CHAPTER 2: The fiasco of a Team
''WHAT?!''. An angry voice rang out. It belonged to the Sniper, a man who had worked side by side with the former Spy. The scrape of a chair, a jostle of clothes, and the Sniper was quick to walk up to the new Spy, Cyrille. He grabbed her blazer in both of her hands, and tightened his grip. His eyes got in a glare behind his amber tinted sunglasses, and he hissed. ''I refuse to work with this… This wretch.''.
Cyrille's eyes opened slightly, and then steeled into a cold squint. She sneered at the Sniper, and shot out venomous words. ''How dare you!'', her French accent was heard in all corners of the room, and a few people winced at the venom in her voice. ''How dare you, bushman! Is this how this is supposed to be? Am I really that much of a hindrance?''. Sniper's eyes widened and his vision wandered over her face.
His hands that tightly clasped her blazer slackened, and his gaze dropped to the floor. He mumbled out something, but Cyrille couldn't hear it. ''I'm sorry, what was that?'', she spat out. She wasn't even trying to be nice. Sniper winced, and then mumbled a bit louder. She scoffed. ''I can't understand mumbling.''.
The Sniper raised his voice, and he nearly shouted out the answer in despair. ''You remind me of him!''. A collective of gasps echoed in the room, like when a schoolgirl would tell who her crush was. Cyrille stood still, and then blinked twice. She tilted her head, and when she was to ask a question, Sniper continued. ''You look like him! Your nose! Your eyes! Your stature! Heck, even your laugh is spot on!''.
He shook his head, mumbled something that sounded like 'I won't work together with you', and walked out of the meeting room, being sure to slam the door after him.
The slam echoed, and Scout jumped, nearly bumping into Cyrille.
The woman scowled at the door, before straightening herself and going into a professional position. Her eyes scanned the rest of the men, and to her it seemed like they all shrunk in their chairs. Even the big guy beside the German seemed to get a bit smaller. Cyrille whipped her head over to Scout. Her eyes softened. ''Who… Do I remind of you of?''.
Scout shifted slightly and then answered hesitantly. ''Our former Spy.''. He held a pause, his eyes sweeping over his teammates. ''He died.''.
An 'Oh', escaped her lips. She shuffled a bit, seemingly unaware of how to react. She nervously smoothed out her blazer, like a habit and kept her hands occupied. A finger twitched, and Cyrille winced. ''Uhmmm…'', she got out, trying to find a theme to talk about. Yet when she were about to talk the Medic of the team rose from his chair, and talked.
''Your hand keep twitching. Is something wrong? Do you need anything?'', he asked, his eyes steely but curious. The new Spy nodded fast, but then shook her head. ''No. I don't need anything.''. The Medic squinted his eyes. ''I know you need something, Fräulein*.''. ''I really don't.'', she insisted, her whole right hand shaking, but of course she didn't know that. She was in a fight with herself about self control at the moment.
The Scout piped up. ''Is it a cigarette?''. The woman stopped, her mouth hanging open from the word she was about to say. She quickly closed it though, and hesitantly nodded. ''I tried stopping though…'', she mumbled out. Scout shook his head though, and lightly smiled. ''We both know that you can't stop.'', he said.
A hoarse chuckle escaped Cyrille's lips. ''You're right.''. Her slightly shaking right hand drove into her blazer, and a few seconds later a silver case emerged. She quickly opened it, and took one of the cancer sticks out from it. She closed it again with a 'Clank', and elegantly put the stick in between her lips. While the case still was in her right hand, her left hand dove into her pocket in her suit pants, fingers fumbling after a lighter. Her brows knitted together, and then sighed when she remembered that she forgot her expensive lighter back at the van with the older male.
She slightly sucked on the cigarette, a expression of thought on her face. She didn't see when the gasmask clad figure stood from its chair and walked in front of her, holding a cheap one-time lighter in its hand. Only when she was poked by a finger enclosed in rubber did she see the flickering flame in front of her face. She stood mesmerized for a few seconds, and the asked out loud: ''May I smoke in here? Or shall I go outside?''. The voice of Miss Pauling was who answered her question. ''You are allowed to smoke in here. Just promise us to not set anything on fire.''.
Cyrille chuckled, and a 'Sure' left her mouth as she leaned forward, lightening the cigarette. She let it burn a bit, before breathing in. A satisfied breath was let out together with the smoke she had breathed in, and the smell of smoke filled the air. ''Merci.'', she let out. A bunch of mumbles that sounded happy came from the masked figure, and a quick hug came afterwards, making the woman stretch her back in utter surprise.
When the figure let her go, it skipped back to its chair. The lighter was still alight in its hand, and when it sat it moved the flame up to its face, and a blissful sound came from inside the mask. Cyrille stood still for some moments. ''Does… It have a name?''.
A man with a drunken slur slung out some sounds that sounded like 'Pyro', but she couldn't be sure. A quick glance around the room though was enough for her to see that it was true.
Removing the cigarette from her chapped lips, she rested her hand at her side, making the stick dangle between her nimble fingers.
