DISCLAIMER: Yes, I do not have rights over the Alias characters, I am just trying to express what I felt tickled my mind. I've been writing this story for ages, and now I'm fifteen. Ask, please, later. And also, I have no idea about anything that happens when readers do not appreciate what you write. So please, make it easy for this poor mind.
CHAPTER ONE
My handler stared at me. I knew what he meant; his eyes reflected both anger and dismay. The van went fast and I can't stop my body from swaying and slightly shaking; either because I was really wet or I did something wrong. I silently waited for his words, playing the badge in my hand.
"Hand me that," his Russian accent was still noticeable despite his fluent English. I reluctantly handed him the badge. I tried to think what's next. "This may not take credit on what you did. You still disobeyed."
Relieving, I felt. I never expected that kind of reaction from him. With grateful thoughts, I decided not to react.
"Debriefing would be initiated at the headquarters," he continued. He closed his eyes then shook his head. He looked at me. "All of you take some rest. You'll have a busy day tomorrow."
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2000 hours. The aircraft landed on the secret headquarters. As soon as we have reached the grounds, operatives immediately lined inside the vast hall. Disappointment ran through the lines on the faces of the old officers. I stood firm, unmoved. Debriefing would have started already but silence wrapped the room. Officers ran their eyes back and forth the line; I wanted to melt in shame. I was surprised when the assembly was requested to leave; except me. I looked at my handler, he gave no sign of disapproval; I followed as he walked right in.
He handed me papers and at first I wondered what the problem was. I realized, my actions- did it bother the KGB?
"Agent Ilinova," the director started. "We analyzed the situation yesterday at your perimeter and we found certain details that would need your consultation."
I was not surprised that they will take notice of what I did.
"Our satellite camera showed a vision of the same assassin that you tracked down. What can you tell about this assassin?"
I felt foolish. I was stammering to answer and I felt I was at the limelight. I let out a deep breath.
"I saw the assassin about the same time I noticed that Marius Pavlovich was down. I could include that it happened about three to five seconds. He stationed at another building; right at the facade of the colonel's building."
"Are you saying that he was there before we could move in?"
"I'm not sure, but I think not. The assassin must have had the skills worthy on this mission and he could have noticed our movement. At the situation, he could have hidden and I shouldn't have seen him. In fact, I don't think the assassin was male."
"So you already know," my commander's voice concluded.
I nodded. He does know already.
"The badge that we acquired from the female assassin provided us sufficient information to extract the incident. We would like to consider your effort for getting the badge," the director told me although he was not satisfied.
My eyes glinted. I thought of what if the assassin noticed I stole her badge.
"What surprised us is that the assassin kind of worked in her mission, the assassination, under the CIA," the word gave a different sound in the room. The CIA took the subject, a KGB officer, down. The meaning of this could be foreseen.
"The CIA?"
"Yes. Agent Mikaela Reyes," he pointed at the papers and I looked at it. "Born, March 18th, 1980. Russian nationality. Half Russian, half Filipino."
"We also found out that Miss Reyes is a recent FSB agent."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted with confusion. "Does this mean she is a double agent?"
"No," my commander replied calmly. "There was a report that the FSB was apparently collaborating with some of the international agencies. Agent Reyes, to the CIA, was one of those who were chosen to be sent to the foreign fields."
"We suspect that the FSB has something in its sleeves. They used their own agent to bring down one of our officers under the supervision of the CIA. This must be a step to one of their hidden missions against us. And that is our concern. How all of this connected to our subject is your mission. As a consequence of disobeying, we chose you instead of getting another agent."
"I can't deny that I disobeyed despite your orders," I frankly detested. "But I don't find your decision an appropriate punishment for what I did. I see this as a crucial situation and I don't want to take it as a payment for what we obviously haven't known."
"Clio, the agency has better reasons to choose you than what you can think of. You are assigned on this project. I don't want any objections. Does that make it clear to you now?" again, I thought I've had enough of making the worst of his temper. "Don't make me ask you twice."
I would have just stared at him and never answered. But, it is my call.
"Yes, sir. I'll report as soon I leave for the mission."
----------
Early in the morning, I arrived at the station for my leave to Los Angeles. The piercing cold numbed my cheeks. To be able not to be tracked down, we used a stealth plane instead of boarding one from the airport. From there, we knew how sensitive the mission was. We were not just going against the CIA; we were going against our own countrymen.
"Your mission is to track down Agent Mikaela Reyes. Take all the chances to have information," my commander shouted against the loud noise of the moving aircraft. "We already have her address and it will be given to you by an undercover receptionist at the Los Angeles Airport along with your own address."
"How far is my jump-off from Los Angeles?"
"About 12 hours," he shouted louder. "It's at the boarders of Washington. You'll meet your transporter there. He'll approach you. You'll be able to distinguish him through his appearance. We can't give you his picture."
"Why not?"
"The CIA might be able to track him down through misplacement. You might as well be captured. Otherwise, none of this would be significant."
"Well what does he look like?" the noise got louder.
