. He wants us to send one of our own to make sure the CIA agent does not discover anything. I've chosen you, Yassen,' said Mrs Rothman.

'I'm honoured,' he replied.

'CIA already knows of you - you're a Russian MI6 agent - I found someone similar to you that worked for the MI6 - he is disposed of so you can take up his mantle. You've recently moved to America and now want to work for the CIA. One of our own already planted in the CIA will make sure that you get the mission. All that you have to do is make sure that your partner does not find out anything about the upcoming scheme our client is planning. It is vital that she does not die - otherwise the CIA will know something is up. Make sure also that she trusts you,' said Mrs Rothman.

'People do not naturally trust me,' said Yassen.

'I know, I know,' she said. 'I'll give you a little advice - act caring. Pretend to be her friend. Be casual. Indulge her a bit. Even pretend to love her, if you like,' said Mrs Rothman.

'I understand,' said Yassen.

'Good. Now you're such a top-ranking student that I'm sure you'll succeed,' she said, patting him on the shoulder and walking away. Somebody who didn't know Mrs Rothman would assume that was a compliment - but in fact it was a warning. She was really saying - 'if you fail, you're dead.'

Yassen did not want to die.

x.x.x

Tamara Knight was not an ordinary 19 year old. Fresh out of school, leaving with a relatively good mark, one would wonder why she wasn't in university. She lived by herself in a small flat in Boston; the rest of her family had moved to Canada a few years ago, leaving her in Boston to finish her schooling. As a school student, she had also been training with the CIA. When she had first turned 19 she had been sent on her first mission. Now, nearing 20, she had been on quite a few missions.

Tamara picked up her ringing mobile phone. It was not her ordinary phone that was ringing - it was one which only one person knew the number of.

'Yes, Joe?' she asked.

'I have a mission for you,' said the voice of the man called Joe.

'You want me at headquarters?' asked Tamara.

'Yes. Immediately,' said Joe, hanging up. Tamara sighed.

She changed and quickly grabbed her handbag before heading out. Her handbag did not carry items ordinary women had; or at least extraordinary ordinary objects. The lipstick she carried was really a stick of dynamite that could be set off by twisting the lid 360 degrees and pulling the cap off quickly. The PDA she carried was a special device with access to all CIA contacts, anywhere in the world, that could also detect radio, infrared, electromagnetic and any other kind of wave you could think of. Her iPod was an effective eavesdropping device and also an explosive. The pen wrote in invisible ink that could only be revealed under a chemical specifically designed for the CIA.

'What is it this time?' asked Tamara.

'There's a case I would like you to look into,' said Joe, placing his hands onto the table. 'There is a man called Mr Stevenson that runs a company called Stevenson Pharmaceuticals. The company is known to be a pioneer in medicine and also highly recognised. However, we suspect that there is more behind the professional façade. I would like you to go to Sydney, where the company is based, to investigate. I've created fake identities for you and your partner to use - you're two scientists that are a couple, applying for jobs in the industry. I would like you to watch their progress and report any abnormalities,' said Joe. Tamara nodded.

'You partner is Dimitri Ivanovitch,' said Joe. A handsome young man of 22 or so years of age entered. He had light blonde hair, closely cut, pale blue eyes, and pale skin. He was around 185 cm tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular body.

'Dimitri, this is Tamara,' said Joe.

'It is a pleasure to meet you,' said Yassen, shaking Tamara's hand.

'Nice to meet you too,' said Tamara.

'You understand what you must do?' asked Joe.

Yassen and Tamara nodded.

'Your flight leaves at 6 am tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep and make sure you are here at 3 am for a final briefing before going to the airport. We have provided fake passports and identities for you; you are two scientists that are a couple, simply because it is less suspicious than to unrelated scientists travelling and living together. Further details are in these files,' said Joe, sliding them across the table. 'Good luck.'

'Thank you,' said Tamara, leaving. Yassen left soon after.