A 'Thump' was heard, and the man with the eye-patch fell from his chair, drool sliding from his mouth and down onto the floor. A small 'disgusting' came from Cyrille, a look on her face showing of the emotion matching the word. But it wasn't really heard by all. Only Scout heard it, and he had trouble stifling his laughter.
A sigh came from Miss Pauling while she stepped forward, tapping the new Spy on the shoulder. Cyrille turned, and words flew out of the woman clad in purples mouth. ''Miss Cyrille, you need to get your uniform.''. Miss Pauling held up her hand, and there hang two different kind of fancy slim bags. ''There is two, as we didn't know if you were a male or female, but…'', she stopped, and laid one of the bags on the floor carefully. She then stood up and began to open the other on. ''This one is meant for the females.''.
When it had opened, and she took the clothing out from it, Cyrille made a noise of displeasure. There was a skirt! And was that stockings? ''It is so… So revealing!'', she spat out. She quickly took the fine clothing and just about hissed at it. How could she walk around in that? There were as said, a skirt that would reach her mid thigh, see through stockings that would be held up by straps that would sit in her underwear, a tight blazer that would show of her non-existing curves, and a scarf that would show of her cleavage. Also underneath the blazer were to be a nearly see through white shirt. On her face there would lay a pair of expensive designer sun-glasses, and a hood-like hat were to hide her hair. The shoes that she would wear were high-heels. All of it was in colors of bright red, black and white.
''I refuse to wear this!'', she told Miss Pauling. Cyrille held out her left hand, as her right one was still occupied by the cigarette, though there wasn't much of it left.
The other woman sighed, and gave the new Spy the other bag. ''This one is for males.''. When Cyrille got her hand on the bag, she dropped the cancer stick, and was sure to smudge it out with her shoes. She then turned to Scout. ''Care to show me the way to a bathroom?''. He shrugged, and began to jog to the door, Cyrille following. They exited the room, went down a hallway, turned a right, and before them stood a door labeled 'Community Bathroom'. Cyrille was horrified. That meant she would have to share with a bunch of men.
Though she didn't dwell on it for long, and she entered the bathroom. Inside it there were a lot of stalls, covered by curtains. There was also another kind of stall, though these were completely covered by tall wall like planks that were painted in a ghastly green. Otherwise, it looked like an ordinary locker-room. One of them you would see in a High school.
She walked into one of the stalls with planks, and saw a toilet in it. She shrugged, opened the bag, and began to remove her clothes.
Back in the meeting room the Scout had returned. He was normally one to want to peep if women were to change clothes, but he knew that Cyrille would kill him if he did. He also figured that she would know the way back, since it was an easy way to the bathroom.
He scanned the room, and then got back to his chair. The Medic had also returned to his seat where he looked over health papers of the team, and every now and then Scout could see a few pictures of the Medics experiments.
He sat still for a few seconds, and then began tapping on his legs. This continued for a few minutes.
In the stall Cyrille had finally put on the clothes, and she moved slightly her limps to become more comfortable in it. It was a new uniform, so it was kind of stiff. Once she was comfortable and had taken her original clothes up in her arms, she opened the stall and moved towards the door that would lead out of the Community Bathroom. She opened it, and moved out.
Cyrille followed the way Scout had showed her, and know that she thought about it, it was kind of obvious. When she had reached her destination, she stopped right before the door, just so it was impossible for the ones inside the room to see her. She took a breath, straightened her back, walked into the room and cleared her throat.
With the clear of a throat, the males inside the room lifted their heads to see what the woman, Cyrille, were to wear. And what they saw wasn't exactly a surprise, yet it came out as a surprise.
The clothing were no-where near feminine, it actually hid her curves from sight. She wore the standard male Spy uniform. A suit in the color of 'Redwood Red', with a lighter tone of pinstripes clung to her torso and legs. Underneath the coat you could just about see a vest in the same colors. A blood red tie hang around her neck in a nice fashion, and a pristine white button up shirt rested underneath it all. Her hands wore bound in charcoal gloves that made small sounds whenever she flexed her hands. On her feet she wore leather shoes that seemed expensive. They had small heels that would click slightly whenever she walked.
Though what really got most of them was the balaclava resting on her head. It showed only the area around her eyes, and her mouth. Her nose was completely covered in the fine cloth. Her eyebrows were visible and arched; one of them was even raised. The small wisp of hair that normally rested above her eyes was still there, and it split into two. It was the only sign of what laid above her eyes.
In all, she looked like a man. Even her chest had been relatively squished down, making her chest nearly flat except for two small bumps.
Cyrille scratched her neck, or tried, and looked at the men. ''So… What do you think?'', she asked them, and the Scout showed of a shaky thumbs-up, the Heavy smiled nervously and the Soldier huffed.
The woman who stood in the background, Miss Pauling, shook her head, smiled slightly and said: ''Come now Spy,'', she said, testing the class name out. It was weird having to say it to a woman now, she concluded. '', I will show you to your room.''.