Agent 34

Chapter 1

Everly's POV

Alpha Agency.

I've never known any agent who actually refers to it as that. Usually, we all just say "the agency" because we all know what we're talking about. It's never needed to be explained to each other. Sometimes, on rare occasions, you'll hear it referred to as Double A. Personally, I thought that was stupid. It sounded like a battery.

Not that the original name was any better. It made us sound like a cult of werewolf worshippers.

Of course, my opinion on the name of the agency didn't matter. The decision for the name rested with our current Chief, Richard Kessler, aka Zero.

Address him as anything other than Chief or Zero, and it was rumored you'd end up in an unmarked grave. I say rumored because on occasion-usually when I felt he deserved to be taken down a peg or two-I called him by the shorter, nickname version of his first name.

So far as I could tell, I was still alive and unburied. As of two hours ago, however, I was wanting to bury him in an unmarked grave.

Sure, I'd end up being hunted down for the rest of my life, but it would be worth it.

I'm the best agent the agency has. That's not me boasting. That's a fact. A fact Zero frequently takes full advantage of. What I mean when I say this, is that Zero enjoys sending me on suicide missions. Now I know if I died on one of these missions he'd actually be pretty upset because he'd end up losing not only his best agent but also his only solo agent.

Zero likes his teams. You have to be on a team to be in the agency, no exceptions. Until the day he learned just how well I played with others. He finally realized I was better off on my own. That never stopped him from occasionally sending me on missions with other teams though, but I always ended up running the show.

That's not to say I have never had a team of my own. I had, once upon a time. We had been the best team in the agency, composed of the best agents. Which was also why when we fell, we fell hard. There were seven of us, and two betrayed us. In the end, only three survived. Myself, my best friend, and one of the traitors. He was currently locked away at the agency, never to see the light of day again.

Even though Zero valued me as an agent-Lord knew he couldn't stand me as a person-that didn't stop him from sending me on those suicide missions. Secretly I thought he wished me dead, but he knew if I were dead it would only create more problems for him.

Saying that Zero and I didn't see eye to eye was a vast understatement. We couldn't stand each other. In the beginning, I actually looked up to him. Respected him. Until I realized he could be just as twisted as the monsters he sent me off to defeat.

Lately, he has been a lot better. He was still intolerable, make no mistake, but he had gotten better at seeing his agents as people rather than just toy soldiers made to march when he told them.

I liked to think I had something to do with his change of attitude, but actually, it had everything to do with his son, who had a nice long "chat" with Zero about how things were going to be from now on. It may have also helped that I was good friends with his son and had played a huge part in opening his eyes to the sins of his father.

But if you've never heard the saying that something is too good to be true, well, this was a prime example. He may have adjusted his attitude for the better-most of the time-but that attitude adjustment does not seem to apply to me.

Probably because I had a habit of disobeying orders, making things as difficult as possible for him, and I didn't adhere to his five cardinal rules.

In my defense, those rules were made to be broken. I often believed he established those rules specifically to try and keep me under control. He denied this, of course.

Now, as I said before, lately he'd been pretty good about treating his agents as people rather than soldiers, but it didn't always extend to me. Sometimes yes, but definitely not the last time I went and spoke with him.

Probably that was because I'd done something to piss him off earlier in the day. Not that it was entirely my fault. I mean really, he should have known how it would turn out when he tried to get me to give a "demonstration" of the kind of training the agency gives us. This demonstration was to be performed in front of several government officials who continuously fund our agency.

Now, this doesn't sound so bad, and maybe if I had been in a better mood I would have obliged like an obedient agent. Seeing as how I had just gotten back from nearly getting killed after he sent me on yet another suicide mission, the only demonstration I was in the mood for was showing how to toss your chief on his ass 101.

Suffice to say, when making a choice like that, one should really fully explore and consider the consequences of tossing your boss on his ass.

He decided to take it out on me by cashing in on a specific type of mission he wanted me to do, and I've been stuck in the jungles of South America ever since.

There are three different categories of missions an agent can be sent on. Retrieval, Rescue, or Takedown.

Retrieval missions are when an item needs to be found and brought back to the agency or destroyed. Usually, the object is a type of weapon or some form of information. Occasionally the item can be a person. Those missions are always a pain in the ass.

