Burn it to the ground
The fasten seatbelts sigh went off and I was immediately out of my chair, bringing with me the duffle bag I had been given at the headquarters. It still felt lame to think that word.
The bathroom was smaller than I thought. I don't make it a habit to leave my seat anytime during a flight.
I put the bag on the sink, tearing my sweats off to find what they had packed for me. A pair of black stretch jeggings that hugged my legs. A pair of black bamboo socks – I swear, it's the softest kind on the whole fucking planet.
Black boots that reached half-way up my calf – wedge in the middle and two buckles, one at the top and another at the bottom. A slight heel of half an inch and a zipper that held no function.
A navy blue tank laid next and a pleather jacket. I pushed my old clothes into the bag and my sneakers. A loud knock came on the door. I barely contained a growl and punched the door back. I heard a loud gasp and smirked.
Turning back to the mirror, I removed the bag, starting the water to wash my face. The cold felt nice against my heated face. Turbulence shook the plane and I was crashed back into the wall.
Waiting for my heart to get back into a regular rhythm, I started applying mascara, along with eyeliner. Finding my smoky eyes acceptable for a plane bathroom, I was done. I zipped up the duffle bag and got out of the bathroom.
Sitting down, I pulled out the mini laptop and pushed in the USB, catching up on my assignment.
oOo
Wanting to beat my own score – I was all business now – I was one of the first out of my seats and off the plane. It took me seven minutes reaching the parking lot and finding the black sedan with tinted windows. I dump my bag on the way, throwing it into the trash nonchalantly. Crouching, I pull the key out of the exhaust pipe and pop the trunk.
There is a light-weight black backpack inside along with a small plastic container to its right. I don't open either before I'm safely inside the car. There was also a messy messenger bag stocked with everything I would need to get back once my assignment was over but there was no need to look through that now.
The plastic contains a cold 45 caliber along with a cartridge and discrete holster. I place the latter at the small of my back before pushing the ammo inside the gun and then the gun inside the backpack. I couldn't take any risk.
I start the car and drive off – for once keeping to the speed limit; I couldn't get pulled over. It's a long ride to the city, or at least it feels that way. As the streets become more and more deserted, I reach for the handicap permit inside the glove compartment before parking, just seventy yards from my target.
I see my entry – a maintenance door to the left of the subway station. But it's still too early. I'll have to wait one hour and sixteen minutes before I have my twenty-seven minutes inside, including the exit strategy. The time is ridiculous but not impossible.
Sometimes I think they make the targets harder and harder and the timestamp shorter and shorter just to test us, not really caring whether or not we get caught.
Fortunately for me, I don't get caught.
oOo
It's time.
I jump out of the car and walk with brisk steps across the street. The door buckles easily to my will and I make my way down the steps.
The air was colder than I thought. I felt the hair stand on my arms and didn't settle until I was down the last step. I took two seconds to take a deep breath before continuing down my right. After another turn, this time to the left, there was a 444 feet long tunnel.
Everywhere around me, I heard the familiar swoosh as the trains passed by above. The tips of my fingers prickled and I knew the familiar rush of adrenaline wasn't far away. At the thought if that, my feet carried me faster. I straightened up my posture and stopped thinking of everything that could be a distraction.
I came to the end of the tunnel to a two-inch thick metallic door. Since the room behind was currently used for… nothing…. I wasn't expecting it to be locked. Shutting it, the sound echoed through the square room, and I was left in total darkness.
Finding the switch, the room illuminated around me. I quickly walked to a table conveniently placed down my left and dropped the backpack onto it with a thump. I couldn't risk the added weight when I proceeded with the assignment.
I tore the zipper open and grabbed the 45 caliber Colt and pushed it into the holster discretely placed at the small of my back, shielded from view by my cotton top and pleather jacket. I only had the ammo which was already inside, containing twelve bullets, but I wasn't planning on using it. Guns aren't my solution but a back-up if I were to be in desperate need.
