There are three rules to staying an assassin at Covert Operatives: one, your parents must be deceased, two, your murder contracts must remain confidential, and three, you must be under the age of eighteen.
I slammed the door shut while my eyes scanned the room for an object to use.
"I know you're in there. I know who sent you after me!"
"Oh yeah?" My gaze flickered from the empty baby bassinet to the picture books on the floor. I resisted the urge to groan. Of all the rooms in this mansion, I picked the nursery?
"You can't kill me! The cops are coming." The voice on the other side of the door wavered even as I felt him trying to beat down the door on the other side. "You're only a kid!"
ZING.
A bullet whizzed past my neck, breaking a small hole in the door. I cringed. A chunk of hair fell from the bullet’s impact, the right side of my ponytail splayed on the floor. I'd just had a haircut!
"You are so paying for that." Enough was enough. I reloaded my gun and pushed back the door enough to buy a few more seconds of time. "No one calls me a kid."
"Yeah, well I—"
BANG.
I gazed down at the man dead in front of me. One hand rested on the doorknob, the other on the trigger of my gun. I frowned at the wound. It wasn't right on the heart. Darn, I wanted a clean shot.
The sound of scurrying boots up the stairs caught my attention. No time to worry about the aim now. My finger rested on the trigger, ready to shoot in self-defense. I lifted up the gun and pointed it in front of me.
A woman reached the top of the stairs and shrieked when she saw the man on the floor. She screamed even louder when she saw my gun, as if her screams would ward me away.
I sighed. "Sorry about this."
She started backing into a corner as I approached her. I dealt a powerful blow to one of the pressure points on her neck with just the right amount of pressure not to kill her. Immediately, her body curled up and her lips pressed shut as she crumpled to the floor.
I pointed my gun to the direction I wanted to go. I passed by the woman, who was now laying on the floor, unconscious and blissful. I winced. I hated when the family showed up. It made the entire mission messier. Still, a job was a job.
The chip in my ear started to buzz. I pressed on it with my free hand, still pointing the gun with my other hand on the way out. No one else was inside, but a CO agent could never be too careful.
"Coast is clear." A pause. "You're getting slow, Janey."
I pressed the earpiece to respond. "Yeah? Says the one who almost got us killed in Cairo last week."
I kicked open the door. My eyes scanned from side to side, checking to make sure I was safe. My finger rested on the trigger.
Within moments, I found myself pressed to the floor.
Adrian smiled above me while his hands pinned mine behind my back. So not safe with a gun in my hand.
"See what I mean? Getting slow." His hands drifted to my hips, and his mouth curved upward into an easy smirk above my lips.
I pulled away, leaving both of us gasping for breath. "Not fair," I grumbled. "You told me it was clear."
He took his hands off my wrists and stepped back. I stood up from the porch of the house.
"We can't just make out during every mission."
Adrian raised an eyebrow at me. "You didn't object during the last one."
I tried to stop a blush from creeping into my cheeks at the memory. "Well, it’s not happening again. It's dangerous. We have to stay alert."
He gestured to the silence of the night. The house was in the middle of nowhere, and not a single sound could be heard except crickets chirping from somewhere in the grass. "We're safe, Jane. I don't know if we're getting older or the assignments are getting easier."
I shivered in the cold night air and placed my gun back in its holster. A blue light blinked at the end of the plain, beckoning Adrian and me to follow. "Let's get out of here. No use sticking around."
Adrian took off his leather jacket and draped it over my shoulders. My hand still rested on my gun as my eyes struggled to see in the darkness. Huddled together, we walked toward the light.
I stopped. My heart thundered in my ears. I inclined my head to the left, and he nodded. No words were needed to interpret the signal.
Adrian broke off into a run toward the light as police sirens wailed in the air. Cars sped toward him, swerving around the edges of the suburban road.
A police motorcycle pulled up against one of the cars. Adrian ran forward and kicked off the policeman. He didn’t wait to hear the man’s cries of protest before jumping onto the motorcycle and zooming around back to me.
He held out his hand for me to grab. I gripped it and propelled my body forward onto the motorcycle. Steadying myself, I pulled my arms around his waist as he drove toward the light and away from the police.
Cars chased after us, nearly catching up to his breakneck speed. A BANG and a bullet whipped by my head. I kept my head low while I clung tighter to Adrian. The motorcycle’s speed threatened to pull me off the seat and send me hurtling off the bike.
