Hi again. I'm back. A shout out to TsukiharaKitty and anonymous elephant. Thank you so much!

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Mission 1

Agent

Aleksandra Bogdan sighed, rising from her hunched position over the bar counter. It was early afternoon in wintry Russia, pale sunlight drifting gently into the club from the arched windows. Aleksandra herself was a striking woman of eighteen, long copper tresses pulled back in a hasty ponytail, away from her glowing blue eyes as she worked. Standing at 5'8'', with faintly tanned skin and an athletic body, she was the ideal bartender to subdue the binge drinkers during work hours with her subtle charms and kind words. Being a fairly good fighter was an added bonus when things got out of hand. Dressed in faded jeans and a black t-shirt, she was hard at work cleaning the vodka spills left over from the night before. Heavy footsteps resounded in the room, echoing from the first floor stairs. One of her friends and co-workers, Gavriil Lyov, appeared on the threshold.

He was smiling cheerfully at his friend, almost a child compared to his 33 years of age. Gavriil was tall and broad shouldered, thick chords of muscle displaying his brute strength. The harsh visage was contrasted by his sparkling green eyes and soft black hair. Casually dressed in jeans and muscle shirt, he swaggered over to the bar and sat down. In addition to being a bouncer at the Flare, he was the Black Wing's demolitions expert.

"Hey Gav. What's up?"

"Nothing new. It was the usual party last night. Only a few new ones turned up. Although I can hazard a guess that they'll come back soon." The regular crowd turned up at least once a week, so the employees of the Flare had begun to learn their names. It was an interesting business because every one of them had their quirks.

But behind the cheerful small talk and smiles, Aleksandra could sense that something was going on that upset her friend. She wasn't a bartender for nothing.

"Something's wrong, Gavriil, don't try to hide it from me." He shook his head with an amused sigh.

"You are getting too good at that. Mikhail wants to see you in his office. He mentioned something about a mission." Aleks smiled kindly at him. Since she joined the Black Wing and began work at the club, Gavriil had instantly taken a liking to her and acted like her big brother.

Wiping her hands on a rag and murmuring a thank you, she hurried down the stairs, through the 'Employees Only' door by the reception area. The stairwell was well lit, and the pale yellow walls and carpeted floor was a cheery sight. The oak banister followed the wall in spirals to the floor below. Jumping over it was faster, but it irked the club Manager and Missions Co-ordinator, Mikhail Miloslav.

His office was at the end of a long, bright corridor lined with other locked doors. If anyone managed to sneak downstairs, any efforts to open one would be delayed long enough for someone to get downstairs and throw them out. The contents of the rooms ranged from laboratories where various tests were carried out and storage areas for a wide range of firearms, hardware and electronics.

Aleksandra reached the door quickly, rapping it several times, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. A muffled acknowledgment floated through the wood. The female agent entered quickly, greeting her superior respectfully. Mikhail was an intimidating middle aged man, his face set in a hard frown, and harsh, red eyes. His expression softened to one of kindness upon her entry, motioning for her to sit down. Another co-worker was also there, a boy of her age named Pavel Nestor. He worked as a coat boy in reception. She returned his welcoming grin, framed by messy blond hair and deep green eyes. Something about his calm and laid back attitude instantly made her like him. Sitting down, the pair waited for their boss to speak. After a pause and shuffling of papers from which a manila folder was extracted, Mr. Miloslav looked at them sternly through his reading glasses.

"I have a mission for both of you, Ms. Bogdan and Mr. Nestor, one of great importance. We have received reports of suspicious and unlawful behaviour at the St. Peter Abby, 1272 Park Street in up town Moscow. The reports describe child exploitation and inhumane practices including torture and human experiments." Aleks felt her heart drop and her conscious kick in. How can someone do that?

"We sent a man in for reconnaissance some months ago, and the result was this report. He has been asked not to leave his post, but he wishes the issue to be resolved quickly. He has been forced to do some…regrettable deeds in order to provide us with this information" Both agents cringed at his sombre expression.

"I am sending the two of you in undercover as recruits, misnamed orphans, to collect evidence and observe inhumane acts that will hold a court session against the Abby's leaders." Silence reigned for long minutes, the atmosphere grim. Finally, Pavel spoke.

"I for one don't want this kind of thing happening in my city. And I have a little brother the same age as those kids. I'm in." Strengthened by his resolve, Aleks nodded her head as well. She was an only child, so she thought of her childhood friends instead. Mikhail smiled.

"Good. You have the best observation skills in the organization Aleks. Paval, you are the best rational thinker. Both of you have shown the ability to hold your own in a fight and you both know when it's best to stay silent. The pair of you together have the potential to take down the organization within that Abby. And I would never send in a lone agent on a mission this dangerous. Now then. These are your main targets and hazards." A white screen descended behind the desk and the room darkened. Aleks moved forward in her seat, face set. Moving his chair so that they could see properly, Mr. Miloslav clicked the remote and the picture of a middle age man filled the screen. He was decked out in military colours and uniform style, a tribute to the methods he used.

