I walked through the doors of The Organization, and as I always did, I immediately went into the assignments wing. The walls were brown and pale blue. The doors were solid oak and were strong enough to withstand a small explosion without disturbance. We learned that one when a young trainee on her first ever job took the wrong file. It didn't matter that she didn't do it on purpose and put it back without reading it. It was a huge no no.
At first the girl believed she had not been caught. It was the day my training group went in the get our first assignments. That's when she found out that they had known the whole time. The Baroness was taking us to our door then the girl returned from her assignment.
"Ah look. A returnee! Come here" said the Baroness. The girl, of course, followed orders. You always listen to the Baronesses. Their word was truly law here and no one in their right mind would defy them or lie to them.
"This returnee did very well on her latest job. We are going to have to congratulate her aren't we?" the Baroness said. No one moved a muscle. No one ever got complimented. We all knew something was off.
"Well go on. Clap!" she ordered. We clapped. It was lifeless pity applause. Everyone in that room felt the tension. I could have torn it with my hands. I could feel it winding around me and the other girls.
"But you see, she made one little mistake," came the cold voice Baronesses usually used.
And then the explosion happened. When the smoke cleared the girl was against one of the doors. There was a huge pool of blood behind her, but she was alive and breathing. I couldn't see the wound.
"She took the wrong file on accident and replaced it hoping we wouldn't notice. We take our assignments very seriously. Information is extremely sensitive. I wanted to use her as an example for you young ladies," the temperature in the room dropped with every word that drifted from the Baroness' lips.
A wall on the left side of the door collapsed. Yet the door stood on.
The girl was trembling and barely holding her body up. At the time I wondered at why she did not lay down, but now I know it is because laying down shows weakness and lack of grace. You did not do anything in the place unless it was done with grace. You ate with grace, walked with grace. We lived and breathed graceful lives. Her breathing had no grace to it.
Would the Baroness punish her further? I never found out. After that day no one ever saw her again. Rumor said she wound up as one of the final tests. Another one said she was locked up in some secret basement. But no one found out for real what happened to her after the medics carried her out of the hall.
"Now, go clean yourselves up. A woman always looks clean and proper. We are never untidy. Yes?" her voice was light and motherly again. As if she hadn't just almost killed a girl.
"Yes, ma'am," we responded simultaneously.
For a long time we had a lot of questions. We had no idea how the explosive had hit her or where it had come from. We were very in the dark, and extremely terrified of facing the same wrath.
But one of the questions we did eventually get answered was how the Baroness had caused the minor explosion. Tiny explosive darts shot from a wrist rocket. Go figure no one saw it. That's how I know the Baroness' are loaded with weapons no one can see, which is why no one has ever stood up to one, let alone made a move on one.
One of the lessons we were taught from the very beginning was you never made a mistake or faltered. If you plan to do something you do it one hundred percent and perfectly or you didn't do it at all.
So why had I faltered?
How had I made the mistake of letting him find me and track me? Where had I gone wrong? What happened inside my mind that LET me mess up that bad?
I opened the giant oak door and entered silently.
"Welcome," sounded the Baroness' voice. It was light and warm, which meant she either knew everything (98% likely) or she hadn't heard yet (2% likely).
"It is done ma'am," I reply dryly.
"I know. Clever to use a direct injection of polyforamine," she applauds softly on the edge of her desk. She knew everything and I was in deep trouble. If I walked away from this with only bruises, I would be lucky. My Baroness always knew. Others may be light and be "unaware" or might really not know. Not mine. She always knew. Whether she was told or not didn't matter. She just knew.
"Thank you ma'am," remain. Emotionless, we never do anything with emotion. So why did I speak and act with anger when it came to him?
"But I hear there was a complication," her voice was still light as air.
"Yes ma'am," I was so dead. The fact that she was asking me what happened instead of just delivering the punishment meant what I had done was worthy of deletion. I almost shivered.
Almost.
"Explain to me where you… let this complication happen," her voice was as soft and safe as a warm summer's day. It was as fake as the flowers in the dance hall, yet still more deadly. Nothing was as deadly as a Baroness.
"I covered my tail and cleaned the trail as best as one could with such a public and well known target ma'am He was clearly professional," I reported.