Rescue missions are pretty self-explanatory. Someone needs rescuing, and we're sent in to get them if need be. Usually, the only people we rescue are powerful and influential people who've been taken for one reason or another, or other agents that need help.

Takedown missions are the kinds of missions one goes on when a person needs to be taken out. Sometimes it's more than just one person, sometimes it's an entire group or city. Either way, we're sent in to do the job.

What I didn't know until after I'd been a solo agent for a long while, was that Zero had decided to award me my own category of missions. Missions that were too high risk for an entire team to handle. They usually needed to be handled with stealth, and if there were too many agents around it could pose a problem. But the biggest problem with these missions was the fact that I would have to go so far undercover, the line between good and evil would blur. The problem was that if I got caught by anyone, Zero would hang me out to dry.

To explain in the simplest terms what that means is that if I ever got caught while I was masquerading as the bad guy, that's what I would stay. Zero would not claim me as one of his agents and I would be forever labeled as a threat, a terrorist, and God knows what else. He would destroy the mission file as if it never existed and eventually, if he thought he could get away with it, he would send another team of agents to take me out, covering his tracks entirely.

As if all that isn't bad enough, I made the unfortunate deal with him to do two of these missions. I had been waiting to see when he was going to send me on them, but he hadn't done it. Until I made the decision to toss him on his ass for a demonstration.

Suddenly he wasn't all that happy with me, and the next thing I knew I was on a plane to South America. That was five months ago.

That's the other thing about these missions, they aren't short. They aren't quick. And there's no way to try and get them finished faster without giving yourself away and getting killed. Getting killed being the best-case scenario. Otherwise, you'd be on the run from the people you gave yourself away to and the agency.

I also couldn't have contact with anyone. And I mean anyone. I left my phone at my house along with anything that could be used to contact me. Probably I was worrying some people since Zero was unlikely to have told anyone where I was, but it was safer for them and me if they had no idea what I was doing.

So there I was in the middle of the South American jungle, with no help, no contacts, no weapons, and about a hundred mercenaries on my tail.

In my defense, I did complete the mission. The objective was to get close enough to the guy in charge of a gang of rebels and get some highly secretive information he'd been hiding. It took forever to gain his trust and learn the location.

It took no time at all to break his trust, steal the disk with the information, and slit his throat.

Okay. So, the slitting his throat part was not supposed to be part of the mission. But it made me feel a whole lot better to know that that scumbag was no longer living. Unfortunately, getting out of the camp had not been as easy as I had thought.

Running through the hot jungle filled with leopards and poisonous creatures seemed like a better alternative to facing down a hundred fully armed mercenaries.

I leapt over a fallen log and continued to run full speed, my breathing labored and sweat dripped down my face. I could hear them crashing through the brush behind me, and while they sounded further away than they did ten minutes ago, they were still way too close.

I needed to lose them before I got to the helicopter pad.

Not that I had a particular plan once I got there. Usually, they kept a helicopter stationed at the pad, but sometimes it was off picking up shipments of weapons or other supplies. It had better be there when I showed up, otherwise, I would have to find another way out of here and I didn't know if Zero would help me or not.

Yes, I got caught. Yes, I completed the mission. No, I did not leave the guy alive. It was a toss-up on whether or not he'd be willing to help me.

I cursed as I caught my foot on a tree root and hit the ground, pain shooting up my arms as I braced my fall with my hands.

I could hear them shouting behind me. I could hear their footsteps gaining, but I didn't push myself back to my feet. Instead, I rolled into the brush on my right, my body completely covered by the overgrown plants and watched between leaves as the pounding of their footsteps increased until they were practically on top of me.

I watched as they continued to run by. Watched as their black books pounded by and I waited until I could only hear them far in the distance.

Just as I was about to roll out of my hiding place and push back to my feet, another set of boots stepped into my line of sight and stopped right beside my hiding place.

I didn't move, I let my muscles tense in anticipation, and I waited to see what he was going to do.

He turned and walked back the way he came, stopping at the tree root I'd tripped over and I mentally cursed as he knelt down next to it and began examining it as if it were a masterpiece.

One of the damn trackers. Just my luck that he was the only one who decided to stop.

He came walking back over, stopping once again right next to where I was lying in the brush and dirt. I watched as he unclipped the radio from his belt and then I stopped watching. No way he was calling them all back here to look for me. I braced my weight on my arms and swung my legs out quickly.

