Reason to Live

Chapter 1: Ripe Pickings

March 8th,
Rome's National Hospital
1100 hrs

(Rico's P.O.V)

A new operative…? Wonder who the lucky patient is? I hope it isn't someone like Elsa.

That's what got in my mind as I accompany Jean and a stranger when we tour Rome's National Hospital. After being woken by the usual sunrays this morning, Jean asked me to get ready. We'll be escorting a new handler as he picks a partner. I don't really mind escort missions, but what bothers me is the partner who this handler would pick. Hope it isn't someone quite like Elsa….or someone more serious than Claes.

The word of a new Handler spreads quickly through out the rest of us, operatives. We couldn't help thinking of a new operative would be joining us soon. Thoughts and suggestion starts to come up within us. We're hoping that someone wouldn't be like Elsa who's too attached with her handler, causing their deaths or someone who's too serious like Claes. We started giving numerous amount of what characteristics the operative would be. Henrietta suggested it would be someone older than her or as old as her. I suggested someone who's a more friendly type who's easy to cope with. Triela, however, came with a unique suggestion…

"I hope it's a boy." She said smiling with glee "You know, we've been having female operatives lately; why not a boy sometime?"

Most of us are starting to think that she's been reading too many of Claes' hidden romance novels, or she has needed much more attention. There are a total of 6 of us in the agency currently. There's Henrietta who's an Italian and is 10 years old, there's Angelica; though not present most of the time, she's currently eleven years old. She's Italian by the way. Then there's Claes. She's serious…way serious after she lost her handler. Using her glasses all the time, she stays in the agency most of the time while we're out on missions. She originated from Germany, and is currently thirteen years old. There's also Triela, the eldest of us all. She's fourteen years old, and originated from Germany. She's the leader, the one we can look up to. And lastly, there's me. My name's Rico, currently twelve. I'm not sure where I originated from, or where the rest of girls originated from since we just make assumptions, but I'm positive I originated from France. I don't know why, but I happen to know fluent French when I woke up in the agency. Well, that wouldn't matter. All I can say right now is Triela's gonna' have her wish come true…

The new handler's name is Koch Bauer, a 36 year old German who is once part of the Bundeswehr. He resigns from it after he failed saving his family from a terrorist attack; losing two of his men in the process. He says that it's a lack of leadership and confidence. It was then that he visited Italy and decided to work for the SWA…which he thought would be good since he'll have to deal with kids. He never heard about the 'assassination' or the 'fire arms' part.

"You made your pick yet, Mr. Bauer?" Ask Jean as he's getting a little impatient waiting for him to pick form the list of child patients

"…Does it really have to be a kid?" he asks, pausing from browse the list. "Jean?"

"Yes; according to the engineers; 'Due to both the physical and brainwashing procedures. They work better on younger patients'."

He nods for a second and grunted before continuing browsing the list. Though it did take some time…one of the names eventually caught his interest. Jean shook his head and suggested he pick a different patient; a girl if possible. However, Koch insisted and asks us if we could take a look at the patient's condition. With almost no choice, he complies.

We walk down a hall, guided by the doctor who's currently in charge of this patient. I don't quite understand what they're talking about, but what I do understand is the patient himself is in terrible condition. Not to mention, the doctors are unable to find any relatives of this patient. As the door opens, we're able to take a glimpse inside; the patient lies, wrapped in bandages the color of red. At first glimpse, I notice a familiar face gazing into the emptiness.

…Did I mention it was a he?

Yes. The patient Koch wanted to look at is the boy who got himself involved in the recent battle at Piazza di Spagna. The thought on how lucky this boy is crosses my mind as José's thought of saving this boy isn't in vain after all! He is getting himself adopted! The doctor told us he received severe burns and lost his arm and leg due to a bombing incident in Piazza di Spagna. THAT is a hoax. A total lie created by the Agency to feed the press who kept on asking for news. Eventually, he did get himself picked by Koch as his Junior Operative. Thus he will go some changes; I mean, mentally following brainwashing and physical procedures what so ever Jean mentioned.

Someone older than Triela…

We usually look up to Triela and our handlers at some point, but does this mean we have to look up to the new boy too?

Those thought roams my head as we get into the car with the patient. However, those thoughts continually occupy me as the days went by.

April 5th,
Social Welfare Agency, Firing Range
1200 hrs

(Triela's P.O.V)

I always thought the agency never changes and that everything stays the same. The same morning, the same Handler, the same friends, I love it. It's been a month since the new boy entered here. It's been three days since he got out of bed and started a new life. For once, I feel as the younger ones do after I learn of the boy's current age; a year older than me, 15 years of age. Not to mention, his adaptation…is fast. Well, I did wished for a boy to came here as an operative, but I never knew it will came true! He's turning slightly better than the rest of us! The echo from his shot using the Karabineer 98K three feet away from me attracted my attention for a short period to look at his progress. And guess what? Right on the bulls eye!