Wrong answer blared loud and clear in my ears as I felt the bamboo stick connect with my face. I immediately felt the welt swell and begin to bruise. I felt the sting clear down into my neck. I was being retaught. This wasn't even my punishment. But compared to what I faced in this room. Punishment would be light.
"No, you clearly did not cover as well as you should have. Else he would not have found you," she replied softly. It sounded as though she were a grandmother chastising a child for leaving the peanut butter out after making lunch.
"Yes ma'am," I repeated as emotionlessly as I could.
"You also forgot to explain to me why you let him distract you from the target," her voice had gained a slight edge.
"Always take out any other operatives with their eyes on the target ma'am," my words were met with another strike from the stick. This time it was to my left side and left a split in the skin. It was small enough it would not scar. The Baronesses never left scars on their girls. Else it would cost money to get us repaired. They would not waste a dime on us unless it made us a better killer. Weapons? Yes. Training? Yes. Surgery? None other than one.
"He was clearly not after the target, do not play the fool. You were trained better than that. You are not lying to me, are you?" she seemed to be glaring into my soul as she walked around the desk to my side. Her voice was now a razor in sound form. If I slipped up now she would cut me down like a failed project. I would be even less than the expendable pawn that I am now and even easier to be rid of.
"No ma'am," I had to remain cold. If I even faltered in the least bit I would be dead in an instant.
"Then it seems you have made a miscalculation. What do you think should be your punishment?" her voice was darker than the night sky and deadly as lightning. Only a rare few survived this stage.
"Deletion, ma'am,"
"Oh but that would be all too easy for you, yes?" her voice had reached the eye of the storm moment. It was a very deadly calm.
"Yes ma'am," I kept telling myself to keep it short. If I kept it short my punishment would be easier. Or at least I hoped it would. I had never made such a mistake as this before. And I had never heard of anyone doing something this foolish so I had no idea how this would end.
"What do you say to three days on the roof?" the grandmotherly affection had lifted into her voice again.
"Perfect as always ma'am,"
"Good, your punishment will begin tomorrow at oh one hundred. You know how hard I have strived to hone you as the perfect weapon. How could I have failed?" she asks. It was on to the retraining process. Conditioning, Remembering, and Reeducating. These were the three words that every single member who had ever made a mistake (so every girl in the whole building at some point or another) knew by heart. This sentence was conditioning, the art of making me feel like the failure and the one at fault, which I was.
"It is I who have failed you ma'am," I repeated the line from heart.
"Remind me, what is our saying here? Could you repeat it for me?" this was Remembering.
"Cleanliness and timeliness are the keys to successfulness ma'am." Say it with pride. Always say the chant with pride. It is the way of life here.
"Explain to me how you missed successfulness then. Start with timeliness," this is the reason we remember these steps so well. This is the Reeducation stage.
"I did not take care of the clients wishes in time nor was I timely in my manor ma'am," I dare not move at this point. I was so full of fear of that stick in her hand that I didn't even blink.
"And cleanliness?" Her words were hard now.
"I let the other operative-" my voice cracked and broke as the stick crashed against the back of my knees. No matter how I tried I failed to catch myself as I collapsed to the ground. I felt the ground rise up and hit me almost as hard as The Baroness. But what she didn't know was how it had truly hurt. His arrow had caught me in the calf. The wound was still healing and had cost me dearly when it came to finishing the job. It was why I was late finishing it in the first place. I couldn't let the target see me limp or he would start asking questions.
"Stupid girl. We never let anyone do anything that is not in the best interests of The Organization," her voice found me through the fog of pain like a hawks shrieks.
"Yes ma'am," I managed to stutter out. My voice is no longer clear and concise. It wobbles. My left cheek had gone numb and it was now making it hard to articulate as nicely as would be proper in front of a Baroness. My sentence sounded more like Yesh mam. I had never felt so low in my life. I could not even speak.
"You are going to be taken to the hospital wing," she knocked on the wall and two medics came into the room. "they will clean you up enough that you can begin your three days on the roof," her voice has returned to the calm state. The two medics picked me up and slid me onto one of the med bays rolling beds. It smelled like bleach and cloth detergent.
As they wheeled me out of the room The Baroness leaned down next to me and whispered in my ear "Your next mission is to finish what you started girl," her voice was deadly. It left my ear hot.
"Yes… ma-… ma'am," I squeezed out. She knew I had left him alive. And now, I had to kill him.