A/N – okay, so in the few hours between putting this up, and me going to bed, I've had some reviews. Firstly, thanks for reading, second thanks for the feedback – I needed a few opinions, so taa!
MonseFoster1 – yes, giving it more thought, Pete completely fits the Morgan-esque silly excitable best friend. (But I wouldn't want him so 'sidelined' in the first part of the story – so I would change a few things.)
Likewise, Lux – I can see exactly what you mean – Pete doesn't fit Casey at all – the reason I went with it is because I'd like to see development from Pete as a Casey character (possibly dealing with alcoholism, still not over his father's death, and disliking Myka at first) into the awesome guy we know. Secondly – don't worry, if this goes ahead then Myka will not be a dorky, helpless Chuck – she'll be as badass and capable as always.
10/04 –Final time, I hope, that I'll be editing this. Pete is the new Morgan, Artie is the new Casey. Does that work? I'm hoping to flesh out Pete's backstory though – I want his character to go somewhere…
As always, reviews are treasured. Chapter 2 coming soon.
Did she know she was doing it? That thing with her jaw. Probably not. The woman she was watching just looked bored, almost painfully so, as she twirled the phone cord around her index finger. Helena doubted that she was purposefully clenching her jaw in such an exquisite manner such as to distract her unseen observer.
I wish she'd stop. Helena sighed. It was hard to analyse her behaviour, assess the threat, when said threat had a habit of making her mind wander to more pleasant places.
Stop it Helena. You've got a job to do and a mark to evaluate.
Her mark was Myka Bering, fresh out of university and working at Bering & Sons bookstore over the summer whilst applying for various jobs and internships. She was smart, incredibly so, according to the file. An eidetic memory. Competent in a multitude of languages, including Latin, much to Helena's delight. Regional fencing champion, bookworm, and history major. And the agency had reason to believe that this was the person who had been sent, and had consequently downloaded all of the government's secrets, inadvertently or not.
With such an interesting skill set, it wasn't hard to see why the CIA had wanted this situation contained. They did not know the threat that Miss Bering presented. They did not know her allegiances, if she had any. She was a wildcard that Helena had been sent to deal with, quickly and with as little disruption as possible. But nobody had warned her of the curly hair, or small wry smile the woman possessed that were causing a slight but noticeable flutter in Helena's nerves, and not for the usual life-threatening dangerous reasons.
Helena was jolted out of her train of thought by the sound of her phone ringing.
"Yes," she said, holding the phone to her ear, still watching her target.
"Update," came the voice at the other end.
"No change,"
"I need you to make a move." Although the tone was neutral, Helena had no doubt that this was an order. "Wells? Do you copy? I need confirmation that this is the asset we are looking for, and I needed it yesterday."
"Sir, are you sure about this? She appears, well for lack of a better word, harmless." Harmless, among other intriguing things. Helena thought to herself.
There was a pause, then. "I've had the trace rechecked, this is where the evidence leads. You have your orders, I need you to access Miss Bering's hard drive, retrieve the data and wipe the laptop. If you encounter trouble, then deal with her silently. We cannot afford to have this information in the wrong hands."
"But sir,"
"No excuses, Wells. I do not care how harmless Miss Bering appears, we have reason to believe she possesses the most sensitive information the government holds, and I need this dealt with." Helena heard a light sigh. "I know you are personally invested in this case, but I assure you this is the best way. The NSA will handle this if you do not, I hear Agent Nielsen is in the mix, and you know he will have far less regard for this girl's life than you do. I trust you understand, Agent Wells, you really are Miss Bering's best, and safest option."
Helena took a deep breath. She could suddenly taste blood in her mouth. She pulled her hand into a tight fist and counted to three.
"Wells?"
"I understand, give me 24 hours." Helena replied, keeping her voice steady.
"No more," came the answer, "I cannot protect either of you if Nielsen gets there first."
"Copy that," Helena said, shutting off the call. She turned her attention back to the bookstore. Myka Bering had turned around and was scribbling notes down onto a clipboard, phone propped between her right shoulder and ear.
"Right then," Helena muttered to herself. She leant over and checked herself in the mirror, dragging a pale hand through her dark hair. She frowned at her reflection.
Simple. She thought. This is simple job. In and out, work your charms. Then you can put this whole thing behind you.
Taking one last glance at Myka's file on the seat next to her, she looked at the picture paper clipped to the top. Large, innocent green eyes stared back at her. Innocent. Huffing in annoyance at her own mind, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her head, composed herself and climbed out of her car.
It'll be a piece of cake. She thought, turning towards the store.