Disclaimer: I don't own twilight and yada yada.

This was a bad idea.

Plain and simple.

Why was I going rogue and chasing down a possible lead? This was turning into a wild goose hunt, yet I was actually desperate enough to go through with it. How could I just blatantly ignore my months of controlled training and do something so drastic? I don't even recognise myself anymore - beep. My inner self-berating got put on pause when the little gadget in my hands beeped and flashed green. I took that as an indicator and left the gadget attached to the lock pad before bending down and wrenching open the garage door.

Since when did I start spewing soliloquies while on the job? Since when am I – I'm doing it again. I stop myself and take a breath, before clearing my mind. I'll get my answers after I finish this mission, or at least get closer to learning the truth. As long as I stick to the plan, I will be okay.

Except I didn't have a plan, just a rough outline of what needed to be done.

My irritation began to spike when I realised I couldn't switch on the lights, as that would probably alert any nearby neighbours that their neighbour's house was getting an uninvited visitor. Even though I only opened the door enough to be able to slip in, I knew that any light would be a dead giveaway since there was a lamp post stationed right outside the house. I instead opted to squint my eyes in the dark and focus on the silhouettes of the junk scattered along the floor. Judging by all the shit stacked in here, the owner definitely didn't use it for its purpose but rather a poorly kept storage room. Briskly walking around the piles of questionable contraptions – from what I could make out in the dark, I finally reached the door connecting to the house. To my luck it was unlocked, I guessed this was naturally a safe neighbourhood.

My intuition was telling me this was a bad idea. Normally, I would only try a 'breaking and entering' at night in a cityscape. There may be more people around, but the bigger the population the less watchful the eyes are and much easier to blend in once the job was done. Not to mention, way more escape routes available. Not saying that sneaking into a suburban house in the middle of fucking nowhere Forks, Washington was impossible, but without a handler and only one route to get into the neighbourhood, it was starting to look like an impossibly stupid idea.

Once inside the house, I opened my pockets and pulled out my disposable shoe covers and slipped them on. I hated putting these pesky things on, but I couldn't risk leaving any footprints. Yanking on the tiny led flashlight secured to my belt loop, I quickly switched it on to the lowest setting. I couldn't risk being exposed through the windows. Who knows how nosy these small town neighbours are.

Luckily, I had a basic rundown of the guy who lived in the house. He was in his mid-twenties, good looking fellow who newly just starting dating, therefore out of his house a lot – especially at night. Friday nights were date nights, and during the weekends he spent the day in the next town over until night time where he would hang out with his girlfriend until she left in the mornings. Some would say this was creepy to know all this information, I say it's being diligent.

Though it didn't matter how normal he may have seemed, because he was definitely in my line of business. I would have brushed off the tip from my informant if I didn't look into his atrociously normal looking lifestyle first. There was no logical explanation for a single occupancy man, to live in a house with four bedrooms in the middle of nowhere. So obviously I took the normal course of actions and spent weeks scouting him out. But if I am truly correct, then this also means I have to be even more careful than usual and leave no trace behind.

Unfortunately, I couldn't dig up much dirt on him online. I've checked through every database available, even the black market in search of anyone selling information on this twerp. Nada. I got zip. Either he is an incredibly tech savvy former agent and covered his tracks seamlessly… or I've actually got the wrong guy and wasted my time basically stal-scouting him for the past couple of weeks. Let's just hope for my dignity's sake, that I am correct on my lead.

I made my way through the rooms, looking for any indicators of where he may hide his files. A man who's tech savvy probably is paranoid enough to keep paper copies of everything, I mean in this day and age nothing is out of bounds for hackers. Which unfortunately meant, searching through his computer would be a waste of time.

As an agent, you're taught all the hiding spots people usually use. But for some reason I had an inkling this guy was going to be even tougher to crack. It's a good thing I'm the best at my job. Briefly glancing down at my watch, I noticed I was right on schedule. It was a Friday night which meant he'll be out with his new girlfriend at the diner near the next town. Then they would go for a stroll at the beach near her house before sneaking into said house for the night and he'd be back by four in the morning before her mother gets home from her night shift at her nursing job. I just hoped my in-depth stalking – I meant scouting was really worth it. Without wasting time, I started to go through his personal items.

