Aislynn sat in a thriving green meadow, overlooking endless fields of flowers. They surrounded her body; vast colors sprawled out in every direction covering the hills for miles upon miles, creating a symphony of reds, yellows, oranges, purples, pinks, and blues. Spots of white daisies littered across the fields, intercepting the groups of flowers to make the scenery flow elegantly like a famous portrait by Claude Monet. Not a single patch of grass was visible in the flourishing meadow from all the flower growth. The blossoms made a shield of shade for the grass, keeping it luscious from the harsh sunlight, and giving life to insects as far as the eye could see. When the wind blew softly, the plants would teeter-totter on their stems in perfect rhythm and with that sight; she felt a large weight lift from her shoulders.
In her lap sat a sketch pad containing her most precious drawings. On the open page was a wondrous duplicate drawing of the blossoms around her. Each petal was shaded according to the position of the sun in the sky, casting dark shadows over the leaves, dimming the rich, vibrant green color of the chlorophyll.
Staring down at the drawing, Aislynn exhaled, letting the air pass slowly between her lips. The picture flowed gracefully across the parchment style paper. Plain white paper was too harsh for this type of drawing, because for a sketch like this, it needed a certain vintage quality. The characteristics of a drawing depended on the tool used to create the sketch, as well as the canvas utilized. Each element of design brought a completely different sense for the picture. Parchment paper generally is used when the artist wishes to render an older aged product, as if the drawing had been completed hundreds of years ago.
Setting a pencil down on the grass beside her leg, she couldn't help but admire her handy work. It only took her a couple hours to finish the drawing, along with perfecting the artwork to its greatest potential. There was never one step to drawing something spectacular like this. First, the outline; Aislynn mapped out where each flower would be on the paper. Second, she created the blossoms with a small amount of detail, making rough shading and designs. Third, she started on the finer detail of each petal and leaf. The more detail there was, the better her drawing could became. With the slightest of ease, what should have taken an entire day to do, Aislynn completed in hours. After many years of doing drawings and paintings in her spare time, her work became effortless and more pleasurable.
Being able to use her artistic skills to their full potential always boosted her self-esteem. With her job, self esteem didn't exist. Feelings hindered the work in each assignment and only ever delayed the inevitable. A couple times a year, Aislynn let feelings take charge over her better judgment, nearly leading her to death. She wasn't the only one to revert to old habits; her co-workers also experienced moments of vulnerability just as often. Dangerous? Yes. Preventable entirely? Impossible.
Using what breathing room available, she used it to release her emotional weakness. When drawing, all her emotions were let out of a jar kept deep inside, because when time ran out, each was placed back inside and sealed up tight.
The sun beat generously against her back, creating a warm skin tingling sensation. There wasn't a cloud in the brilliant blue sky and with a gentle breeze; the summer day couldn't get much better in Aislynn's opinion. Nature seemed to help her loosen up and forget about stress, because only God knew how much anxiety and pressure she was under with work. Not only that, but a new assignment was starting tomorrow, which meant from now on until it was complete, there was absolutely no child's play. No drawing, no sitting outside wasting countless hours watching mother-nature at work, because in her job field, it equalled instant death. She couldn't be caught displaying weakness. It had to be all professional. Fluffy feelings came last; always had and always will.
Despite working in an unsympathetic and strict environment, Aislynn loved this weather, rain never stopped her from being outside regardless, but when it was sunny, her spirits lifted nonetheless. It was calming and serene. In the distance, her eyes spotted a river with water so clear it could be mistaken for crystals. Cheesy as it sounded, it was far from being false. The sun glinted off the water in such a way, the very sight of it brought a sense of peacefulness. There wasn't a doubt in her mind the ripples of life were cold, satisfying any creature taking a well deserved drink. Maybe later, if she had time, she could venture over and let her feet soak.
Closing her sketch book, Aislynn stood up, causing hundreds of Monarch butterflies to stir. They flew through her legs and in between her arms and sides. As each insect floated around her, she noticed the different patterns on their wings. It was amazing how nature worked. The reds and oranges of the Monarchs blocked her gaze as they flew away, but she didn't mind one bit. Beauty should be admired, not ignored. Aislynn couldn't help but smile as she watched; how could she not? No other creature could fathom such splendor like the Monarch butterfly.
Bending over, she grabbed her sketch pad and pencil and as she straightened, her gaze caught the change in scenery. Instead of the clear blue sky, black clouds began to roll over the horizon, casting shadows across the fields, diffusing the once lively colors. Since when did rain clouds move so quickly? It was abnormal for storm clouds do so. Hugging the pad to her chest, Aislynn watched as the fields of flowers became covered with darkness. This was definitely strange; no weather front on earth moved with such wicked intention as this one did.
