Chapter One: Something Borrowed.
The call came at 4 a.m. from an unknown number. She answered it on the first ring.
"Elena here." Laced with sleep, her voice felt weak against the humid air.
"Warning. There has been an intruder alert-" the location made Elena jump out of her bed and onto her motorcycle.
She made it in thirty minutes by running three ran red-lights and rolling through the stop signs, but still the WRO officers had beaten her there. The open gate and the conglomeration of red hats formed at the entrance to the President's home made her racing heart beat faster. Elena hadn't thought to change into her Turk garb so early in the morning. In her blue shorts and white tank top, she looked like a civilian. Old school Turk rules would have clipped on a tie under such short notice. She didn't think anyone else would answer the call. It was a rookie mistake.
"At least I had the decency to put shoes on." She set the kickstand on her bike and zipped her gray crop jacket a little higher. She started toward the home, surveying for any damage beyond the ugly jumpsuits sitting on the porch.
One of those said white suits started toward her when she came to the foot of the steps. He held up a hand to the blonde. The officer insignia puffed out on the concave shape of his torso. Elena recognized him at the smell of his breath.
"This is a private lot. No access for civilians." His black sunglasses reflected the full moon. Elena straightened her shoulders to the point where she could feel the vertebrae melding together.
"Seriously? It's me." She craned her neck up to the man. She remembered him from the few missions and surveillance jobs they had outsourced to the WRO. His last name started with a hard consonant that she couldn't recall. He led the security team around the heavy hitters of the organization. He knew her. She knew he did.
"Can't confirm anything without identification, ma'am." He stepped closer.
Elena rolled her eyes and reached for her pocket. However, her hands didn't go into the recesses of her running shorts. Instead, they hit the elastic waistband and a nail scratched ay of the pale skin underneath. She swore aloud and searched for another pocket on her body.
"Did I forget my wallet?" The man smirked and repeated his orders before.
"I don't have time for this."
"This is a matter of security, ma'am." The moonlight made his face seem like pure marble against the brim of the crimson wool and the high collar.
"This house isn't even in your district!" Her blood boiled under her cheeks. The stamp of her left foot came naturally - she hated that about herself. She knew better than to be intimidated by the organization, but the rules and guidelines that came with them dampered her days significantly.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He was a rather short man she worked with once or twice when times were especially desperate, reached out a meaty, gloved hand to grab Elena's shoulder.
"H-hey! You can't handle me like this!" She could feel the other officers smirking at her from the porch. He began to push her forward to her bike. Elena kicked against the dirt wishing she'd remembered her gun. She didn't like using violence against others unless it was a last resort and any sins committed against this guy would be well documented and on her record within the next week.
But still the idea of a bullet lodged in the protruding skin of his uniform made her feel better.
The silver car with the red LED lights pull behind Elena's sportbike. The pounding rap music let all the world know that Reno was in the driver's seat. He shut off the car and stepped out in full uniform - black suit with a loose tie and partially unbuttoned shirt. He started toward the two sometimes coworkers. She didn't seem him reach into his pocket, but he did flash his own white I.D. card to the pudgy, wannabe bully.
"Move. Turk coming through." Reno grabbed Elena's free arm and pulled her harder than the officer. Thered faced man sputtered something about checking papers, but Reno had a choice finger waiting for him.
"God. Fuck the WRO." He pulled Elena in front of him and ordered to her to walk. She heard the distinctive click of a loaded gun.
"Is this where you put me out behind the fence?"
"No. This is when that training HR disapproved of comes into practice." He added something else under his breath, but Elena didn't pay attention. The redhead moved beside her after he placed his weapon back in his jacket pocket.
They walked back up to the front porch. Another officer, this time a woman, delivered the same news.
"We can't let you through, sir. This is a crime scene."
"Sure you can: I work here."
"Sir-"
"We got one of two options here." Reno opened his jacket slightly to reveal his other weapon. The woman readied her own gun. Elena tried not to smirk, everyone knew the WRO's standard rifles were severely outdated. Her arms folded over her chest to hide the sight of her thumb popping the joints in her fingers, the sound reverberated in the night air.
It was at this time that the heavy front door swung open.
"Reno." Rude's voice was low and tired. He stood in the doorway in full Turk uniform. "Put the rod away."
Reno began to shake his head. The officer grabbed her rifle tighter.
"Brady." Rude tried again, this time to the main officer, "they are both mine. Let them in."
Brady hesitated for a moment before letting the assault rifle fall back to her hip. She stepped out of the pathway for the door to allow the Turks through. Reno started first, his swagger caused a few second looks by the other female WRO officers. Elena came in ten steps behind him.
She saw the barrel of the gun flash in the moonlight, but it didn't register with her until she tripped over the cold metal. The officers snickered watching her regain her footing. Rude ushered her into the house and made sure to lock the door behind him.
"Rude, why didn't you -"
"What the hell is their problem?" Reno and Elena's voices intertwined to create an even bigger headache for the Turk on duty. His sunglasses were on and his lips pressed into a firm line. In any other scenario, someone would have a made a joke.
"The alarm went off forty-five minutes ago in the upstairs film room."
"Anything missing?" Elena spoke this time. Reno made a tch sound with his tongue.
"Not anything I saw, but you two can search. Elena: take the upstairs, especially the President's room and bathroom. Reno: take the downstairs. I'll secure the grounds. Everyone has a weapon, right?"
"Erm. I have my fists." Rude took the comment to glance at his female colleague for the first time that night. Elena felt naked in her 3 inch shorts and blue gym shoes.
"Do the best you can." Translation: the gun safe is open. Rude handed her a flashlight before Elena trotted up the stairs into the dark rooms.
