Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy.
Line of Duty: 01
Hidden deep in the mountains of Montana was St. Vladimir, an underground and secretive organization dedicated to tracking down nefarious criminals at the orders of the Elder, Tatiana Ivashkov, when the FBI and CIA hit a cold trail. When that happened, the Elder passed down order through the chain of command and giving the duty of capturing the criminal to one of thirteen squads. But when on duty, it was imperative to cover your tracks meticulously and get rid of any evidence that could be traced back to you and eventually St. Vladimir. And when the missions were complete, you and your squad were to fade back into the shadows after leaving the criminals to be caught by the police, FBI, or CIA.
To be part of St. Vladimir, you needed to be picked before the age of three and sent to the Academy, a small, secret institution where Trainers trained you mentally and physically to be working in the field with your future squad members. When picked, all identification papers were erased. You didn't exist anymore. You only existed in the dark until the day of your death.
The Trainers trained you in basic academics, and when you became a first-year middle school student they spent a year focusing on the three main groups of St. Vladimir: Field Man, Tech, and Medical. When you showed excellence in one group over the other two, they trained you for six years until you graduated and were placed into a squad by Captain Alberta Petrov.
A squad consisted of one of each group, four people at most if two from the same group was necessary. Each squad was run by a Team Leader, someone who had extreme leadership abilities and the ability to plan a thoroughly detailed operation with a low fail-ratio. The Team Leader could be anyone from the three groups, and he or she answered to Captain Petrov, Commander Kirova, and the Elder.
If on a mission you were to be caught or in a situation where you were to be left behind, you were to erase yourself.
Dimitri Belikov sat behind a desk with his feet propped up and a book in his hand, oblivious to the flirtatious looks Christian Ozera and Lissa Dragomir tossed at each other. It was one thing to be involved in their movements and roles in an operation. It was another to stay out of their personal lives and romance. And because they had shut down what had seemed like a clichéd underground illegal drug business five days ago, they had nothing else to do. But there was another reason for the silence at headquarters in St. Vladimir.
Mason Ashford had died in the line of duty three days ago.
It was unclear how he had died exactly, but from Adrian Ivashkov, Team Leader for Squad Two, Dimitri had heard that during an abort on the mission he had run into the line of fire and went down immediately.
He frowned, not focusing on the words on the page anymore. Personally, he hadn't known Ashford. But the word was that he had been a likeable guy for a Field Man. There hadn't been a mean bone in his body, but he had been focused on every mission. That little factor gave him some respect from the other members of St. Vladimir.
The door to Squad Three's conference room opened, and when Alberta Petrov, Captain of every Team Leader in St. Vladimir, stepped in, the three stood on their feet.
She nodded once at the group of three. "It's soon, but I'm giving you another assignment," she announced, handing Dimitri a manila folder with the words Top Secret stamped in red on the cover.
If there was anything Squad Three was known for, it was closing Top Secret missions in a month at most. With Dimitri as Team Leader, Christian as Tech, and Lissa as Medical, there was no question to their skill as all three had excelled in their field during their training years.
Dimitri obligingly opened the folder and saw the picture of the infamous Viktor Dashkov, a serial killer who had once preyed on young women and ripped out their hearts with a simple scalpel. Raising a brow, he lifted his gaze back to Alberta's.
"I thought they sentenced him to death row," he noted, noticing Lissa tensing up when she knew who he was talking about.
Alberta frustratingly ran a hand through her short hair. "They did. Make no mistake about that," she said firmly, then dropped her hand. "He escaped from prison shortly before they were about to make the transfer from state prison to federal."
Christian's eyes hardened. "How?"
"Remember, Ozera, that Dashkov was skilled in the medical field. He had snuck in a syringe with a lethal dosage of morphine. Once he took the guard out, he took his clothes and walked right out like he was the fucking King of England," the Captain stated bitterly, not bothering to hide her irritation at state-issued guards. To her, they were nothing but mannequins dressed to look intimidating and stood around to make their pay.