"Nice shot Frederick, now try it with the semi-auto Sniper rifle."

"Err…no thanks Koch…I like this Bolt-Action Rifle you gave me better."

Frederick; that's the new name his handler gave him; a name from his lost son. A nice name, actually. It suits him fine. Averagely built, brown hair, blue eyes, and a sharp intuition; that's how I would describe him, though I haven't seen him in action before. How did I come up with that suggestion? After I watched him going through the obstacle course, then there's no need for further questions. For a new operative, he nearly beat Henrietta's record on going through the area.

"Alright…we'll move on to something automatic now. We'll continue rifle training next time we're at the range. Now move on to the live fire obstacle course."

"Yes sir."

But of course, there's one other thing that describes him: his stubbornness and carelessness…especially in the field. As I watch him runs through the course, he did fairly well and exceeded my abilities. His swiftness on clearing a whole 'room' full of 'terrorists' is unquestionably quicker than the rest of us; although his actions were rather erratic and wild. It is then that I notice when he move into the last room when his weapon goes…

'CLICK'

That's when the time stops and his record-breaking speed is canceled. That's right; he focuses on his targets and goals too much that he even forgets the remaining rounds in his weapon! Did he even count his rounds? I don't think so! And so, like usual, I approach him who's currently cursing since he failed for the dozen time to break the record and taps his shoulder for a little 'congratulations'. He kinda' deserves it…

"Damn it! That was close," He said cursing under his lip "…almost outran Henrietta's time!"

"Nice try Frederick; though you might do better with weapons of a high-capacity magazine." I said giving him a suggestion I came up after his performance. He sighs in reply

"Thanks Triela…though I kind of like the MP-40 better because of its fire rate and low recoil." Examining his weapon which I just noticed, I lift my eyebrow in surprise

"Frederick…that gun you're holding…where'd you get that?" I ask, quite curious.

Different from the rest of us, Frederick's weapons are …so I say…outdated. The weapons aren't something the Agency provided such as the P90 that Henrietta mostly gets her hands on, or the usual H&K pistols or SIGs editions we carry often. His weapons are something that's best to be put in an auction or Historical Museum. Makes me wonder how and why he had the likes to those weapons…not to compare with my shotgun, the M1897 'Trench Gun' which has lasted way before my handler even came to this world.

"Koch gave me his collection of old weapons. Its nice to use something like this."

"But Frederick, that thing is OUTDATED!"

"But it kills right?"

And that, ladies and gentlemen is his stubbornness. Another thing about Frederick is his tactics. Frederick is one of those 'Run-n-Gun' types as I mentioned before, where he charges into corners carelessly. Firing his gun rapidly without stopping, hitting any board that pops up in his line of sight; including hostage boards which we aren't suppose to. He's different from us; we usually take precautions in every corner. Rather, he charges in carelessly, abiding and almost completely ignoring Koch, his handler. That results in another long lecture for Frederick. However, it makes him one of the most deadly operative around when there is no sign of hostages as he can take them down without giving them a single chance to return fire.

After our short conversation, it is my turn to go through the obstacle course. He did challenged me on how will I perform with my shotgun. Oh heck, he can go and see how I perform because I've been in service with the Agency longer than he is! So I decided to show him a little of seniority, which gives him little laugh because Hillshire called me moments later. Frederick's face then reflected what he's saying towards me: 'How's that for seniority?'

"Hey Triela…"

"Yeah?" I turn around once more, seeing Frederick giggle as he appears to be examining my main weapon.

"Why in the world would you put a bayonet on your shotgun when you've fully acquired full control at close-quarter battles?"

"Shut up Frederick!" I answer rather jokingly. He laughs all the way to the firing range where Koch is waiting.

Frederick seems to be adapting to the situation around here really quick. Noticing he's the only boy around (not including the handlers); he started to open up more to us. He's probably seeking a friend…probably. He's nice, though he can be quite a blockhead. Overall, he's a good guy. The only boy in the Agency, the OLDEST one too, maybe things do change after all. I don't know why, but somehow…there's something different in Frederick; something that's new. Somehow he's different from the handler's we usually look up to.

Is it his tactics? Who knows?

Is it his stubbornness? Maybe..?

Is it his liberal acts? Could be…?

All I know, he isn't too attached to his handler unlike the rest of us, where we fully dependant on ours.

Heaven knows what is different.