Gr… I also had to retype this one as well… had to redo the whole stinkin' thing… gr… But anyways, enjoy!
Chapter 8: The Canadian Maple
Berlin, Germany. 0738
It's been four days since the incident. Rogue was in her hotel room, brushing her fingers against the carpeted floor. Her stomach would occasionally ache, so that was why she was now on her stomach on her bed.
"This is cruelty…" Rogue groaned.
All of a sudden, a knock came on the door. She sighed as she rolled off of bed and shuffled towards the door. She assured that her gun was there before swinging the door open.
A man and a woman stood there, both in business suits. The woman was a brunette with straight hair in a bun. The man had greying black hair trimmed for a professional look.
"General Tvarkov?" the woman asked.
"Quite." Rogue said.
"Excellent. I am Agent Allison Porter. This is Agent Jake Deltrob." The agent said.
"Ah, give me a sec." Rogue said and swung the door close. She hastily began fixing her stuff in her room.
"She looks normal." Allison said.
"Oh, don't be fooled." Jake scoffed, "I heard her sigh. The front of her shirt's been a bit ruffled, meaning she's been lying on it for some time."
"Since when did you become Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Deltrob?" Allison asked.
"Since when did you become John Watson, Ms. Porter?" Jake replied.
The jet was quiet. No one spoke a word as they lounged around the row of seats. Jake was reading a guns magazine, making shooting noises every now and then. Allison was going through something in her laptop, typing occasionally. Rogue was reading her briefing file.
"Canada." Rogue said as she looked up, "Why Canada?"
"Terrorists end up in unlikely places, no?" Jake said.
"Yeah." Allison said.
"Alright." Rogue sighed, "Here I go…"
While Rogue and Allison were busy waiting for their luggage, Jake was busy trying to contact the Quebec Station.
"Quebec is a cool place." Allison said, trying to strike a conversation with the eccentric agent beside her.
"Quite." Rogue said, pulling the coat further around her.
"You alright, Ms. Tvarkov?" Allison asked.
"I'm fine." Rogue lied. Her stomach protested with each passing second.
"Hey, those are ours, yeah?" Allison asked, pointing at some black chrome bags.
The trip to the Quebec Station was quiet, awkward even. Allison was busy typing things up on her laptop, Jake was glaring at Rogue, and Rogue was just observing people as they passed by.
"Ordinary people." Rogue sighed, "Aren't they just adorable to watch?"
"Adorable?" Allison looked up, "How can they be adorable?"
Rogue shrugs, "They just are."
"Something's wrong with your thinking, no?" Allison mumbled as she looked back to her laptop.
"No. It's perfectly fine." Rogue smirked.
Allison looked at her one more time before shaking her head and turning back to her laptop.
"Hello, mates. I'm Agent Percy Harrison, and I'll be your assistant for your stay here."
Rogue tuned in and out frequently, not really paying attention.
"… General Tvarkov?"
"Yes?" Rogue turned to look at Agent Harrison.
"W-Were you listening?" he asked timidly.
"Um, no. I'm sorry, you were saying?" Rogue asked.
"We'll be going to your rooms, where you'll be staying." He said.
"Ah, alright. Let's go."
Rogue looked around her room. It had pale blue walls, and a white ceiling. The bed sheets were a darker shade of navy blue, and the carpet was a black color.
"How's Canada, Tvarkov?"
Rogue turned towards her laptop, showing a live feed of Jason, who was at HQ.
"Cold." Rogue chuckled, "Then again, I'm Russian. I'll be fine."
"And the people?"
"Quite nice. Timid, a bit." Rogue shrugged as she slipped on the chair in front of the laptop, "How's HQ?"
"Hectic." It was now Jason's turn to chuckle, "I have a good story to tell you once you get back, mind you."
"Alright, alright." Rogue rolled her eyes, "Well, I need to rest now. I have a meeting with the officers tomorrow."
"Oh. Alright." Jason smiled, "See you."
"Of course."
Rogue skimmed through the files before her, frowning occasionally every time she comes across a document written in French.