“A little help here?” He yelled over the rev of the engine.
“Got it!” After a quick glance over my shoulder, I pulled out my gun and aimed it at the driver's seat. The window smashed as the bullet hit its target with perfect precision, right as the car skidded into the other police vehicle.
Adrian swore under his breath as another bullet hit his side mirror. He revved up the speed as our motorcycle closed in on the blue beacon.
I elbowed him. "Don't swear.”
He laughed. "Just take care of them!”
I gritted my teeth as he swerved through another sharp turn in the road. My fingers almost slipped from his waist. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and reached for the trigger.
I aimed the gun again and shot the remaining drivers of the police cars. It was like taking candy from a baby. The cars skidded into each other, each driver as incapable of dodging a bullet as the other. One of the cars burst into flames as two others smashed into it. The deafening roar of an explosion behind us caused Adrian to swear again.
"Gone!" I nearly screamed over the sound of the motorcycle speeding down the road. He seemed unfazed by the speed at which we were still going.
"They're gone. Slow down!" I gripped Adrian tighter as the wind whipped my hair in random directions. "You're going to get us killed."
He didn't, though. We raced down the road, the blue light coming closer and closer. He dodged each oncoming car with a sudden swerve and each group of pedestrians with a swift flick of his wrist on the steering. I managed to hold on for dear life. All these assassination missions, and I’m going to die by my boyfriend's driving – great.
But Adrian did manage to dodge all the other cars and people on the streets, because we pulled up to the blinking light within the next minute. He hopped off, gripped my hand, and pulled me after him.
I broke free from his hold and ran toward the chain-link fence. I jumped it in two steps. The crunch of Adrian’s boots hitting the metal fence fell right behind me.
I glanced back over at our safety beacon. All Covert Operatives missions provided a blue light agents could follow to get back to headquarters. But there was a time limit for each assignment. The blue light at the end of the alley grew dimmer and dimmer with each blink. We ran down toward the blue light of safety, the blue light of home, before it disappeared.
I pressed on the turquoise circle against the brick wall at the end of the alley. Adrian followed, and his fingerprint against the wall triggered the scanner to appear. I stepped toward it. The laser inspected my eye, and I stepped back so he could do the same. After a whir of approval, the door handle appeared.
We were in.
I pulled open the door and gestured for Adrian to enter. "Gentlemen first," I said in an exaggerated tone of condescension.
Adrian furrowed his brows at me, annoyed. Still, he stepped inside the white room and I followed him, then closed the door behind me.
As soon as we entered, his hand slipped into mine. The nerve. I swallowed hard and yanked my hand back. I could already envision his scowl. "Not here," I seethed.
Anonymous men in lab coats walked up to Adrian and I for the routine after-mission inspection. The huge staff of scientists at Covert Operatives made recognizing each doctor by name impossible. Before they took us our separate ways, Adrian's breath tickled my ear. "Meet me at the dock."
I gulped as I walked away from him. I didn't need to glance back and ask him what he planned to do. The memory of our last dock make-out session was still fresh in my mind.
One of the doctors guided me into a white room. He took my pulse and checked my reflexes, but all I could think about was Adrian. How did this boy expect us to keep meeting without getting caught? Weren't there security cameras on the dock? How had no one found out about us yet? Why didn’t I just stop making out with him already?
The routine check-up was over in no time, leaving me to sit on the patient exam bed while I waited for the results to come back. That’s odd. The results never took long. Footsteps approached the door, but this time it wasn't a doctor.
"Jane Lu." A woman in a tight black pantsuit entered the room. She nodded to me, then sat down at the chair next to my bed.
I'd never seen her before, but there were too many adults working behind the scenes of CO to know them all by name. The executives seemed just as anonymous to the operatives as the scientists who checked up on us after every mission.
Pantsuit Lady pursed her lips before speaking. The hallowed spaces of her cheeks elongated as she spoke. "Covert Operatives already knows about your secret."
My palms became sweaty. They know about Adrian. What were the punishments for CO agents having a relationship anyway? Were they going to kick me out? I bit my lip, questions on the tip of my tongue. There go the dock make-out sessions now.
"What are you talking about?" All right, Jane, play it cool. Play it cool. Maybe you forgot to reload your gun last time before you returned it. I mean, Marty was pretty strict with those rules about putting at least one bullet in the gun for the next assassin. I didn't see the reason why, since last year he'd been polishing one of the guns and accidentally shot off his big toe. He still had the habit of wearing flip-flops around the office for some reason. You’d think a man would learn.