The code name for the President's new home was Paradise. It took more than a year to build and featured white stucco walls, painted tile, a terracotta roof, and a large wooden gate in the courtyard. He had the idea to build it shortly after Elena was released from the hospital. She escorted him to most of the meetings and zoned in and out while he planned four bedrooms and five bathrooms with an open concept kitchen and pool house. It turned out grand enough for a former world leader. He commissioned ivy to grow on the wall to deter any would-be detectives, or worse, journalists.
How mad he was going to be when he find out his courtyard currently hosted over a dozen WRO officers. She didn't want to be the one to relay that news.
Well, she mentally corrected herself, Tseng would break the news, but that means someone has to tell Tseng.
She was not in the position to talk to the Director.
The flashlight shined into the darkness when she reached the top of the stairs. Elena didn't look immediately for any signs of intrusion or disarray, instead she kept her light beam on the walls until she found the little black safe. Her lip caught itself between her teeth.
The code was easy enough because Rude's idea for an algorithm for passwords was simple: the most memorable date for everyone in the group. She grabbed for the smallest pistol and pocketed the accompanying bullets in her sports bra.
She started in the upstairs film room. The glass from the main window laid on the floor in small, jagged pieces. Definitive signs of a break in. She cocked her gun before moving to the office. She found none of the locked drawers tampered with and the crumpled balls of paper still in the waste basket. The next room, the unoccupied bedroom, still boasted a queen-sized bed and 100" television. Everything looked in place. Elena moved on to the other rooms, no sign of abnormalities here.
The door to Rufus' bedroom was ajar, but that could've been through Rude's walkthrough. She pushed the heavy oak aside and resisted flipping the lights on. She blended her shadow with the dimensions of moonlight and looked over the made bed. Tip-toeing to the bathroom she felt for the door and, with the slight jerk of her foot, inched it open.
The sound of rustling alerted the blonde. Her fists held the back of the gun parallel to her nose. She aligned her back with the edge of the door. The breath in her lungs stilled when her head swiveled left and right.
Nothing.
She side stepped into the bathroom.
The full moon illuminated the marble tiles and whirlpool tub. The open window let the breeze take over the small curtain. It smelled clean and her shoes squeaked.
The small black feather trying to pick up traction from the floor didn't escape Elena's sight. She crossed the room, holding the pistol in her left hand and knelt down to examine the elongated object. The moonlight illuminated the small sparkles across the barbs and the ripples of the waves along the body. It was exquisite to touch, like silk on an autumn night.
The rustling sound came again. Her neck jerked to her right side so she could look over her shoulder. The darkest corners of the bathroom houses the toilet and rain shower.
She laid the gun on the floor and reached for her flashlight. The beam came suddenly, almost scaring her it's quickness, and shined into the shadows.
Nothing again.
Elena felt the spidery legs of suspicion crawl through her veins. Her knees popped when she lifted off the floor. One hand held the flashlight and the other the gun. From this distance, she could see the burnt wick of a candle and make out the quilting in the toilet paper. The sound of the rustling, however, was nowhere in the beam.
She hated the darkness. To turn on the bathroom light would alert too many people and, possibly, put her in more danger if there were an intruder. That's what they taught her in the Academy - the shadows were her friends.
With all due respect to the Academy, Elena learned that the darkness wasn't out to help her. It only did its job of hiding what doesn't want to be seen. A fickle creature who worked for money and notoriety only. There was nothing good about darkness.
The beam shined through the corners again. Nothing. Thin, light blonde wisps of hair fell in front of her eyes, tickling her lashes and tempting her to sneeze. Elena gritted her jaw, letting the sensation pass. The sense that she was the one watched and not the watcher grew stronger. The fear alone caused the hairs on her spine to stiffen.
As silent as she could, Elena pressed herself against the wall with the bathroom door's shadow cast over it. She wished she had been smarter and just worn her uniform - some true Turks of the past were known to sleep in it. The dark wool would have made her blend in better. These shorts had reflective material on them.
That's when the self doubt realized she was awake.
That noise couldn't have been made in her head, could it? The psychologist said that was possible…
She shook the thought away. She had heard something, but maybe it wasn't as sinister as she thought. After all, even the slightest car backfire made her jump three feet and the task of loading the dishwasher unnerved her when the glasses hit against one another. She rationalized all the possibilities: the window was open and it's a windy night, she had a habit of dragging her feet, and, finally, she was scared of the dark.
The gun unloaded with ease. She rolled one of the bullets in between her thumb and forefinger before finally shutting off the flashlight beam and sneaking her way back to the staircase.
Reno and Rude were waiting for her at the bottom. Reno stood with his arms crossed. Elena watched her reflection in Rude's glasses.
"Nothing." She reported.
"Nothing." They answered.
Rude nodded. He'd been the Turk on Duty; he was to write the report. That report was to go to Tseng's inbox first thing in the morning - no doubt causing The President to come home from whatever business venture he was pursuing and ruining a perfectly good Saturday for the team. Elena regarded Reno, who had turned on the chandelier in the main foyer while Rude calculated how to word this report in the safest way possible. He sauntered back into the triangle.
"Since we're here." He began, staring at his watch, "might as well borrow some of the stash in that wine cellar."
The whole scene played out routinely. Reno calmly made the suggestion and Rude's facial features lessened by a sixteenth of an inch. It was the closest thing one could get from Rude during a mission to a "yes," but it seemed that he cultivated this sign language with Reno. The redhead, who in turn, knew it was his place to suggest the idea. The two men were stressed out, more so than usual, and defiance made them relax.
Elena knew her dialogue for this scene by heart.
"No thanks," she yawned. "It's late… or early … depending how you look at it. Um, anyway. I'm going back to bed."
"Suit yourself."
That she did. She walked out into the crisp night air with her helmet under one arm, and that feather tucked safely into the waistband of her pants.