From Russia, with Love

Chapter One: A Hard Man to Kill

"Kento-san, it's getting late, I should leave now."

The short brunette, currently seated on the couch said, disturbing the silence. The much taller brown haired male stopped his furiously fast typing, and looked at the little date display on his desk top.

July 31st, 5:58pm

"It is late. You should leave now."

Kent replied, oblivious to what she had just previously said. He then looked back down and began typing again. She looked around the meticulously clean, but unbelievably common and boring office, unsure of how to properly leave in a not awkward fashion. After several more moments, she gave up trying to figure out the impossible; she made a little sound of frustration and left the room without another word.

Kent released a sigh of relief. Pulling up a world clock on the futuristic software installed in his glasses, he checked the time in Moscow. 12:58pm. It seemed like a reasonable time to call, he just hoped that no one was out to lunch.

Pulling out his specially encrypted, tap-free phone, he dialed the untraceable number.

A few fuzzy rings later, someone picked up.

"Is the pizza parlor calling?" a male voice asked in Russian.

"Yes it is, sorry; it seems we have run out of olives." Kent replied back in the same language, answering the secret code.

"Agent Kent! It's so nice for you to call!"

"Petrikov, I call every day."

"I know, it's just a figure of speec- you know what, never mind. So, anything new to report today?" His superior, hundreds of miles away in an underground base, asked.

"It seems that there has been a 0.93% increase of gamma concentration since we have last spoke. Upon further research I have now determined that they are much more prevalent in certain areas of the city."

"0.93%? Wow, that's a lot." Petrikov sounded worried.

"Yes it is. I know this may sound strange, but through recent data I have traced the same type of gamma wave we are tracking to a certain individual. Although she is definitely not the cause of the spikes because her levels are much lower than what is found in the city, I still think it seems a little suspicious.

"Wait, did you say a her, like a female?" Petrikov asked.

"Yes, her. My girlfriend."

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. SINCE WHEN? AND WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD ME?" Petrikov practically screamed into the phone, all professional composure lost.

"I simply did not think it was relevant until now. Having a girlfriend also helps me blend in better. Apparently, it is quite common for people my age to be pursuing romantic relationships. "

A document sent from Petrikov appeared on the right lens of Kent's glasses interface. Using the nerve-sensing technology imbedded in the spectacles, he opened the message with so much as a single thought. The profile that appeared before him was the familiar face. No one could know how Petrikov knew immediately who she was; he was just simply good at his job. He took a moment to admire her passport photo. He then closed the file, feeling uncomfortable reading her life's story at this particular moment. It felt like invading her privacy.

"Anyway," Petrikov continued on after clearing his throat, quickly getting over his shock and disbelief, "Tell me more about the waves emitting from her."

"Yes, it seems that she is emitting a very low amount of radiation. The program in my glasses indicates that levels will often spike when sh-"

Kent paused when the door opened.

A head with round, turquoise doe eyes popped through the door.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I left my bag on the couch."

Kent's eyes travelled to the bag, narrowing in the process. He silently cursed his ignorance. Also, why hadn't he locked the door? He must have been getting rusty…..

"Is that her?" Petrikov's heavily accented Japanese crackled from the phone.

"Who's that you're talking to?" she inquired inquisitively.

"Oh, hello! Nice to meet you! I'm Kent's cousin, from Russia."

"Kento-san, you never told me you had relatives in Russia! Privyet, mister."

Kent froze. She knew Russian. She had listened in on the conversation. He slowly began reaching for his compartment of stashed weapons.

"Did I butcher it?" she asked with a worried expression, completely unaware that she had just saved herself from certain execution.

Kent breathed out a sigh of relief while easing back his hand back to his side. She clearly didn't know much past hello in Russian. Another sigh of relief could be heard on the other side of the phone.

"Don't worry miss, you sound like a true born Russian." Petrikov replied, like a true gentleman.

She smiled softly, her small face lightening up. She then went to go pick up her bag from where she was sitting before.

"I have work tomorrow, so I can't come over." She told Kent.

He curtly nodded and she swiftly left the room, knowing that if she waited for a parting expression, she would be left waiting until tomorrow morning. He never was one for sentimentality. He couldn't be one for sentimentality. The door let out a soft click behind her. Kent stood up and quickly strode over to the door to lock it.

After making sure three times that the door was actually locked now, he settled back down in his chair.

"How did a sweet, nice, normal girl like her, end up with you?" Petrikov asked after Kent had finished locking the door. He was truly curious now.

A little, genuine grin of slight fondness crept onto Kent's face.

"To be honest, I have no idea."