"Agent Lu? Agent Lu, are you listening?" the woman pressed. Her expectant wide eyes locked with mine.
"Of course, totally." I took my mind off Marty's lack of toe and back to the conversation at hand. Maybe if I denied hooking up with Adrian, he would do the same and neither of us would get in trouble. There we go. Problem solved. More make-outs at the dock guaranteed.
"I understand you attempt to keep CO from knowing something, but we were already informed about this vital piece of information. We know it is of great importance to you.”
“Importance?” Yikes. Maybe Adrian had told CO about us. How could he? Getting us both in trouble… I clenched my fist, crinkling the exam bed tissue around me. No more make-out sessions for him. My lips were sealed.
"Your first foster parents told us."
My jaw went slack. Um, since when did Adrian call up our first foster home and tell the owners about how we were hooking up? Talk about awkward.
"How does my foster home know about who I'm making out with?"
Pantsuit Lady drew back. Her long face stretched further as she raised her brows to the tops of her forehead. “Excuse me?”
Oh no. I let out a nervous laugh. Rewind, rewind. "I mean... did I say making out with? Ha, ha." I rubbed the back of my neck in an offhand motion. "I meant to say my health records! I thought you were here to give me the results of my check-up."
She blinked twice.
I faked a cough.
Pantsuit seemed flushed, but believed my explanation. She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I talked to the doctor. All results are good; all vitals are normal." She cleared her throat. "CO knows your birthday is September sixth, not December eighth.”
"Oh, that's what this is about?" I leaned my elbows against my knees and rested my chin in my palms. Relief washed over me. "I know the year I was born. I don't know my real birthday, like month and day wise. I didn't know it was important."
The lady smoothed her skirt and pulled her mouth into a tight line. It wasn't even a smile; it was a look which said, "You are so stupid girl; how are you an elite assassin at CO?"
Instead of admitting this, she sighed, "Your last mission is going to come earlier than expected, so CO has readjusted your schedule to fit the mission before September sixth.”
"What do you mean 'readjusted’? Why would my schedule change?" My fall schedule revolved around attending concerts with Emma in LA and book signings with Lucy in New York City. It was all planned. There was no way I was missing out on those.
"Your contract is ending on September sixth." Pantsuit gave me another tight-lipped stare worthy of that game show host for Weakest Link. "Then you are eighteen. Your time as an employee of CO can end."
"Wait, I stop killing people September sixth?"
The woman winced at the word "kill." Jeez, for people working in the world's leading contract killer organization, all the adults working for CO sure were touchy. "The correct term is ‘closing contracts,’ and yes, you can choose to end your contract on September sixth. You know the rule: all employees must be under the age of eighteen..."
"...unless we continue to work as executives instead of assassins."
Pantsuit beamed at my ability to finish her sentence. "Yes, and everyone at CO hopes sincerely you will consider applying for an executive position. The applications may be competitive, but the rewards are—"
"No thanks." I shook my head. Wow, I'd forgotten about my contract ending. The whole Adrian mess had been on my mind, and all the missions, and finally seeing my favorite band in concert… I guess I hadn't thought about my eighteenth birthday in a while. "I'm not staying with CO."
The woman sighed again, but nodded with acceptance. "Completely understandable. Most do not stay, and CO wishes you the best of luck in the world. As you know, you will have the option of selecting a college from CO's list. CO will pay your full expenses for the next four years. You will be given an annual pension of fifty thousand for the next ten years after you graduate from college. A more detailed packet of instructions..." Pantsuit rifled through her bag and brought out a folder. "...is inside."
After pressing the folder into my hands, she gave me a curt nod and opened the door to leave. But she paused in the doorway. Pantsuit inclined her head in my direction. "One more matter. I would stay with Covert Operatives if I were you." Her lips pressed tightly together, all expression devoid from her face. "The world out there is dangerous. Covert Operatives will keep you employed, paid, and safe. There is no downside to staying with Covert Operatives."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "Don't respond now. Think about it.”
The door closed behind her with a click. Her heels tapped on worn linoleum tiles as she walked down the hallway.
I glanced at the folder in my hands and blanched. The cover showed a sun with a smiley face on it, and rainbows covered the rest of the folder. The title screamed "PLANNING YOUR RETIREMENT" in big, bold Times New Roman font.