Below the black storm clouds, five figures appeared to be approaching rapidly. The distance in between them quickly closing up with each second she stood staring.
A breath became caught in her throat and her muscles tightened up as the five figures morphed into men. Her palms began to clam up as fear grew inside her stomach; fear was an emotion Aislynn wasn't use to feeling. With her job, fear equaled death. How could she freeze like this? Going into a battle field, guns blazing didn't frighten her, but when it came to five men walking toward her swiftly, she couldn't handle it.
How strange.
Her pulse quickened while staring down the men as they came to a stop ten yards away. A standoff, similar to old Wild West movies, began; Aislynn clutched the drawing pad closer to her chest. She took in her would-be attackers, taking note of every single detail she could make out. The more she remembered, the better her chances would be to find them again if they decided to flee or turn around. Each looked indentical in appearance, feeding her a small dose of confidence. With each one looking the same, it made the remembering part much easier.
Each man had shadows covering their face, thanks to the bizarre black clouds. From the shoulders down, their big, muscular arms remained at their sides of their bodies. Their chests were well defined from beneath black shirts. It was pretty clear to Aislynn that they took great care of their bodies; gym every day, possibly twice a day, no fast food, multi-grain breads and daily vitamins were probably the daily routine.
Health freaks.
She couldn't stand them.
There had to be a fine line between being healthy and going overboard.
Then again, one couldn't get a body like theirs and not be strict about diet and exercise. Hell, Aislynn did take care of her body, but she wasn't in perfect condition like they were. Sure, improvement was always an option, but when it came down to having time off from work, she spent it drawing for a couple hours before bed, not hiding out at the gym like a nut. Her job required workouts and generally, the team did them together; Getting paid to lift weights and run the track for a paycheck definitely didn't bother her. Plus with co-workers, it made exercising fun.
As the wind picked up, the flowers began to bend down closer to the soft ground, and Aislynn's vibrant red hair started to dance across her face. As if on cue, one man stepped out of line, his hands curling into fists, knuckles going white as snow from pressure. Her stomach became uneasy as the other four men simply faded away, leaving one behind. Even with the others gone, Aislynn still didn't feel safe; the uneasy feeling liquefied into pure terror. Her heart beat faster with each second ticking by and the noise grew so loud, it made her wonder if he could hear it. Displaying any emotion in a situation similar was dangerous. This man, whoever he was, was bad news.
Taking one step back, her green eyes widened as he mimicked her by taking a step forward. Panic inside her chest began to grow. Aislynn had no weapons, no means of self defense other than her own two hands and legs. How could she be so foolish and not bring a knife just in case? It was careless; an unforgivable mistake. Yes, she was talented in martial arts, but would it be enough? A voice in the back of her head spoke the answer:
No.
Standing her ground, she waited for him to make the first move. Instead of taking another step forward, he shocked her and smiled.
This wasn't an ordinary smile, oh no, it held malicious intent. It caused goose bumps to leisurely crawl up her spine.
Get out. Run.
What better judgment she had moments before, disappeared, flying away with the wind. Her skin began to pale as panic spread rapidly through her veins. This was it, she was done for.
The man's smile widened, as if her fear fueled him like gas to a fire, and as it stretched from ear-to-ear. She spotted his teeth peeking out from behind his lips. A low, menacing chuckle erupted from his throat and he finally took another step forward into the light, a predator's last move before making the kill. The sun revealed his identity, a military-style buzz cut, black emotionless eyes, and a long scar running across his cheek, starting from his left ear all the way down to his chin.
He whispered one word just loud enough for her to catch,
"Run."
Aislynn shot up in bed, her body covered with cold sweat, drenching her pajamas. The alarm clock on the bedside table screamed loudly, its piercing noise almost causing her hearing loss from the high pitch. Stretching a hand out, she slapped the button to shut off the buzzer. Groaning loudly as she rubbed her eyes, the beautiful voice of Sumi Jo singing German opera vibrated from the hallway. Rolling out of bed and strolling over to the door, Aislynn unlocked it and made her way to the kitchen.
"Catch!"
Barely managing to snag an apple before it collided with her face; Aislynn gave the woman responsible a death glare. Walking over to the stereo, she turned down the Act II of the opera Die Zauberflöte down a couple notches.
"You know I get groggy in the morning, Eva!" Aislynn growled before taking a bite from the green apple.