I moved on and fastened two plastic tubes which – if you cracked them – surged with light, on the outside of my right thigh. The only reason I was doing this now and possible spoiling time was by the fact I would have drawn too much unwanted attention had I gone outside with light sticks strapped to my thigh.
The next item, a black blade, smooth along the length, which snapped into the handle. I bent down and pushed the surprisingly light object into my boot. The cold metal pushed into my ankle but it wasn't too uncomfortable. This was the knife I only used on assignments. It was light enough it wouldn't weigh me down but it was too large to use on a regular basis in flats or converse.
Standing up and sighing, I brought out two metallic discs, almost half an inch thick. To the naked eye, they were nothing but scrap but when I pressed the discrete button in the center, four razor-sharp blades shot out. Then the devices started to blink the sharpest baby blue light. I looked up at the ceiling and bended my knees to get leverage. I let the metallic sphere in my right hand go. It surged with a whisk through the air and crashed into the concrete. I then pushed the other sphere up the same way but two meters away. It as well stuck to the ceiling like it had been glued there.
I whipped my head around, searching for a place to take cover. I ran across the room in a heartbeat, knocking over a table in the process and as soon as I crashed behind, a small beep echoed in the room, followed by a loud bang. The ceiling crumbled and dust swirled around like fog.
I waited for the last pieced of plaster to hit the floor before sitting up on my knees, taking a look around. The two-inch circle had almost blown off the entire ceiling. There was dust and concrete all over the floor. I raced to the bag and pulled out a mask. Placing it over my mouth and eyes, I waited for the dust to clear before moving from the wall. I went to stand underneath the hole and gazed up.
It was dark. And moist. I could hear a water drop. Most of the dust had settled. I removed the mask and threw it onto the floor. I dragged the cheap piece of table across the room and placed it to the wall, then went to the other side and recoiled for spring. I jumped up on the top, placed my jumping foot on the wall and then pushed myself up. I caught hold of the side and dangled for a second before swinging to the side and my thigh was over the edge.
I exhaled as I stood up, watching my way. It was a part of the subway. Though the rails I stood on were too old to be used now. I glanced down to my right, trying to peer through the darkness. I did the same to my left but with no success. The only light came from down the hole; the lamps that hadn't been blasted away. I grabbed at the plastic tube on my thigh. I broke it and shook until a screaming orange tint blasted from the plastic.
I started down my right. I cracked my neck and felt the tension leave my body. I frowned at the rat which ran two feet ahead of me on the railing.
I walked for almost five minutes before hearing something. I cocked my head to the side and watched how a corner visualized in front of me. I crept up towards it and had half my head around the edge when a whoosh came and the train passed me by an inch. I yanked away and fell back to the concrete wall.
I took several deep and calming breaths and the train passed. I listened for another but got nothing. The railing I had been following went across the newer one and disappeared into another tunnel of darkness. I crossed the path and peered down my left. The tunnel curved but I knew I heard faint voices.
I held the tube high above my head and continued.
oOo
My arms groaned in protest and I thought I wouldn't be able to but finally, the block moved and I could push it to the side. I leaned back against the wall before climbing the last steps and sat down on the cement floor.
The room wasn't large but it would suffice for the time being. I dropped the light down the hole before making my way to the door. It opened easily and I started my way up three flights of stairs.
The office wasn't hard to find. First on the left was a more upscale type of office. The wall had been replaced by frosted windows, along with the same type of door. I tried the knob but it wouldn't budge. If only I came prepared for this. Oh wait, I did.
Sinking to my knees, I pulled out two metallic objects, one resembling a mini scalpel while the other… it's just a flat metal thing that bent at the end. It barely took a minute. Must be a new record.
I entered the room and quietly shut the door behind me. I knew no one else was in the building except for the night guard whom never left his place as he watched reruns of All My Children. But it doesn't hurt to be discrete.
I started at the desk, rummaging through drawers, doors, and unlocked another lock. When the desk didn't satisfy me, I made my way to the filing cabinet. I sighed at the sight that was literally a million papers, stacked in an order I didn't know. Starting at the bottom, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish this tonight. This couldn't be right. Something's wrong, I knew, but didn't know what to do about.