Jeez, you'd think the world's largest assassin corporation could've managed at least a classy retirement folder.
****
"You can't leave, Janey."
Adrian's hands rested on my shoulders while he pressed a kiss to my neck. I bit back a moan and tried to keep my control over the conversation. Not surprisingly, the golden boy's mouth proved rather distracting in this endeavor.
"I already told you; my mind is made up." I closed my eyes and let my body melt against his. How one person could make me feel so wonderful, I would never understand.
“Made up about what?” Adrian's mouth pulled away from my neck and my whole body tensed. It was like alarms rung in my head, a warning to keep this boy close.
“I’m going to leave Covert Operatives after my contract is complete. It’s simple.” I shrugged. “I’ll serve the last mission with you, talk to CO executives about my college placement, and pursue a degree in English.”
“You almost sound like you’re making sense.”
Excuse me? “What about my plan doesn’t make sense?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Adrian deadpanned. He looked past me at the water before us. “Maybe the part where you leave CO?"
"I want to go to college. I want to travel, Adrian.”
He held me closer. Against my will, my nerves hummed in agreement at the touch. As he sat on the dock with me cradled in his lap, I scowled at the water in front of us. It was calm and peaceful - almost too much so.
"We do travel." Adrian chuckled. "And who needs college? That’s one way to get a job. Being an entry-level executive at CO pays fifty thousand a year, Janey." His lips pecked a kiss against my cheek, as if I was being cute and adorable and possessed absolutely no idea what I was talking about.
I inclined my head to look him in the eye. "Behind the muzzle of a gun? No thank you.”
He met my gaze this time, searching mine for an explanation. “No one said anything about…”
“Operative or executive, they’re both still assassins.” I pulled my hair to one side. “I want something safer.”
“We are safe.” Adrian stiffened. It was like an attack against CO was an attack against him. “We’re at prep school for some of the year. We’re like anyone else.”
“And now what? Now we’ve graduated and school’s over. CO is our life now.” I bit my lip. “You know I never wanted to stay.”
“I know; I know. You want to be a writer.”
“And I’ve already told you this before.” I swallowed. “We are not having this argument again. You are not going to ask me about…”
"What about us?"
I leaned back against him, as if my body heat could answer his questions. Regret filled the pit of my stomach. I should have never started this conversation. "We can still stay together. You know, I'll be in college and you'll be here."
"No, you're staying here."
I bit the inside of my cheek. Who did he think he was? I whipped my head around to glare at him. "You can't tell me what to do after the contract is over. If I want to leave, you can't stop me."
Adrian pulled away and threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Remember being at the foster home? You were there longer than I was. But CO adopted us, took us in, provided us an education, gave us food and clothes and everything we have." He pointed at me, his voice raised. "How can you be so ungrateful?"
I gasped. "I am not ungrateful! I appreciate what CO gave me, but I don't want to be a part of it anymore." I searched his eyes for a flicker of understanding. "Out of everyone, I thought you would understand.”
“I’m trying. You’re not making it easy.”
“Don't you get it? I want a life of safety. I want to be like normal people and get married and settle down and have a family..."
Adrian scoffed. "You want to be average."
"Excuse me?"
"You want to be average!" His tone was laced with frustration. Creases in his forehead appeared as he challenged me. "What, you're going to be some struggling writer married to some poverty-level plumber and pop out a few kids? Is that what you want?”
I clenched my teeth. "I can't believe you."
"That's your problem! You're going to get bored. Do you hear me? Bored. Small town life isn't enough for you. You're like me." Adrian strode over to me and leaned forward. I could smell the scent of his aftershave as it filled my senses. Damn him, still somehow smelling wonderful even as he caused my blood to boil. Stupid pheromones.
"You want excitement; you want adventure. It’s not like what we’re doing is wrong.”
“We kill people.”
“Sure, it’s bad to go into a grocery store and start shooting everyone. But we don’t do that; we’re paid to close a contract. It’s not random shootings. These targets are a part of our work. It’s our job.”
“This isn’t about the contracts.” I frowned. “We’ve already had this argument before. You know I don’t want to stay with CO for the rest of my life. You can’t tell me what I want.”
“What about what I want?”
“You can do what you want!” My voice cracked.
“I want you to stay here with me, Janey." He lowered his voice. "We can lead CO together."
What the—
I pushed away from him and widened my eyes in disbelief. Surely he wasn’t serious. All pheromones were forgotten as his words sunk in. "You want to take over CO?"
