She was finally alone again. In the absence, familiar cravings began to nibble her insides. They begged to be sated. Her hands quivered, and her muscles tightened. Compulsively, she removed her cigarette case and placed a smoke between her dry lips. The lighter greeted her with a friendly click, sparking the end of her cigarette. She inhaled deeply as rich smoke filled her lungs. It was soothing and bitter like black coffee.
Starting to ease, the Spy stretched her arms and yawned gently. Moving over to her large suitcase, she wrapped her fingers around the supple leather of the handle, placed the case on her bed, snapped the fasteners open, and emptied the contents. She set her clothing aside in a neat pile while setting her other essentials into another pile. When her case had been cleared, she fiddled with an interior panel which accessed a secret compartment.
From the hidden section, she pulled out a two-way hand radio and a slim strip of paper with several digits printed on it. The woman inspected the radio thoroughly. It was free of tampering. Peering at the sheet, she set the frequency with the adjustment dials, extended the antenna, and pressed the CALL button. White noise buzzed through, interrupted with a few ticks, and then the gruff voice of a man answered. He was expecting her.
He inquired about the woman's trip, asking if she'd arrived on time and whether she'd been followed.
The Spy answered him bluntly; everything was going to plan. The man was pleased enough but cautioned her not to get cocky. Biting the inside of her cheek roughly, the woman rummaged through one of her piles as he patronized her and treated her as though she were some child. The only thing halting her from retorting was that she was being paid for this.
After his tirade, he railed himself and announced the start of the next phase.
She responded with a simple "Yes sir," as she located her ashtray. The Spy snuffed the embers and placed the tray on the wooden desk. It looked even uglier close up.
The man's voice stated that updates on the operation would be expected on a weekly basis and that the next frequency would be sent soon. He bid her farewell, and with a click, the call ended.
The Spy rolled her eyes as she put the radio away back into the compartment, shut the suitcase, and slid it under the bed. She set her clothing and essentials into the metal cabinet. Finally, everything was in its place. The woman took off her suit jacket and sunglasses and sighed heavily. She collapsed onto her bed like a ragdoll. The blanket was moth-eaten and abrasive; the mattress, rigid and cold. An anguished groan escaped her lips. Closing her eyes, she could almost remember warmth and contentment felt like and could nearly recall what it was to have substance, but those were just foolish dreams she clung to long ago. She chose to focus on the present instead.
Suddenly, a tremendously squalid slew of noise thundered from the hall that was accompanied by a horde of shouts and profanities. The woman's eyes snapped open, and her body shot straight up in shock. The boys were back.
The woman couldn't tell if they were all being murdered at once or if this was just how they actually sounded. Part of her hoped for the former; at least then the noise would stop and she could sleep. As it turned out, that was not the case because a few moments later, a volley of knocking came to her door.
Begrudgingly she got up, but not that the bed was comfy, far from it. The mattress was stiff, and the scratchy blankets had a few very suspicious looking stains. The Spy opened the door, not exactly sure what to expect.
Two men stood on her doorstep. The one on the left appeared to be fairly young, early twenties; he wore a red t-shirt and shorts. He was lanky and boyish with ruddy cheeks. His hair was short and sandy-brown, a near buzz cut on the sides and fuller on top. He was by far the loudest; his guffaws made that fact terribly plain. The second man was tall and muscular with a classically handsome face and mutton chops; he wore a red, long-sleeved shirt with matching pants. He had dark skin and an eye patch over his left eye. The taller was gulping heartily from a large bottle, and he smelled of liquor.
"Well, fancy that! We've got a lassie on the team!" The tall man said as he finished his swig. His voice was in resonant quality, and his Scottish accent was thick. "I was right, pay up laddie!"
When the boy was finally able to pick his jaw up, he glared up at his comrade. Grumbling, he tossed a roll of bills to the winner and crossed his arms "I hope ya choke on it."
"We heard that the team got a new spy today; thought we'd introduce ourselves." The taller man said "I'm the Demoman, and the poutin' runt is the Scout."
"My pleasure," the Spy said dryly.
Straightening up and focusing on the lady before him, the Scout cleared his throat "How ya doin' Hotlegs?" the boy leaned up against the doorframe and gave what he thought was a dazzling smile; he looked like an ostrich with dentures.
The woman gave him a scrutinizing glare.
"Where do yae get off talking to her like that? Yer right hand is goin' ta be jealous!"
"OH-HO! Cyclops is steppin' up to the plate! That one even stung a little. Just a little though, so don't let it get ta ya head." He shot at his friend.
The Spy pressed her fingertips to her temples and strongly considered slamming the door shut.
"Hey Girlie, I betcha can't guess how many push-ups I can do."
"With wee arms like yers?"
She stared off as their headache inducing brabble continued.
"OH, I get it, yer jealous I can tawk to classy lady like Hotlegs here, ain'tcha. This comin' from the guy who lives with his ma." The Scout retorted as he made vigorous movements with his hands.
"Yer still livin' with yer mum, ya bloody halfwit!" The Demoman quipped, "I live in a castle."
Narrowing her eyes, the Spy cleared her throat.
Taking notice of the woman's impatience, the Demoman said discerningly "Don't yae have somethin' elsewhere to attend to, boy?"
"Cuz Mommy and Daddy are havin' an adult conversation right now? No room for junior? Well, uh—fine, I have a hot date anyway," His attempt to save face was sort of endearing. "See ya tomorrow Hotlegs," The Scout said firing off another one of his devastating smiles.
The Scotsman and the Spy watched him scamper off down the hallway, both quiet for the moment.
"He's a good kid, but a bloody awful liar-" The Demoman commented. "That aside, I hope yae travelled well."
"Just peachy." Sarcasm bled from her lips.
"With that kind of attitude, yae'll love this place. I hope for yer sake that yer ready for yer first match tomorrow." The man crossed his arms, intrigued with the woman's cheek.
"How difficult can killing people be?"
"I only have one eye, so it can be surprisingly difficult sometimes."
The Spy chuckled aloud, and her forearms relaxed somewhat.
"To my point, a lass like yae is goin' to need help."
"I can fend for myself."
"I know, can tell by lookin' at yae," He said as he adjusted his footing. "But yae'll be happier if ya come with me. I'll show yae how matches work; I can't let yae get dominated on yer first day."
The woman was being paid to be a "team player," and the drunk man seemed very willing to help her as well. If anything, she could use him as a distraction should she need to flee.
"If you insist, I will require someone to aid me in hiding bodies most likely." The woman stated bluntly.
"I'm likin' yae already lass," He laughed "Yae remind me of me best friend."
The man had completely emptied his bottle, eyeing it despairingly.
Sighing, the Demoman said "Now, I've taken up enough of yer time, besides, I bet Heavy I'd drink him under the table down at the pub." He took a step backward and smiled menacingly, "Joke's on him, I'm only a little drunk." He gave a salute. "Good night, lassie," and with a loud belch, he strode away.
The Spy closed the door and quickly locked it. She had enough visitors for one day. Not only would she be dealing bosses and new coworkers, but a drunk would her guide for the next day. At least the Demoman seemed to be a friendly drunk. She shook her head, both amused and uncertain. Tomorrow would be…interesting, she thought to herself. She resolved to be especially careful the next day as she drifted off into an uneasy rest.