10 years ago

'Agent Knight! Agent London!'

Frank and Stella had just been about to leave the briefing room, when the sharp voice of Chief Agent White caused them to stop dead in their tracks and spin around.

White was a serious man by nature, hardened by all his years in MI9 leadership. His hair was almost completely grey and his eyes were creased with decades worth of sleepless nights. Yet there was no mistaking the steel in his voice, especially now, at a time when the war against KORPS was coming to a climax.

White's two most senior agents were young, but the stress of the war was taking its toll of them too. Frank seemed to be forever wearing a frown to go with his tired expression. Stella, who had been a ray of sunshine months before, was now a very serious, focused young woman who tried to maintain some sort of control on things by throwing herself into the work, barely resting and hiding her exhaustion behind a few carefully placed strokes of eyeliner. It was a pity, White thought, for these were two of the most promising agents that MI9 had seen in years. In fact, the only time he'd seen them smile lately was in those rare moments when they sat in each other's company, working hard or perhaps catching a quick meal. When it was just the two of them, when they thought they weren't being watched - those were the only times they ever smiled.

'Agent Knight,' White addressed Stella, who stood stiff at attention. 'I would like you to remain at headquarters and coordinate the assault on KORPS HQ remotely.'

Stella's eyes widened. Once, she would have questioned the order, when she was inquisitive, when she had the energy to be curious. Now, she was all about fulfilling her duty with efficiency. 'Yes, sir.'

White then turned to Frank, who had a mixture of shock and relief on his face. 'Agent London, I would like you to lead the assault, if you are willing.'

'Absolutely, sir.'

'Very good. Dismissed.' White slipped past the two of them, and left the briefing room.

Frank and Stella was silent as they walked out of the room and downstairs towards their office. The only sounds were the tread of their footsteps on the sleek vinyl floors and the occasional 'ding' of their swipe cards as they passed access-restricted doors. Eventually, the squeak of their shows against vinyl ceased as they stepped onto the carpet of the office.

'I'm glad.' Frank finally spoke. 'You'll be perfect in the command role, and out of harm's way.' The inner edges of Frank's eyebrows seemed to lift a little, and the relief on his face was all too apparent now.

Stella didn't seem to be half as pleased. There was an angry undertone to her voice when she spoke, 'I should be leading the assault. Or at least on the team. I'm good in the field.'

'You're needed more at headquarters,' Frank replied, and from the sagging of Stella's shoulders, it was clear that she realised this too. Nevertheless, she wasn't thrilled with the idea of being shut away several miles from the action while her friends and colleagues risked their lives on such a dangerous mission.

Frank reached forward and gently placed a hand on Stella's elbow. He looked straight into her eyes, and all the steel and anger seemed to flow out of them as if purged by what she saw in Frank's eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. 'Promise me you'll be okay.'

'You know I can't,' Frank said with a sigh. He touched her cheek, then moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 'But I promise I'll try.'

In a most uncharacteristic move, Stella suddenly took a half-step forward and wrapped her arms around Frank's torso. Frank responded in kind and held her to him, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the warm of her, just in case it would be one of the last times her ever did.