You learn a lot about someone after going through their belongings, it can either be a good thing or a bad thing. Some agents can get attached, if they see something that reminds them of their own childhood, they can start becoming sentimental and thus ruining the mission before it can even get started. The good agents, however just skim through anything that'll give them hints to either finding what they were looking for in the first place or finding out their victims weak spots. Whether it was knowing if they had a secret lover or bad hip, any information was good information. I on the other hand knew, everything in his house was placed deliberately as a rouse. This was a former employee of one the most dangerous organisation that was ever created or so I've heard. This guy was probably even more paranoid than me, and this fact was adding to my irritation.

His vents were clean, but none of them held any files. His paintings and walls had no oily finger prints, which meant no secret hide outs behind them. I checked every crevice in every room and came up with nothing. His appliances had no hidden compartments, nor did his furniture. This guys was good, almost as good as me. Which made me doubt if he was just actually a former agent, or worse... just a regular civilian.

I went back into his bedroom, and racked my brain through previous hiding spots of my former victims. The more houses and offices you go through, the more creative hiding place you uncover. But this guy was truly clean, or at least appeared to be. Even his trash was meticulously organised.

I thought about where I would stash my files if I were desperate enough to actually own a house and attempt at a normal life. I let my feet carry me and walked into the on-suite and opened the doors on the sink vanity. I hesitantly knocked on the dark wooden base and sure enough, it was hollow. I let out a breath of relief, before an unsettling thought crossed my mind. There's only one mentor who came up with this hiding spot. I let out a breath of air, both out of relief that I made progress and despair because I knew that I just stumbled onto a more complicated situation than I had previously thought.

I started transferring his miscellaneous items behind me so I could have full access to the fake base board. I whipped out my handy scanner and checked to see if there were any security precautions I had to take. I really hoped there were no more digital locks, I only had one and that was outside still attached to the garage lock pad. I really, really, didn't want to go back down there and grab it and try to find another way to sneak back in.

Once the scanner beeped and flashed green, I knew it was clean and got to work. Pulling out my tools again, I pried open the board and with a little creak it sprung open. And voila, there was a lock box situated right underneath. I took out my lock picking tools and fiddled around until I heard the beautiful clicking sound which meant it unlocked. I checked my watch again, 11:47 PM flashed back at me. Good, I'm still on schedule.

I flipped through the papers stacked neatly in unmarked folders. I took pictures of all the papers, making mental notes of which ones could lead to a possible connection on the case I was working on. Finally, I saw the one name that I had been dreading since the beginning of my decision to go rogue. I saw my name, my "real name" on one of the papers. I knew this was that I was looking for. Before I could read through it and take pictures, I heard a car door close before a piercing beep, signalling someone locked it.

Oh shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I grabbed the files and shoved them into my bag. This wasn't the plan, I wasn't supposed to steal anything but now I had no choice but to adapt to the horribly screwed up plan I had going on. I closed the box shoving it back where I found it and closed the base board before putting everything back to where it belonged. I stuffed my tools back into my bag, screw organising it. I had approximately six minutes before he noticed something was off and came up to investigate. That's usually how long it takes people to notice anyway.

I checked my watch again, and saw it was still before midnight, which meant whatever plans he had was abruptly changed. Usually in cases like this, I would sneak down when he was occupied and slip through whichever door was near and hop on my whichever ride I came in with and be on my way. It was a simple, one-two-three step plan. However if they did notice you, all I had to do was shoot them in a non-lethal area or give them a swift kick to the head right by the base of the skull and that should knock them out cold.

Unless the object of the mission was to actually kill the victim, then that would be an entirely different story. But seeing as this mission of mine was unsanctioned, I didn't have the clearance to kill him and would have to find a way to stage his murder, which would mean more complications. I decided sneaking out was best course of action I should be taking.

I could hear loud voices downstairs, indicating he wasn't alone. Shit. This wasn't good one bit for me, I pulled up my mask over the rest of my face so only my eyes were visible. I probably now resembled a bad imitation of a ninja. I tiptoed out of the on-suite and lined myself against the wall while checking for possible good sized windows to crawl out of. Clearly, I was moving on to plan B.

All of a sudden, the voices stopped and it was quiet again. Oh fuck. They definitely figured something was off, but this was way too quick. I ran out of the room and made my way over to one of the guest rooms I had previously checked and knew had windows facing the side of the house. I barely made it to the middle of the room before a large hand shot out and grasped my arm and threw me against the wall. As my back hit the crashed against the wall, I looked up in shock at the perpetrator.