Adrian shrugged. "Maybe. Why not?" He laughed. For the first time, the sound frightened me. "We're the best assassins at CO right now. We make the best team. Think of what it would be like if we led CO together."
I shook my head. What was he thinking? “Who are you?”
“What?”
“When did you decide what I was going to do with my future?”
“It’s what’s best, Jane.”
"What’s best for you, maybe. Is that all you care about—power and control?"
Panic flickered across Adrian's face, like he realized for the first time he could lose me. Good, I thought. It's about time he learned.
"Guess what? You can't control me. You don't have power over me."
“This isn’t about power.”
“This is all about power! This is about you and rising the ranks of CO.”
A warning filled his voice. “Jane, listen to me.”
“I’ve tried! Clearly you aren’t listening to me.” I brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ve had enough, Adrian.”
“Enough of what?”
“You.”
“You don’t mean it.”
"I do." I crossed my arms over my chest as adrenaline coursed through my veins. "If you can't respect what I want to achieve in life..."
"It's not about not respecting you; I respect you more than anyone else. You're my best friend."
I winced at his words. Yet his tone sounded like gravel. For all the sweetness of his speech, he refused to let any reaction show.
"But you're making the wrong decision."
I steeled myself to meet his own emotionless gaze. Red shadows clouded my vision and my blood boiled at his confidence. "It's over. We're over."
I marched away on my heels, the patent leather stilettos I'd put on just for him clipping against the wooden slats of the dock. To think I'd worn this dress for him too. I pulled down the tight black material. Well, he wasn't getting any of this anymore!
I was done with Adrian King. I was through. I was an independent woman who didn't let anyone stand in my way.
****
One migraine pill, two trashy romance novels, three romantic comedies, four tissue boxes, and thirty spoons of peanut butter later, I was still bawling my eyes out.
"It's... it's not fair!" I yelled. "How could he do this to me?"
Lucy patted my back. "But lovely, you broke up with him. Remember?"
I shot her a warning look. "You're supposed to be sympathizing with me, not blaming me."
"Lucy's not blaming anyone." Emma passed me the tissue box. I took a tissue and blew my nose with all the noise of an elephant. Emma made a face at the sound, but continued. "You need to talk to Adrian and tell him you didn't mean it."
"But I did." I scowled. "He won't accept what I want."
"Adrian is just looking out for you." Lucy’s sugar-coated tone allowed my heart to lift. “He’s probably just as sad about this break-up as you are.”
Emma shrugged. "Well, I agree with him. You're stupid for not staying with CO."
"Emma!" Lucy shot Emma a shocked look. "We mustn't call Jane stupid."
I brushed a tear away from my cheek. "Do you think I'm being stupid too, Lucy?"
Lucy pursed her fuchsia-covered lips. She stopped patting my back and avoided eye contact, choosing to look at my shaggy red carpet instead. "Well, I wouldn't use such a terrible term as stupid..."
"She's saying you need to stay with CO." Emma cut in. "I don't understand it either. Are you crazy? CO's given us everything. They took us in when we were starving, they paid for our education, and they make sure we're..."
"Safe and secure. Adrian already told me." I reached for another chocolate bar, but Emma swatted my arm.
"Processed sugars are not going to solve your problems,” she snapped. “Why aren't you listening to him?”
"CO cares about us." Lucy fiddled with one of her pigtails. "Emma and I want to stay. Adrian wants to stay." Her eyes shone with childlike enthusiasm. "We can all be happy together! Your life will be perfect."
I shook my head. "I'm not getting back with Adrian. That's over. I don't care about him anymore."
Emma huffed. "That’s not what this room says.”
I glared.
Emma met my eyes with an exasperated look, the same kind Adrian had given me two nights ago. "You and him have been best friends since you met in a foster home at like, what, five years old? You two have been hooking up for the past year. And you're a mess right now. You're obviously not over him.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Says who?”
"Says whoever is going to clean this up.” Emma gestured to the endless mass of tissues in front of me. "I doubt you ever will be."
Lucy giggled. "We've all seen the way he looks at you during training."
"I'm not trying to make a move on your man or anything." Emma picked up her nail file and started buffing her nails. "But if I were you, I wouldn't let a boy that good-looking get away.”
"Okay, all right, we get it.” I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "Maybe he and I were meant to go our separate ways. Nothing lasts forever."