Dimitri nodded once. "We'll get him and make sure he makes it to the termination table," he said formally, then turned to Lissa. "He's your uncle, Dragomir. If you're going to let personal feelings get in the way of this mission, you're more than welcome to opt for a substitute."
She shook her head, her green eyes filled with fury. "Trust me, TL. I have no uncle, not anymore," she said sternly.
What Dimitri saw in her eyes satisfied him, and he nodded once in her direction before turning back to Alberta. "We're prepared to start."
Alberta nodded once. "Before you do, I'm assigning you a Field Man. You're going to need one, Belikov, especially for this mission," she said. She turned her head to the door. "Come in."
A woman of no more than twenty years-old stepped in, her long ponytail flowing behind her while her chocolate-brown eyes spared no emotion. When she stood beside Alberta, her eyes scanned each face. But when they landed on Dimitri's, she felt the jolt of electricity in her gut. And for her, that was a red flag.
Dimitri stared back, assessing her appearance. He didn't like the small simmer stirring his guts, but it was low enough that he could push it aside and ignore it. He had a mission to accomplish, and he'd be damned if he let a woman who looked like a goddess distract him.
Alberta continued on. "This is Rosemarie Hathaway. She was previously on Squad Two with Ivashkov, but I had pulled her out and transferred her here as she would be an asset. Squad Two had requested a few weeks leave, but Hathaway was available and looking for work. She graduated from the Academy in the top two percentile in field work and hand-to-hand combat, so you all won't have to play catch-up," she informed them and stepped back to look at the now-four-members squad.
Rose turned around and met Alberta's gaze. "Permission to request for another transfer, Captain," she said monotonously.
The Captain raised her brows in surprise. "Something wrong, Hathaway?"
"Hey, you think you're too good for us or something?" Christian piped up, eyes boring into the back of her head.
Lissa put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't start," she whispered.
Dimitri was admiring her guts. From his years working with Alberta, no one had dared question her decisions. And yet here was Rosemarie, looking straight into the Captain's eyes and disagreeing with her choice.
Ignoring the black-haired Tech, Rose answered, "My intuitions are telling me that this is a bad idea. And they're rarely wrong."
Now Alberta was slightly puzzled, but masked it over with profession. "Permission denied. Whatever your intuitions say, Hathaway, you're going to aid Belikov's squad on this particular mission. Once this is done and over with, you can request for a transfer. Until then, you are a member of Squad Three," she said firmly, and with a nod she left.
There was a moment of silence in the room as Rose kept her back to the other three.
In an attempt to ease up the atmosphere, Lissa smiled and went over to stand in front of the new woman. "Hi, Miss Hathaway! I'm Lissa Dragomir, the squad's Medical. The dumbass who was being rude to you is Christian Ozera, our Tech, and the other one is Dimitri Belikov, the Team Leader," she introduced, holding a hand out.
Rose stared at the pale, slender hand for a few seconds before taking it and shook it once before pulling her hand back to her side. "Rosemarie Hathaway, new Field Man. But call me Rose," she said tersely.
"We've never had a Field Man before, so it's going to be interesting having you around, Rose," the blonde woman said encouragingly.
Nodding once, Rose turned around the face the two men. "If I offended any of you, I want to say that wasn't my intention. I'm glad to offer my services to Squad Three."
Something in Dimitri's brain clicked. He had read about Rose in an online report about the graduates from the Academy two years ago. From what the instructors had written, she had been a constant troublemaker but committed to the required training to become a Field Man.
"The Captain said you'd be an asset to our squad," Christian said, looking speculative. "What did she mean?"
Rose's eyes met his blue ones. "I took part in tracking down Dashkov's movements the first time he was caught and arrested," she answered. "I was part of Ivashkov's squad during the time, but TL Alto requested our squad to aid his."
The Tech snorted. "The bastard must've been pretty desperate to ask anyone for help."