The nagging feeling didn't leave and it threatened to tear a hole at the base of my neck if I didn't stop scratching an itch that wasn't even there.
Running my hand through my hair for the fifteenth time and sighing for the thousandth time that night, I sat down on the floor, my knees just about to give out when the sound of complication emerged.
"Yes I have them right here."
I jerk my head up in surprise but stay in a half crouch. The monotone voice grew louder and I saw the tip of his feet as he walked by the frosted glass. My anger flared. There was not supposed to be anyone in the building. The Volturi spend millions and countless hours researching and paying people off to stay away and I'm reduced to this?
I pull out my new phone and dial, letting the Bluetooth connect to my earpiece. It only took one ring before someone picked up.
"Yes?"
"There's a civilian in the building," I whisper, listening for signs as to whether or not the man could hear me.
"Is he in the room with you?"
"Do you really think I would call if he was in the room with me?" I mentally curse my heightened tone. "You told me there wouldn't be anyone here." Jane sighed but I know she loves this.
"I wasn't aware."
"Not aware? Are you an amateur? This could compromise the whole situation."
"Do not speak to me that way! Someone must have changed their schedule." I wait for more but there is nothing.
"And?"
"And what?"
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"
"Take care of it."
"What?"
"Take care of it. It's a simple case of he was at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Your solution is to kill him."
"Sure. He's just one person. This is what you've trained for." Those last words nearly knocked me over but I couldn't care about that now.
"I want to talk to Aro."
"Aro is… indisposed at the moment. But I'll be sure to give him the update." I was about to say something else but then there was just a flat tone.
She hung up on me. I can't believe she hung up on me. That little bitch! She must have known about this. She did it on purpose. She needs me to fail to be the favorite. Like I would ever strive to be the favorite amongst psychopaths.
Fucking crazy people!
I didn't want things to come down to this but… I slowly stood up and unhooked my gun from its holster, keeping it low as I take quiet steps toward the door. Turning the knob, I pulled the mahogany and glass mixture towards me, barely breaking half an inch.
I see the man in flashes. He kept the office door open and I saw how he walked around the room, going to and from the desk in rapid movement, as if he was looking for something. He spoke quietly, too quiet for me to overhear. There was no frosted glass at his office. I kept my gun at my side and moved across the hall, pushing back against the wall, never missing a beat.
I straighten up, craning my neck for a sight of the man. I hear his mumbled speech. A file cabinet closes. The drawer of a desk opens. Papers are shuffled around. Shoes drag across the carpet. The shift of a cell phone as it's been flipped close.
The man comes closer to the door. I hear his every movement. I see the door open into the room. I retrieve my hand, keeping it bent at the elbow. The man comes out and I sling the but of the gun into his left eye.
The man turn away from me in pain and I put the gun to the back of his head. The man stops his groans and struggles.
"Close your eyes," I say in the first accent I can think of: Irish. I silently curse my unoriginality. The man tries to turn around but I press the gun more firmly against his head.
"Do it!"
"Okay! Okay." I see the muscles of his face clench together. "What do you want?" he says, breathing hard, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I want you to keep your fucking eyes shut."
"Why are you doing this?" I ignore his question.
"What are you doing here?" When he doesn't answer, I pull the safety. I feel him tense and cower.
"Please don't shoot me."
"Then answer my question."
"I needed to pick up some papers."
"Little early for that isn't it? Could have waited until morning." It was barely three a.m.
"I got a call."
"From who?"
"I don't know."
"Why would you come here at three in the morning for someone you don't even know?"
"He said-" I cock my head and narrow my eyes.
"Yes?"
"He said someone would break in tonight for some papers." My heart stop for two seconds before I even think about responding. "Obviously he was right." I glance down to the floor where scattered papers lay in disarray.
"Are those the papers?" He doesn't answer. "On the floor! Are those the papers?" He trembles.
"Yes!" I glance behind me at the office number and then to the one in front of me. 169 A and 169 B. Dammit Jane!