Lucy shot me a skeptical look. To my relief, she changed the topic anyway. "When's your next mission?"
I glanced down at the color-coded schedule I'd received yesterday. "July ninth."
"Oh no! I thought we were going to a concert that day.”
I grimaced. "I know. But it’s only a few more missions."
Then I'll be done with Covert Operatives forever.
****
Adrian waited for me inside Marty's Workshop.
I wasn't sure why any of us called it Marty's Workshop. Technically it was the artillery room, where all the weapons for our assignments were stored and returned once we completed a mission. There were definitely other keepers of the artillery besides Marty. He was the guy we all knew, though. He was the last one to rat you out for bringing back a bloody gun and the first one to congratulate you on a closed contract.
I still remembered my first artillery training practice session with Marty. I was six at the time, when all CO's started with a BB gun and aimed at giant inflatable targets. It was a game, at least at the time. Adrian and I thought it was so much fun. But Marty kept us in line. His was the stern face who reminded us we were training for a job, not how to use a toy.
As I stepped inside the workshop, Adrian gave me that weird nod guys do to acknowledge someone. Anyone. Even their ex-girlfriend.
I attempted the casual nod in return, but my chin went way higher than necessary. My cheeks flushed. Why couldn’t I just feel normal around him already?
"Hey." He leaned against the wall, one hand slung casually in his jean pocket and the other gripping a gun. I tried to ignore the beating in my chest. He wore the black shirt he knew I loved on him so much, and the dark-wash jeans weren't helping me think he was any less attractive. Forget him and his remembering what I liked on him.
"Good evening."
"How are you?"
"Fine, thanks." I rapped on the window of Marty's office, hoping Marty came outside faster than usual for once. I could cut the awkwardness in the air with a knife. The sooner this mission was over, the better. “You?"
"Good.”
"Good."
Silence. Where on earth was Marty?
"Can we cut it out for a minute?"
I spun my head at Adrian's outburst. His eyes narrowed at me. The gun clenched tight in his hand, emphasizing the muscles in his arms. Wow, I forgot how hot he is when he’s angry... I shook my head. Wrong train of thought, Jane.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I fired back.
He grabbed my arm. "We're not over. Having one fight doesn't mean this is over.” His voice wavered.
Adrian King showing weakness? Unheard of.
"Oh, but we are." I threw his arm off me, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction at how I caused such a physical reaction from him. "Unless you can understand my decision to leave CO, there's nothing to discuss."
"We can't be together if you leave CO."
"So I'm supposed to give up my education and career plans to appease you?"
“That’s not what I’m—"
The door to Marty's office swung open, and the familiar pudgy man with the handlebar mustache stepped outside. Marty’s face lit up when he saw me.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite operative. I hope you'll consider joining CO as an executive."
I twisted my mouth. The bitter irony of hearing his wish as I stood right next to Adrian hit me. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to tell Marty my plans for leaving. There was something about Marty which always reminded me of a grandfather. I'd grown up with his instruction and guidance on how to kill.
Adrian stood stoic as Marty handed me my gun, my favorite semiautomatic handgun. It fit in my hand like a glove; it was perfect. I thanked Marty, then spun around to face Adrian.
He stood still as I walked past him, and he followed me without a word as we left Marty's Workshop. We walked over to the runway where a plane waited to take us to Pennsylvania. We'd been briefed on the location, some alley where CO knew the target was hiding. Apparently the client had tipped off the target. It didn't matter, of course.
Adrian and I never missed a shot.
After the plane landed on a small runway strip in Haverford, we walked to the garage. A sleek black car waited for us. The driver took a look at us and studied our identification badges as part of the procedure. He checked something off on his clipboard and handed Adrian and I photographs of our target.
I opened my car door first and turned to face the window immediately after I sat down. As soon as Adrian sat beside me, the car sped off into the night.
"You can't walk away. Leaving CO will be the biggest mistake of your life.”
"I tried to switch partners." My voice was clipped even as my heart fluttered. I tried to ignore the heightened awareness I felt around him. No need for more conversation. No more Adrian and Jane.
His voice hardened. "You don't mean that."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're the one always trying to tell me what to do and what to believe. I can think for myself, thanks." I stared back out the window, away from Adrian King's clear blue eyes and sandy hair. Thank goodness for the privacy of the black soundproof screen. The dark divider between the driver and the passengers provided me some degree of relief. There was no point in letting others in CO know about the relationship between Adrian and me.