Eva smirked and turned her attention back to the pot sitting on the stove. She was the commanding officer in the group; the leader, the one who took the blame if anything went wrong. Eva Norgaard is one of the toughest women Aislynn knew. One could always count on her to pull through when the situation seemed impossible. From years of experience within the Armed Forces, Eva picked up many different skills, forming her into the war machine. On the field, her emotions died, as if they never existed in the first place. She became a fierce warrior; an angel given wings by none other than God. During a mission in Russia, Eva saved Aislynn's life by pulling the trigger when she could not.
That was one memory Aislynn was not proud of. The fact that her commanding officer finished the job for her simply because she'd been too weak by letting her emotions take over, was dishonorable. If Eva hadn't pulled the trigger and killed the target, Aislynn would have been spotted and sniped. Sometimes she wished she could be like Eva. Strong. Dedicated.
Aislynn admired Eva more than anyone could imagine.
"Hey kid," Eva turned to look over her shoulder, "What's on your mind? Or is that just you 'meditating' again while staring into space."
"I've never done meditation before." Aislynn replied, taking another bite into the juicy apple. "Besides, you're the one who meditates, not me."
Eva's lips curled into a smirk. "Oh yeah, that's right. I'm the only smart one who decides to practice it. You know, it wouldn't hurt to try." She turned back to the pot continuing to stir its contents.
Aislynn rolled her eyes and swallowed the chunk of apple after chewing it. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't meditate."
"You didn't deny the fact you stare off into space."
Eva let out a small chuckle as Aislynn whipped around, ready to knock out the newcomer with a half eaten apple in all its glory.
"Mae, you sonofa-"
"Bonjour!"
In unison, three groans melded together. Aislynn, Eva, and Mae looked over as Viollette walked into the kitchen, her long, wavy, blonde hair swirling behind her.
"Vous ne regardez pas si heureux de me voir." Viollette said with a smile, her thick, French accent coming forth.
Mae rolled her eyes. "Just what we needed… another European in the room disturbing the peace."
"As if peace existed in the first place after you stumbled in here," Aislynn murmured before taking another bite out of the apple viciously.
Shooting her an angry glare, Mae turned her attention back to Viollette. "How come you're so happy, Vie? Normally in the morning you the opposite of Mrs. Happy-happy-joy-joy."
Viollette flashed a big, charming smile as she reached into the fridge, pulling out a bottle of her favorite Naked fruit juice. "Oh, you will see why soon enough."
Raising an eyebrow, Eva studied Vie, trying to figure out what kind of trouble she was going to cause. "Vie what did-"
An earsplitting scream echoed from downstairs, causing the four women to turn their heads toward the door to the kitchen. The pitch was so high; it made the sound of a teacher's nails scraping against a chalkboard welcoming.
"Oh shit," Mae cursed, taking a step back, bracing herself for terror to come.
Thunderous, heavy footsteps filled the hallway after the basement door slammed open. The energy within the kitchen grew heavy and the one person causing it stood in the doorway, seething with anger.
The woman pointed to Viollette, death swimming her eyes, she screamed, "You!
Moving her dark brown bangs to the side of her face, she pointed to her forehead where a tiny black, bold swastika was planted. All eyes turned to Viollette as she casually leaned her hip against the granite countertop, sipping her Naked fruit juice contently. Twisting the cap and taking a long swig, she replaced the top and her lips bent into an evil smirk.
"Whatever do you mean, Rikka?" Vie asked, keeping her innocent act up.
Everyone in the kitchen watched as Rikka's blood pressure rose. Aislynn could almost feel the heat from her anger warming up the room like a volcano ready to explode. She glanced over at Eva, who like her, was watching the scene unfold into a risky situation.
Rikka's eyes narrowed, "Miststück, how dare you!"
Viollette let her head fall back, laughing uncontrollably, aggravating and pushing Rikka closer to the edge. When she brought her head back down, Vie held a large proud smile. Her eyes glittered with pompous pleasure, as if so proud of what she'd done, she'd do it again if the situation called for it.
"Now, now, chéri, don't take it so seriously." Viollette said, still holding her smile strong and arrogantly.
Enraged by how lightly Vie was taking the circumstances, Rikka reached her boiling point. Letting out a low growl, she took a step forward, eyes glowing with hatred and revulsion. In a blink of an eye, Vie was laying on her back, Rikka sitting on top of her chest, a butterfly knife pressed against the hallow of Viollette's neck.
"Apologize." Rikka whispered, her voice low and laced with animosity, blue eyes glowing with rage.
Vie's lips arched up, forming a wicked smile. "Chéri, if there is one thing I never do, it would be apologizing. You, of all people, should know this."