"We have reason to believe that they have created a base a few kilometers from Newfoundland. " the officer, Colonel Rich Arson, said while pacing, "Your mission, agent, is to infiltrate it and obtain vital information that they may have kept in there."
"Uh… yeah…" Allison, who was beside her, looked up, "I can't speak French."
"That file is basically explaining the number of small boats that's been going back and forth in Newfoundland to said island." Rogue said before looking at her files.
"She speaks French?" Allison whispered to Jake, who was beside her.
"I read her file. English, Russian, French, German, and Spanish." Jake murmured.
"I'm not fluent in Canadian French." Rogue mumbled to them while taking out another document, "I've been reading up since yesterday on how to speak Canadian French."
"Ah." Allison smiled, "That explains the dictionary I saw sticking out of your duffle bag."
"Hm… quite." Rogue murmured.
"Would you like to see the officers now?" Rich asked.
"Send them in, please." Rogue said as she fixed her files in a neat file in front of her.
Three men filed in, all three sporting green uniforms. Rogue quickly deduced it to Army.
"I thought we were to see EPF officials." Rogue turned to Rich.
"Well… this isn't entirely our sole mission…" Rich said, "More than 50% of the mission is under the leadership of the Canadian Armed Forces…"
"Alright…" Rogue sighed, "Well, good morning gentlemen. Take a seat."
The men nodded, and sat down before her. A man with greying hair sat before Rogue.
"So, you are the famous and infamous Rogue Tvarkov?" the man before her asked.
"Quite." Rogue said, her tone lightly peppered with presentiment.
"I am General Arthur McCain. This is Colonel Prince Irwin, and this is Colonel Archer Price." He said.
"Alright, General. How may I be of service?" Rogue asked.
McCain leaned forward; boring his green eyes into Rogue's, "Canada is asking a favor from you, an infamous Red Room former, yes?"
"If we could please stick to subject." Rogue said, nearly sighing.
"I'd like to test who I trust first." McCain said, "Irwin, Price, please escort these two agents out first. I'd like to speak with Tvarkov first."
Allison and Jake looked at each other before shrugging and standing up along with Irwin and Price.
The door closed behind them, and they stared at each other.
"They say that you can deduce the current state of a person just by looking at them. Like the female Sherlock Holmes-"
"Except, I graduated with a specialty in Analysis. He graduated in Chemistry." Rogue corrected.
McCain leaned back on his chair, "Go on, then. Deduce me."
"You don't trust me because I'm a Russian, plus points because I'm a Tvarkov. You don't have a good experience with Tvarkovs as your great? Great. Great grandfather was murdered by one. I'm guessing Philipp Tvarkov, given the number of times his name was on the documents, murdered him. You have bags on your eyes, meaning you haven't been sleeping well. You kept on looking at Allison dearly, as if she was a lover of some sorts. But due to the fact that the girl is single and that she is highly unlikely to be your girlfriend, I'm assuming that she reminds you of a daughter or a wife. No, wife." Rogue said before smirking, "Will that be enough, McCain?"
"Enough." McCain nodded, "But like you, I have also graduated of Analysis in the Academy on the Art of Espionage. Would you like me to deduce you?"
Rogue glared at him, "Tell me how you recognized me. If you don't trust me, that means you haven't read my file."
"I can tell that you were Rogue Tvarkov by the slightly dazed look in your eyes. I know that look, it's the result of exposure to certain chemicals for a long time." He looked at her again, "I'm guessing insecticide, hallucinating drugs, and chloroform."
"Go on." Rogue said, a small smile tugging her lips.
"I can tell that you're a former Red Room agent by your tone when you first started speaking. I have heard rumors about you, and one of them was that you served a certain country's government before defecting to Club People. You had a hint of a Russian accent as well as a Russian surname, which narrowed it down to Russia. You didn't have any tattoos on your collarbone, so it's not Armed Forces. So, I'm guessing you're from the infamous Red Room."