"You'll just know," he last shouted. The operator between us gestured that we are closing at the jump off. "Do your best for this mission. Get close to her."
"I will," I lastly replied. As soon as the operator gestured to jump, I was off. The air was really thin and I can feel I'm a hundred kilometers or so above the grounds. The sun isn't shining yet so it was hard to notice where to land. I opened my chute and floated freely on the air.
A man approached me and I always needed to be ready. I swiftly pointed my gun at him suddenly realizing that he was my former commander at an over seas mission. He talked to me and introduced himself as again, my commander in this mission since the KGB can't handle me directly at L.A. He led me to the vehicle and we immediately rolled off.
It was late midday and we arrived at the Los Angeles airport. I got my baggages that were transported from Hong Kong so that my real origin won't be traced. I got the apartment location from the receptionist and hurried off as soon as the instructions were given.
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1500 hours. My subject's place is a house from the front of my apartment. My location is always meant to have a good view but in exchange, I wasn't given any communication device except for a biologically disintegrating transmitter imbedded in my left molar and the earpiece in my earrings. It technically transmits any kind of conversation I make. I was not even allowed to call near the apartment house because there was a certain agent in the CIA that is sharp in any kind of device. They call and inform me through the transmitter. They also placed a tracker at a certain muscle at my neck that has a very sensitive pressure point so that any kind of attempt in taking it off would end my life instantly.
Agent Reyes is very womanly. She appears more mature than her age. She is tall and maintains a good posture; featuring great combination of Filipino and Russian characteristics. Her eyes aren't that expressive, her eyebrows matches the symmetry of her jaw and cheeks. Watching and picking up hints in her daily routine did not feel boring. She jogs in the morning, eats at a cafeteria for lunch and gets home before nightfall. I can conclude a strict and contained life base on her activities. At night, she cooks for herself and does little exercise before she sleeps. She completely shuts the house before eleven.
Day 5. I received a package from the agency. They instructed me to start and I decided to make my first move. At four in the morning, I prepared for the make-up jog. I watched with my binoculars and toasted bread. The house's lights were opened at four-thirty. I observed movements inside the house.
Finally, she's on her casual dress and she stretched at the doors of her house. I timed for a five-minute interval then started to hunt for my subject. I found her not far from the residential area and it seemed that she volunteered to walk a dog. She likes animals, I jotted secretly. She played with the dog and I felt more like watching. I opened the water bottle then thought what to do; I bought a newspaper and walked innocently with the paper on my nose. Intentionally, I bumped again against her then started the real mission.
"I'm sorry," I looked carefully.
"It's alright," the first time I heard her voice wasn't that memorable; especially when you're intended to. I wasn't able to trace any Russian accent in her voice, proof that she had been trained well.
"You have a nice dog."
"Yeah, but she's not mine."
"Oh, what's her name?" the play started. The agent fell to the trap.
We had talked a lot and joined the lunch together. First step in process, I radioed in.
"So where do you work?" she asked uncomfortably. She really seemed unused to socializing. Strict and contained, I assured, but not self-absorbed.
"At a bank in Hong Kong, one of the Asian branches in the lead. It started early in Eurasia."
"I see," she replied with self-investigation. I'm sure now that she speculated that I am an undercover agent. "On specifically what type of working are you involved?"
I smiled at her question and she seemed to guess that I know why she asked.
"Foreign matters," I took my last sip. "I'm having my vacation here... along with some business works, of course. It's not boring though, if you'll ask."
She smiled back. I made her feel that I'm secured with her. But I still need distance.
"And you work for?"
"The government," she answered honestly. I forced a startled look. "Not boring, too. I work on both foreign and local matters."
"I think that's nice."
"Yes," she agreed. She paused to think what to say next.
"You look familiar, you know," my voice tested. I looked the other way then pretended to think. "Were you there at the night when a Russian nationality was killed?"
In a sentence, I betrayed the whole reason why I kept on secret.
"About a week ago. Your picture... I have your badge."
She was more unpredictable to look at than to feel with. The tension never got to her eyes; she stared still. She stopped the fork between her fingers. At first, I thought she'd shoot me. She held back the sudden surprise I initiated.
"Why do you ask?"
"I had been looking for you."
"You were?" her voice grew firm. "And you found me... Where do you live?"
----------
I handed her the badge. The agency instructed me to make any possible move to gain her compassion and eventually, eliminate the badge from our possession. This was the only way I can think of. She might have suspected more but I trust in my agency's responsible actions.
"You had my badge for a week. How did you get it?"
"You dropped it," I made-up again. I need to get through. Your tough, I thought. But I can see through you. You trust more on the unseen matters. "I was hurrying towards the incident from an apartment I planned to move in. I accidentally bumped you. I know it's very important to you. I just looked at your picture, that's all."
She stared at me then at the badge.
"I appreciate your willingness to return my badge. But it confuses me," she took the badge. "Why didn't you stay at the apartment? Were you terrified?"
"No," I replied. My ability to analyze one's personality through her appearance works all the time. She expected I'll agree but I didn't. I needed to make her suspicious so I can prove that I'm clean. The more things she doesn't know, the more persevering she hunts for answers. "The place is too small. Practically, I can't stay there and make business transactions."