"Pick them up." The man shrunk to his knees and started collecting. I stayed standing, still holding the gun pointed at his head.
This was not what I had signed on for. Not that I signed on for any of this. I couldn't kill someone just like that. A civilian. There would be too much media coverage. Too many people wanting to know who killed John Doe and ruined a family hero or whatever bullshit the guy does on his days off.
He stood and held the documents back to me. I took the folder quickly, holding it up to see a label or anything scribbled on the front. I wasn't paying attention. Forever I would look at this as my first and only mistake.
The guy turned too fast for me to understand what he was doing. His eyes widened as he saw me and made for the gun. He grabbed my hand and shoved it into the wall. Something cracked and the gun fell to the floor. I brought up my leg and kicked him square in the chest. The guy goes down hard and I hear the breath being knocked out of him. I struggle to take a step back but he pushes one of his feet in between mine and I go down on my side. I try to brace myself with my right hand, only then realizing I can't move it without a sharp pain running through the bones.
I roll over to the other side and reach out my hand for the gun. The guy grabs my ankle and tries to pull me back. I kick, aiming for his head. Barely grazing the gun with my fingertips, I pull away from it, turn onto my back and push my right foot off the ground and hit the guy in his left temple. His head hits the wall with a hard thud. While he's confused, I turn again and make a move for the gun. I grab it with my left hand and roll onto my back. The guy had pushed himself off the floor and before I know it, a shot echoes through the building.
Blood splatter over my face. The guy lands on top of me and I struggle to get him off with just one hand. The body lies on the floor while a large red puddle starts to form around him. I take a breath before quickly getting up on my feet. I push the gun back into its holster and grab for the papers before they become spoiled by the blood.
I hurry out the same way I came, finding my way back to the basement. Once there, I stop to lean against a wall, trying to breathe correctly.
The adrenaline is gone but my hands still tremble and my heart is still beating erratically. I find this strange. It was self-defense. He could have killed me had he wanted to; could have grabbed the gun and shot me. I just threatened his life, it was a reasonable explanation.
But what's worse is of how I really feel. I thought I would be more afraid… that I would feel more. I'm not sad that guy is gone. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not filled with remorse. I don't have an urge to want to go back in time and undo what I just did.
I feel nothing. And that scares the shit out of me.
Before I drop into melancholy too far, I make my legs carry me a different path than which I came in. But this time, I walk past the steps until I find a ladder. I make my way up; glad I'm wearing some kind of gloves – even if they are fingerless.
I come out of the ground – literally. The road is empty. No cars or passerby. I move the metallic cinderblock back to its place before continuing down there road where the black sedan is waiting for me, keys resting just two inches into the exhaust pipe.
I never took my eyes off what was a head of me, until I reached the airport. I parked in the far back and sat still for a few seconds. Glancing up, I saw the blood still on my white porcelain face. I frantically searched the glove compartment until I found rose scented wipes. I didn't have time to care that I would smell like a hooker, my flight left in just over an hour.
Popping the trunk, I grabbed my already packed messenger bag and slung it over my left shoulder, careful not to touch anything with my right hand. It stung like a bitch but I forced myself not to stop to actually think about anything yet.
I retrieved the papers from the passenger side and shove them carefully into the bag before sitting down lightly on the trunk. Bending down, I took out the knife. The pressure relieved. I then pulled off the holster, along with the gun. I wipe them down thoroughly before taking both weapons and bringing them to the nearest drain at the side of the road. I sat on my knees, pushed the objects deep into the dark abyss before getting back to the car, grabbing the messenger bag, shutting the trunk, locking the car, throwing the keys into the nearest bush and I then walked inside.
oOo
The plane landed with a heavy bump but I barely felt it. I was exhausted. I hadn't been asleep since leaving L.A. But I still couldn't picture falling sleep any time soon.
There was a car waiting for me. I stopped at the sight before picking up two seconds later. There was only one reason a car would be waiting for me. Every other time I got home on my own.
The driver opened the door for me and I went inside without a word.