"Brilliant." Rogue smirked, "Have I already gained your trust?"
"Not yet, Tvarkov." He nearly smirked at the slight frown she nursed, "Tell me. Why must I trust a person like you who has records?"
"Criminal records?" Rogue scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Oh please. EPF blotted that out for me."
He looked at her cautiously, "Answer the question."
"You trust the EPF, correct?" Rogue eyed him as he nodded, "You trust that the agency will give you a good agent to use, yeah?"
"Quite." He nodded.
"You're not looking at good." Rogue smirked, "You're looking at brilliant. You're looking at the lovechild of Russian genetic engineering and AAE training."
"I know that." He frowned, "I just want to know why I should trust you."
"Trust me?" Rogue smiled, "Know the unspoken rule of the EPF, general. Don't. Trust. Anyone."
"So you're telling me not to trust you?" he glared at her.
"Oh, no." Rogue smiled, "You're mistaken. Yes, you can trust me to get the job done, but to trust me with your life? I will not be in fault when you're attacked in the middle of the night by men."
"Very well." McCain nodded, "Brilliant."
He handed her a file that she immediately started browsing through.
"You have two days to prepare."
Allison was never one to fight. She preferred being behind the desk, typing away, rather than out in the heat, gun in hand. Watching other people fight, though, is a whole different story.
"I didn't know that you could do kung-fu." She said as she watched Rogue do another kick.
"You don't much about me, Allison." Rogue said while doing another flying kick, "You didn't read my file."
"Deltrob did." Allison said while walking in. She watched as Rogue gave the punching bag two fluid punches.
"Yes, and you aren't Deltrob." Rogue said before stopping and turning to Allison.
"Today's the op, right?" Allison asked.
"Yes." Rogue sighed, "It is."
"What's the plan again?" Allison asked.
"Okay, quick brief." McCain said towards the group of officers before him.
"Our agent, Agent Tvarkov, will be flown into the drop zone and dropped via plane. Tvarkov will then swim the few kilometers and into the island. She'll obtain data for us before sending out the signal to pick her up. Agent Deltrob will be swooping in on her with the Alpha Team." He said, "Are we clear?"
There was a chorus of grunting.
"Alright." McCain said, "Now, where the hell is that Russian?"
"Approaching the drop zone." An agent said into his radio.
"Copy." Rogue said as she approached the exit.
"You don't have a chute, agent?" McCain grunted into her earpiece.
"No sir, I don't." Rogue said just as the doors were opening.
"Down in 3, 2, 1!" the pilot yelled at her before she gave a thumbs up and fell.
"You must be insane, agent." She barely heard McCain through the whistling of the air.
"That is the most accurate thing you've said so far, sir." Rogue yelled through the whistling.
Rogue prepared herself for the impact of the water before she allowed it to embrace her. She allowed the coolness to soak her diving uniform as she pulled on the zipper and got out of her suit. Under it was a scuba suit.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and dove into the water.
"She's in." Deltrob said as he turned towards McCain.
"Excellent. Tvarkov, I want a status report." McCain said.
"Sir, we have no casualties…" Rogue said as walked through the empty halls, "…yet."
"Don't start wishing for some, darling." McCain said.
"Tvarkov out."
Rogue typed into the computer, frowning every time she got back what she didn't want.
"Why is it in Russian…" Rogue mumbled before plugging in her USB that contained an especially made virus.
She knew something was wrong the moment the computer unlocked, she just didn't know what.
"What is it with you that makes you off…" Rogue mumbled, looking through the Russian files.
"Something of the matter, Tvarkov?" McCain said as she winced.
"I don't know sir, I just-" Rogue screamed in frustration as she heard a wave of white noise attack her.
She went on her knees as she covered her ears and closed her eyes. She screamed once more before feeling her energy inch away from her.
She slumped on the table as she noticed a familiar pair of shoes…
HAHA! CLIFFHANGER!
I'm so sorry for being inactive.
Lol cliffhanger.
It was the writer's block.
So… the finale of this story will be… soon…