"I might have asked things harshly," she tried to apologize. "It's really important."
"I understand."
"It was nice meeting you. I have to go," she stepped back. I forced to smile and nodded. Then she turned away.
"She left," I radioed in then I hurried inside. My commander, Agent Aleksandr Liun, was already inside and he used the backdoor. He stays every time I leave for checking everything. Though they don't treat events as acts of treason, they make sure that everything was in place.
"You did good."
"Thanks," I sighed. He handed me the papers for briefing. I unintentionally looked at him and his face tightened by the knowledge that I was looking. He was just a year older than I am but he looks older.
"We have the new records of the mission," my handler radioed back from Russia. "Agent Liun would do the explanation."
"From the last five days that you stayed, we extracted information from those you have given. We've dealt with further investigation and were able to track her down. With this, the unit was able to identify her CIA field commander. His name is Jonathan Bristow."
The name sounded familiar but I had no time to think about anything else. The transmission interrupted.
"The next step is to know Jonathan Bristow. Use Reyes."
I listened carefully; we looked like lunatics if anyone would have seen us. We were talking to a third party that no one sees. I didn't like the word 'use'. I thought I'd just need to consider it as an alternative.
"Do you have an address?" I asked.
"Yes, but it isn't sufficient for completely extracting the headquarters. The CIA is secretly stationed underground an unidentified building," Liun explained.
"I'll track it down."
"You'll have to start tomorrow. Gain access," he seemed to have something else to say but he changed his mind. He cleared his throat. "Nikolas-"
"Clio," the transmission interrupted. "Agent Liun suggested to stay at your apartment for the night. He needs to work on some data in your laptop."
I looked back at him and he felt I was measuring him.
"These files are for your own records."
"I'm not complaining. I take things professionally," I cleared. Though it was only eight in the evening, I felt too tired. "Sir, are there anymore instructions? I need to rest."
The last transmission was helpful. They told me that Liun's stay was doubly purposed. It didn't matter on me why so I slept.
----------
0600 hours. Suspicious movements woke me up and I reached for my gun. I looked around the room then loaded my pistol.
"Agent Ilinova," Liun's voice informed. "I'm leaving now."
"Wait," I hurried to get something else to wear. "I'll lead you at the door. It's part of the plan."
I opened my door and he was standing distant enough from me. I would have smiled at him; he seemed so disturbed. I walked past him and reached for the knob when he spoke.
"Agent Reyes is apparently preparing to leave. You must follow her now."
"I will," I assured. He put his glasses on then started to walk away. I made a mock wave then noticed Reyes as he left. She was boarding her car and I immediately changed and followed.
She stopped at a cafe. I parked far enough to see; I realized that she was there to meet her commander. Jonathan Bristow, I thought. He arrived as soon as Agent Reyes sat. I radioed that Reyes was meeting Jonathan Bristow. I thought that they might be discussing my presence. They didn't stay long at the café. They left with different vehicles and at different roads. I had to choose now whom to follow.
The black Expedition drove freely not noticing that I was following him. Jonathan Bristow is a fair man. His countenance is of true professional meanings and his moves are experienced. I had now the time to think how his name came to my mind last night. The name Bristow rings a bell, that's it- but why? Why can't I remember? Suddenly, I lost track of the car. I was so annoyed at the fact that I didn't pay attention. I stopped then tried to radio that I lost Agent Bristow but I was too ashamed. I failed at my first attempt and it never happened to me before. I hunched on the steering wheel then tried to ease my temper; I decided to try again then leave the area completely if I find nothing.
----------
My report gave silence to Liun and my handler, Agent Molotov. I confessed that I was thinking of something that's why I lost the vehicle but I made sure that he didn't notice me.
"We traced that the CIA had already searched your files," he interrupted. He handed me another paper. "We confirmed that they found information only about your banking profession. We also made some changes with your birth certificate."
"We see that you're doing your job well, Clio," my commander said. "But you don't need to take things immediately."
"I'll make sure it won't happen again."
"I have to leave," Liun said. I stood to lead him out of the house again. He looked back as he went to his car. He signed to me that someone was approaching and noticed that it was Agent Reyes.
Before I can think of anything to say, Agent Reyes approached with something else in her expression.
"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow? I mean, are you free tomorrow?"
Her words gave different meanings. It was like she was on something or just teasing. She referred to Liun, I know. I can't help but smile at the scene.
"Well, of course. Your treat?"
"I'll cook for dinner. Can you come at six?
A-- Dinner, anyone? Come along and we'll brief you of what's happening. After all, everything that has been written was supposedly exclusive, something I wrote sequential with the fiction an important person wrote. It must have been lame, I don't know, really. Don't sue, I beg. Don't sue. This has been itself even before I discovered this website. I'll prepare pasta for all of you!
If you wondered how I came to this set of characters, you might want to find out the answers inside another fiction with which this fic is co-produced. Check out mika's works, uploading soon.