Sitting across from me was Aro. He was balancing a glass of scotch on his knee, talking quietly into a cell phone. Once he spotted me, he hung up and smiled my way.
"Isabella!" I almost winched. He only called me that when I'd done something wrong.
"Aro," I greeted in a quiet tone.
"What is the matter? You look dreadful."
"Just tired."
"You'll be home in no time. But first…" it took me a moment to fully comprehend what he was asking. I blinked several timed as I retrieved the papers from my bag. Handing them over, I felt a huge weight had been lifted from me.
Aro observed the folder and then placed it on the seat next to him. I looked out the window and found that we had already started moving. I never felt a thing.
"I heard about what happened from Jane," Aro said after a few minutes of silence. I turned to look at him. "Wires get crossed."
"Sure."
"As long as the situation has been taken care of, no harm done. I assume it's taken care of?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful." Aro smiled but I couldn't even pretend to care about upholding any sort of charade. "So…" I raised a brow. "How was Washington?"
"It was fine."
"Not too rainy, I hope."
"Not at all."
"Good. Are you still upset with me for making you go?"
"No."
"Wonderful. I wouldn't want to be on your bad side, Isabella." I nodded, though not actually listening. "There is another reason I came to get you myself tonight."
"Oh?"
"About you involvement with Edward Cullen." I didn't miss beat.
"There is no involvement."
"But you've known him for years, correct?"
"Yes."
"And I understand that your brother, Jasper, is quite a good friend of his too?"
"Yes."
"Then there is an involvement."
"What is it that you're asking of me?"
"Cullen industries are a posing threat to national and Volturi security."
"I'm not sure I see that."
"Did you not read the papers you were given."
"Yes."
"Then I fail to see what you fail to see."
"If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it this past week."
"This is far bigger than you, Isabella."
"Why? I'm one of Volturi," you will never know how painful it was to say that, "Hurt one of us, they hurt all of us, isn't that right?"
"Right?"
"And you want my honest opinion?"
"Of course."
"Reading everything, surveying the material, I fail to see any imminent threat. Cullen Industries is a mirrored image if Volturi in the basic aspects. This isn't about national threat. This is about who has the most power and that is the most pathetic reason to break out a war."
I spoke up to Aro. I hadn't done that since Russia… right before they gave me shock treatments as punishment. But I needed to know if I was completely dead inside. I couldn't be like them. I couldn't be this cold and heartless killer who would pull the trigger at anyone.
Aro sat back in his seat and made no move to maintain eye contact. Drinking the last of his scotch, he carefully sat the glass down and finally turned to face me.
"I've always found you to be crude, Isabella. You're loudmouthed, defiant and have been a pain in my ass ever since we found you in that bar. But you are nothing if not honest. And that is something I can admire, no matter the difference of opinions."
"Thank you?" I asked, more than told, in confusion.
"I won't always be happy with what you have to say but… I admire that you have what it takes to stand up for what you truly believe in even to someone in a position like me." The car stopped and I grabbed hold of my bag, ready to leave. "I'll see you when I see you, Bella." I nodded and stepped out. As soon as I shut the door, the car sped off at an alarming rate.
I walked inside quickly, making a beeline for the elevator, not even saying hello to the doorman, something I've always pride myself on doing before. I may on occasion kill a person but at least I still say hello to my doorman. Fuck, I need help.
Walking inside, I barely understood my own actions. I knew I dropped the keys but in hindsight, I don't understand how they could have ended up in the bowl on the first try. Another thing, apparently, I kicked my clothes off one by one before reaching the bedroom. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but it would have been nice to actually have changed into something and not fall asleep in only my panties.
The duffle bag was still there at the edge of the bed; zipper open but still packet. But for now, I sufficed in gently placing the bag on the floor before dropping onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes. It was like falling onto a cloud. The softness could not be described. The sheets felt unbelievably light – like silk – and I couldn't fathom the feeling when I slipped between them, my eyes closing immediately.
AN: Though shorter than previous chapter, I wrote this in just one day and actually felt okay with it when I finished. Another one on the way!