"This is Boris Balkov, the resident leader. He is closely guarded by his top 'trainees', so getting close to him will be difficult as low ranking additions. He trains the young boys in dangerous beyblading techniques and strategies, as well as various military-based skills, including the handling of firearms. Be careful. He is ruthless and cold blooded, and he will not hesitate to punish anyone who disrespects him or who is not fulfilling his expectations. Although he does not blade, he does know the ways of the military." The image of Boris was replaced by one of a red-headed man with pale skin and ice blue eyes, a cold frown set on his features. He was dressed mock aviator attire.

"Tala Valkov is the top student at the facility. Don't be fooled by his actions. He is only one year older than the two of you. He is a ruthless blader and will not tolerate disrespect. This is understandable, considering that he has been in that place since early childhood. Respect is difficult to earn there. It was also noted that he may be a subject in biological experiments, designed to enhance his skills, mentally and physically. The experiments somehow strengthen the physical cells and improve the rate at which he can learn. Whether he consented willingly or unwilling is unknown. His blade…" The image of the cold blader moved to the side, making room for technical specs and stats of the blade itself.

"…is a piece of work. It not only has an almost indestructible structure, it houses a spirit called Wolborg, an ice wolf. Be mindful of his ice attacks. They are very much real." The image disappeared to be replaced by a picture of a tall blond with blue eyes. His expression was serious, though it appeared that he retained some amount of humanity through his training. His eyes held a faint glimmer of light. His blade specs were displayed beside the image.

"Spencer is also one year older than you two. His surname is unknown. Spencer has also been there for as long as Tala has. He has been known to show acts of mercy, but he is also a very good observer. He could give you a run for your money Aleksandra. Don't do anything rash with him insight, as it may result in your capture. His blade is also well built, relying on strategy and pure skill than its own strength. It is well balanced. He also possesses a spirit, an ancient whale called Seaborg. As you may have guessed, all of his attacks are water based." Once again the picture was replaced by one of a seemingly emotionless man with pale hair and cold lavender eyes with his blade stats.

"Bryan Kuznetsov is very dangerous, even though he is the same age as Spencer and Tala. I want you to avoid him if it is at all possible. He is known for his acts of cruelty during beybattles, damaging the blade and harming the opponent, sometimes critically. Be very careful, as the attack will come without warning. He also has unusually good hearing and eyesight, so don't do anything rash if you even remotely suspect that he is nearby. His blade also houses a spirit, Falborg. It is a falcon of equal cruelty, as it attacks are what harm the opponent. You can't call him on a foul either, because, although you may be hurt, the wind attacks the falcon uses are virtually invisible to the naked eye." Again, the screen was filled with a different member, a short boy with a mop of dark purple hair and mocking burgundy eyes. He was smirking arrogantly at the camera, beside which his blade stats were displayed.

"Ian Papov is the final member of the world renowned team known as the Demolition Boys. Don't be fooled by his age or size. He's a rat, snooping around if he suspects anything. Do not mock him, even if you are tempted to. He will undoubtedly relay everything back to his team mates during practice or meals. Your reputation and respect will drop drastically if they also feel that it is not humorous, so be careful. Every under elite in that building fears and idolizes the Demolition Boys. The mission cannot be compromised because you couldn't hold your tongue. Now, continuing to his blade. It holds a snake spirit. Wyborg's attacks are capable of stunning your own, so be careful." Mikhail paused to turn off the projector and retract the white screen. The agents were stunned speechless.

"Now then, that's the people. Here are the details. They begin their yearly recruitment of new members in a week, so I suggest that you read through these folders and brush up on your skills. The recruitment is under the guise of a friendly competition and non-formal dinner. The agent already in the Abby is only a guard, so he can offer you the comfort of being there. Both of you have the next week off work. I'm sorry to have to ask you two to do such a dangerous mission." He stood, extending his hand.

"Good luck."

Aleks wrapped a clammy hand around her blade, feeling the comforting warmth of Faina, her lioness spirit. The Abby sounded like something from her nightmares.

That night, Aleksandra lay sprawled on her bed, propped up on her elbows. The thick folder of papers lay helter-skelter in front of her, divided into piles and spilling onto the floor. From what she could gather, the mission included disguising herself as a boy and becoming a recruit. The report noted that no girls were allowed on the premises. The residents had few personal belongings because uniforms were provided by the facility. Very few were allowed outside the Abby walls. It also noted the crude behaviour of the lower ranks, which worried her. What if they found out that she was a girl? Aleks shuddered at the thought.

The rest of the papers described the Abby's floor plan, the daily regimen, punishments of varying degrees, the food, the trainers, the experiments…the atrocities covered a good twenty or so pages. She was also given a copy of the Demolitions Boys stats and styles as quick reference when needed.

It was overwhelming. She had to disguise herself as a boy so well that no one could see through her lie when she took off her shirt (a requirement noted in the punishment section of the papers.) and sneak through the haunted building by night, searching for Lord-knows-what to serve as evidence. With an exhausted sigh, the female clutched the silver cross dangling from her throat and rolled over to glace at the clock.

11:00 PM exactly...

Gathering up the papers and putting them back neatly in the folder, she stashed them away in a locked drawer and retreated to the shower to think. The hot water jogged her thoughts into overdrive: thinking, planning, deciding on logical items to take with her, (I wish I could take my music…) and remembering accomplices that could help her that Mikhail would approve of…

"This calls for a visit to Raisa."