He let out a startled shout as his legs were swept out from under him and he hit the ground on his back. I was already moving.

The first thought on my mind was the radio still clutched in his hand. My hand grabbed hold of his wrist and twisted until the radio fell from his hand and onto the floor. His free hand swung out in an effort to strike me. I dodged and rolled away from him, taking the radio with me. I clipped it to the back of my belt all the while my eyes never left him.

He jumped to his feet and advanced on me. I stayed low, dodging the punches he was throwing. He struck out once more and this time, I had gotten myself into a position to fight back.

He stepped forward as he threw his punch and instead of stepping back, I stepped toward him, my foot going behind his. I ducked under his outstretched arm and threw my elbow forward into the side of his ribcage, but I wasn't finished. I reached my free hand up and around, grabbing hold of the back of his shirt collar and pulling down at the same time I threw my leg back, effectively knocking him off his feet again. He fell hard as I continued to pull on his shirt collar as he fell, throwing him down hard onto the floor.

His head bounced off the floor and before he could do anything else, I stepped forward, removing the knife in a sheath strapped to his leg and plunged it through his chest.

He stared down at it with wide eyes and then back up at me as I stood over him. Then, his head fell back and his body went limp.

I pulled the knife from his chest and wiped it on my pant leg before sliding it into the empty sheath strapped to my leg. "Thanks for the weapon," I said as I turned and took off, continuing on to the helicopter pad.

It took longer than I would have liked to reach the helicopter pad seeing as how I had to dodge several armed men still looking through the jungle for me. Unfortunately, I couldn't catch a break, because as soon as I made it to the helicopter pad, it was so very clearly, empty. Not a helicopter in sight.

I swore and ran a hand through my hair as I tried to think about whatever other options I had. Except, I didn't have other options. I wasn't equipped to go hiking through the jungle for over a week before I ran into any other encampment, village, or city. The helicopter was the only way out of here.

The radio on my belt suddenly crackled to life I listened to one mercenary telling the rest that they'd found the body of the tracker I'd killed . . . and then saying that I was likely going for the helicopter pad.

I silenced the radio and ran back into the cover of the trees, crouching low as footsteps began speeding toward me.

The helicopter was my only choice, but unfortunately, I didn't think I was going to be able to wait around for it to show up without getting killed.

The mercenaries began popping into view on the other side of the helicopter pad and just as I turned to disappear back into the jungle, I heard the telltale whirring of a helicopter's blades.

I listened as it continued to get closer and noticed the mercenaries listening as well. Likely they knew, that if I was nearby, I'd be making a run for the helicopter. And they were right. Problem was, I was pretty sure I couldn't take the helicopter, not against at least twenty of the mercenaries (that I could see) and just one knife for a weapon.

With that in mind, I stayed low in my hiding place, tucked away in all the shrub a couple of yards away from the edge of the helicopter pad. I listened as the helicopter came closer and finally I was able to see it as it flew over the treetops above me, sending a gust of wind that nearly exposed me.

I surveyed as it started to lower toward the helicopter pad. The mercenaries swarmed around, keeping an eye out for me, making sure I couldn't get to the helicopter.

Then, much to my surprise as well as the mercenaries, the side door of the helicopter swung open before it'd even landed and a barrage of bullets sprayed up the helicopter pad, aimed at the mercenaries.

The mercenaries began shooting back, but their guns, compared to the machine gun mounted in the back of the helicopter, were nothing. I watched as they all went down, one by one. Of course, with all that shooting there was no doubt many more on the way.

"Hey, Everly!" A familiar voice shouted. "You there?"

I stepped out of my hiding place and walked up to the helicopter, which was now actually on the ground, but the blades were still spinning.

I crossed my arms over my chest and stared in amusement at the girl with neon green hair and sunglasses leaning casually against the machine gun.

"Well hurry up before more of those damn mosquitos show up," She said, a devilish smile on her face.

I shook my head, bent down, and ran up to the side door of the helicopter.

A hand was held out to me as soon as I was close enough. "Need a hand?" He asked me, a smile very similar to hers on his face as his curly blond hair fell into his face.

I smiled and took his hand, allowing him to pull into the helicopter. "Your timing is impeccable."

"I know," They both chorused.