I didn't even hear footsteps, and yet this incredibly large man had managed to run up the stairs with immense speed and caught up to me. Wasting no time, I got up and laid a hard spinning heel kick on him right on his chest. Surprisingly it only pushed him down, normally it would have been enough to have my victims slide across the room. He looked up in shock as if my moving him was a miracle.

I whipped out my gun, screwed on the silencer and then took off the safety, while backing myself towards the windows. The light from the dim street lights outside was bright enough for me to get a good look at the guy. He was dressed in only denim cut off shorts and was medium built and tall. He got up and I finally made eye contact with him, and pointed the gun right at his face.

It was a shame how handsome he was, but I knew if he tried to stop me, I wouldn't think twice before shooting a bullet between his beautiful chocolate brown eyes. I internally cursed myself for even caring how he looked and used my peripherals to guide me towards unlocking the windows. By this time, the house owner also known as my original target finally appeared at the entrance of the room with his girlfriend. He flipped on the lights and gasped at the scene in front of him. My gun was still aimed at the half naked guy in front of me, but I spared a hard glare at both the new comers to silently let them know I don't have a problem with shooting them as well if worse comes to worse. Well I at least hoped my eyes were able to convey that message. I trailed my gaze back to my original half-naked foe, only to see his eyes were wide and his supple lips were agape.

Supple lips?! Are you kidding me?

Now I was absolutely disgusted at myself, I shouldn't be ogling at my potential future victim. Even if he was the embodiment of the phrase 'Tall, dark and handsome.' I slid my gaze back at the house owner and his girlfriend, to my surprise they switched positions. She was now situated in front of him, arms laid out across his mid-drift in a protective manner.

What?

Shouldn't he be protecting her instead? Wasn't he the former agent? Whom, I presumed was mentored by the same devil I was? Not only that, was I that distracted that I didn't even notice them shuffling about?

I focused on the scene in front of me again. For some reason, the house owners girlfriend was more shocked at the half-naked mans reaction than actually taking notice of me. Something was definitely off with these folks, but I wasn't planning on sticking around to find out what. While they were all engrossed on the staring match, I took advantage of the time to silently push the now unlocked window open and stepped up on the window sill. I quickly glanced down at the environment I'd be jumping onto. I was correct, it was the side of the house. I saw the half-naked man take a step forward and reach out for me. Without hesitation I pulled the trigger and shot his arm while jumping out the window and ran towards the woods at the side of the house. My trusty ride was parked exactly where I left it.

Putting the safety back on my gun and securing it under my belt, I turned on the ignition. As I was slipping off the shoe protectors, I heard the girlfriend cry out and loudly fret over the newly injured man. At least that's what I thought was going on judging by the frantic yelling. Without wasting anymore time I ripped out of the neighbourhood as fast as I could. I knew the neighbours would wake to my loud roaring motorcycle, but I pushed through it till I was safely on the main highway. By the time any cops were called, and would start to investigate I'd be happily on my way to Seattle before they could catch up.

I checked my watch again as I entered the highway exiting the residential streets of Forks, it was only 12:03 AM…all that happened a lot faster than it felt. I could understand my fast movements, but theirs? That was something I didn't count on.

Following the exit signs to Seattle, I left the highway and parked in a secluded parking lot. Keeping an eye out for any public cameras, I opened my bag and pulled out another licence plate and switched them. I hopped back on the motorcycle and started driving into the city in search of an unpopular gas station. To my luck, I found one just three blocks from the main city and walked into the public restroom situated at the back of the gas station. Shrugging my bag off my back, I rummaged through the objects until I found my spare clothes. I then began to change my clothes and threw the ones I was wearing and my gloves in the trash. I used the paper towels to open the door. If I was paranoid about wearing the same clothes I committed a crime in while in a different city, it was also probably a good idea to not leave any finger prints either.

I walked out and threw the crumpled paper towels in the trash and walked towards the city again, ditching my bike. It wasn't technically mine, but for the last couple of weeks I did grow a faint attachment for it. Hopefully the real owner gets reunited with it. Luck struck me for the second time this night and I finally came across a low key motel, and settled in. It was very dingy and definitely not a four star establishment, I doubted if it even passed a two and a half. I looked at my watch and noted it was just past four in the morning.

Today was risky, very risky, but hopefully worth it once I looked over the files I stole. As I was falling asleep, I felt an emotion I haven't felt in a long time.

Remorse.

I actually felt remorse for shooting the half-naked man before I let my body succumb to sleep.

My first story, so please R&R.. pls.