"So, since you know his previous movements, the Captain put you with us to help us track him down again," Lissa concluded, earning a nod.
"That'd be my guess," Rose said and turned her head to look at Dimitri. "I'd like to work with you and your squad by giving you what I know from Dashkov's initial capture and putting away the sick bastard for good, TL Belikov."
The Team Leader nodded. "We'd appreciate it, Hathaway," he said sincerely and looked at the clock on the wall behind her. "All of you are dismissed for the day. I'll take the file and send it to your private mail via secured link. I want you to view the notes and come in with several ways we can approach this mission."
The three stood to attention and saluted. "Sir," they said in sync.
Later that night, Dimitri sat in front of his computer looking at the files the Academy had on Rosemarie Hathaway. If he was going to have a new member in his squad, it's only safe to know her background. Or so he told himself.
Suspended for breaking a classmate's arm over personal differences, he read, his lips twitching up into a smile. The woman knew how to talk with her fists.
When he pulled up her files from her combat trainers, he was impressed. Student Hathaway had had a rocky start, but from sophomore year in high school she had never lost a fight.
Student Hathaway had been engaged in practice combat with Trainer Celeste and broke said Trainer's nose. Now he had to laugh. He had a feeling that if he and Rose had been in the same graduating year, they'd have been best friends with at least one thing in common: breaking Celeste's facial structures. After all, Celeste was known to be very picky more on stance than defense maneuvers. Gotta look perfect, she had once said in a jumpsuit that had clung a bit too much to pass school dress code. Smirking, he recalled the feeling of temporary satisfaction when his fist had 'accidentally' swung too high and broke Celeste's jaw. He hadn't seen her since then.
His ears perked up and turned his attention to his apartment door when he heard the sound of boxes stacking on top of each other. Guess someone's finally decided to live in this shithole of an apartment complex, he thought as he turned back to his monitor.
"Thanks, Sydney. I owe you one."
On his feet, Dimitri creaked open the front door slightly and saw Rose moving large boxes into the apartment room next to his. "Hathaway?"
She jumped slightly, dropping the last box an inch from the ground. She spun around and found her surprise mirrored on his face. "TL?"
For a moment, the two stared at each other in complete and utter shock.
Oh, fuck me, they both thought.
Breaking the awkward moment, Dimitri cleared his throat. "I guess I should say welcome to the neighborhood," he said.
"Ah, yeah. Thanks. I'm gonna go unpack now, so…" she trailed off, turning back just as quick and picked up the last box she had dropped.
His hand shot out and turned her face towards him. Even in the flickering, pathetic excuse for a light the complex owners had installed, he could see her left cheek red and swollen. "What happened, Hathaway?"
She pulled her head away and shrugged. "Nothing much. Nothing I didn't deserve," she answered and opened her door, dropping the box in the small entranceway and coming back out rubbing the back of her neck. "Ashford and I lived together, so when I was moving out earlier his mom came to gather his things. She said some things, and things led to action," she explained and shrugged again. "Understandable for a grieving mom, so I let it slide."
Dimitri didn't know why that small fact made him uncomfortable, but like earlier he was able to ignore it. Shifting thoughts, he could empathize with her: he had lost a close friend in the line of duty as well. They had been like brothers, not lovers, but the strength of the bond was similar in both situations.
"If she wasn't grieving, you would have broken her nose as well," he commented as an attempt to lighten her mood, biting back a smile when she flinched. Ah, she's human, he thought.
"You read that, huh?"
He chuckled once. "As your TL, I disapprove. But we're not on duty. You have nice aim, Hathaway."
He could see the smug look in her eyes. "I've read most of the reports on you from the Trainers at the Academy. What happened to the troublemaking Rosemarie Hathaway that always got in trouble for talking with her fists?" he asked humorously.
A ghost of a smile flittered on her face. "She got hit by something called reality," she answered before going in her apartment and shutting the door behind her.