The rest of the ride to the drop-off point was silent. The hum of the car engine filled the air, all the noise I wanted or needed to hear in the presence of my ex-boyfriend.
I stepped out of the car as soon as it stopped. The door from Adrian's end clicked shut, and the car sped off into the night.
Okay, Jane, focus on your footsteps. Don't make much noise, the target is on the run, listen up for a sound of the target, don't think about how he is three feet away from you...
"Are you still ignoring me?"
I bristled at Adrian's question. A few more missions, just a few more, and I would never have to deal with or think about him again.
I pointed my gun at the dark alley. Adrian understood the signal at once and leaned against the back of the brick wall in front of the passage. Neither of us made a sound as we guarded the entrance.
Police sirens whirred in the distance. I shook my head. Did these people think the police could save them?
Apparently this idiot did. He charged out through the alley at the sound of the sirens, unaware Adrian and I stood between him and his rescue. But as he pulled out of the shadows, another person grabbed Adrian. The figure stood holding a gun to my partner’s head.
I shot at the man who held Adrian. As he ducked, I glimpsed the white “FBI” emblazoned on his vest.
The target retreated to hide in the alley, and everything in me screamed to locate and eliminate him. Shoot him, then get out. It would be so easy. But Adrian - what about Adrian?
My stomach flip-flopped as I stared straight in front of me. In the darkness of the alley, I could barely make out the details of Adrian’s face. He didn't want to die any more than I did. As much as he tried to convince me, he wasn’t invincible.
"Run!" Adrian cried. The whites in his eyes shone in the darkness of the alley. "Just hit the target and run!"
"Shoot the man in the alley and I shoot your partner." The FBI guy's hand shook even as he pressed the barrel of his gun to Adrian's head. A hardened agent wouldn’t have been so nervous, but the tone of his voice betrayed his rookie status on the job. I would've laughed if I wasn't so afraid all his shaking would set off the trigger. "CIA found out about you guys months ago. Covert Operatives."
The police sirens blared closer to us. Two blocks, maybe three. I swallowed in my indecision. I couldn't move if Adrian's life was on the line.
"I got 'em on Forty-fifth and Broadway, do you copy?" Young FBI guy held his walkie-talkie with one hand and his gun with the other. The once-nervous agent seemed to gain control over the situation again, and the crackle of his communication device assured him of his importance. His hold on the gun steadied. He spat at the ground, turning his attention from alerting the police back to Adrian and I. "Teenagers. Don't even know what you're doing."
"Don't call her a kid!" Before I knew what was happening, Adrian lunged for the gun with one hand while his other fist landed a punch in the agent’s solar plexus. The man grunted and doubled over, retaining his grip on the pistol. They struggled for control, free hands grasping and punching and clawing. But this guy was FBI. Adrian was CO. Another swift punch fell below the jaw and the FBI agent dropped to the ground, unconscious.
"There's going to be others." Adrian's eyes darted around us, checking for this guy's backup. Satisfied for the moment, he pulled out his gun and rested it against the man's temple in case he woke up. "Hit the target and we're out."
He nodded at me, and I walked into the alley.
What kind of city didn't have street lights? I could barely see. In fact, I had no idea where the target was. My gun was loaded, but my vision sucked.
There was no tell-tale whimpering or panicked rush past me. I pressed my lips together, desperate to hear a sound and use my inner sonar to hit the target. The police sirens made it worse. I wasn't afraid of cops, but with the sirens so loud I couldn't detect where my target was.
There. Footsteps. I raised my gun, the sonar in my head working within moments to pinpoint the location. The pad of my finger leaned against the trigger, ready to close the contract…
I gasped. Cold metal sliced through my flesh. Pain. Blinding, brilliant, all-consuming pain. My hands flew to the wound, as if the pressure from my palms was enough to stop the bleeding.
There was a scurry past me, but I still made the shot. The body fell; the contract was closed. Searing pain. My hands traced the outline of a knife lodged into my abdomen. Why did the sirens sound so close? I staggered forward.
The world in front of me felt covered in film. Everything was hazier; the sounds were jumbled. I thought I heard Adrian cry my name, but was it him? I couldn't be sure. Sirens filled my eardrums, drowning out the yells trying to get my attention.
The night combined with blue and red neon lights, and there was the sound of footsteps, hard hitting footsteps. Colors jumbled in front of my vision, blending together like some rainbow covered by dark shadows.
I collapsed to the ground.