"All I want to know," Eva said, her fingers drumming against the wooden spoon, "is how you managed to tattoo a swastika on her forehead. Wouldn't you wake up from that?"
Viollette turned her head to look over at the commander, "She started taking sleeping pills for her-"
Rikka grabbed hold of Vie's and slammed her head into the ground, silencing her quickly. "Schweigen, if I wanted to tell them, I would have done so myself."
The kitchen's mood suddenly somersaulted dramatically. There was no longer the playful attitude in the air. It went cold, the atmosphere unwrapping terror, giving it a new life, a new way to breathe. For the first time, Aislynn saw fear explode in Viollette's eyes. Rikka was never this rough. Either Rikka was truly angry about the tattoo or she didn't want the subject of why she was taking pills to be exploited.
Vie and Rikka were a team from the very beginning, before giving up their lives to the United States Military, each came from either a proud French or German family. Both gave up their native citizenship to train in the elite squad. They were stuck together with super glue. Nothing could break them apart. It was one of the main reasons they were enlisted to the team. As well as they worked together, their skills on the battle field were unparallel combined.
Viollette Rousseau is an unmatchable sniper on the team. Eva describes Vie as having two separate personalities, one for active field duty and the other for inactive duty. Generally, she likes to stay in the active field duty persona for personal reasons, to make her job easier, keeping her mind uncluttered while taking the shot. It was part of being a sniper. Not just anyone could be a sniper. One needed to be specially trained to become a judge, jury, and executioner. She couldn't feel anything for her target. With her keen observation skills, patience, the ability to adapt to all situations, stealth, marksmanship, and discipline created an unstoppable monster. Never having missed a shot, Viollette was a force not to be reckoned with.
Rikka Kaufmann was an undeniable double from the famous video game character Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. While her talent with two Browning Hi-Power pistols was extraordinary, her ability with butterfly knives and swords were simply unsurpassable. By the age of thirteen years old, Rikka mastered the art of fencing and self defense with martial arts training. When she enlisted into German's military, her experience with knives, such as the butterfly and shuriken, grew to a level of expertise within months of practicing. In her spare time, Rikka trains to master the art of Tanto-jitsu. Her knife collection sported a fair amount of legal military standard blades as well as illegal switchblades. On duty, with Viollette at her back, providing cover, Rikka proves time and time again why it's a bad idea to be an enemy. She isn't afraid to become the last person someone will see, a stone cold killer.
Viollette stared into Rikka's eyes, the butterfly knife pressing down harder, about to break the skin and spill blood. Muttering something in French, Aislynn, Eva, and Mae watched as Rikka took a deep breath and stood, looming over Vie. The room leveled out, sparks no longer crackled between Vie and Rikka. Lending a hand to help up her comrade, Rikka flipped the butterfly knife closed.
"Don't become the fool Viollette," Rikka whispered, flashing a deadly glare, putting an end to the dispute.
Vie gave a short nod, in understanding, and finished her juice. Tossing it into the recycling, she turned to stare at Eva's back, her on-duty personality switching on. "So what was that call for at four in the morning, Eva?"
"What call?" Aislynn asked, turning her attention back at her boss.
Eva's shoulders sagged and her hand stopped stirring. She remained motionless, for a long time, before placing a metal lid on the kettle and turning the stove dial to simmer.
Finally, turning around, Eva's eyes softened as she gazed at each individual woman. "Vie, I hate your hearing sometimes."
Looking down at the ground, Vie shut her eyes and raised a hand in the air to point at herself, "Sniper."
Rikka couldn't help but smirk as she leaned against the wall, cleaning underneath her fingernails with a knife. "So what exactly was this phone call about?" She asked, taking a glimpse up without ceasing the nail care.
Shifting her head to look at Vie, Eva waited for her to explain the conversation in detail, word for word.
"Hey! I'm not that much of an ass. I don't listen in on phone conversations that do not concern me. Give me some credit." Viollette glared at her boss, a vein in her neck pulsing angrily.
Eva rolled her eyes and looked at Aislynn, "Our next assignment… it's not going to be easy." She said softly, a small speck of fear flashing briefly in her eyes before disappearing entirely.
Aislynn stared at Eva, not sure what to think, seeing as missions before bad been easy, but for Eva to admit this was not the case… sparked a small flicker of worry inside her. She studied her boss, trying to figure out what could make her worry. What could the mission be? Performing a hit and run? No, that was way too easy. For them, a simple hit and run was a cake walk, seeing as two or three come a month.
"I'm talking about one where you, Aislynn, will be alone with the five most wanted men for six days carrying no weapons."