Agent 127

Trigger Warning: Death, violence, suicide, swearing, murder, abandonment

Clide was sitting on the swing set, waiting for me. I could see in his eyes that he hadn't failed this time. Slowly, I walked out of the trees, my feet didn't make a sound on the summer evening grass. Yet he knew I was there before I had gotten as close as fifty yards.

"It's done." He said quietly. I walked quicker now, making no attempt to hide my footsteps.

"That's what you said last time, we had to go back and check. He wasn’t dead yet." I said.

"I did it this time, watched the life fade out of his eyes. I watched as his screams got quiet. Threw him in the lake." My head turned towards him, my voice going deathly quiet. Rage and shock bubbled in me, he was one of our best Agents, he wouldn’t make such mistakes.

"The lake? Screams? What the hell, Clide, they’re going to see the blood. And screaming? There wasn’t supposed to be a sound, no evidence.” I spat.

I saw his face darken, his jaw set. “There wasn’t any blood.” He said quietly.

“Then why the screaming?” I demanded, my voice low.

“Because he was scared for his soul.”

“Clide, what did you do?” I asked. My voice was low and quiet. “You are going to explain to me the last three missions you completed, and exactly what happened on this one.” I snarled.

“Fine. Three missions ago, not including this one, I went to meet a man named Trace. He had information about us, so I found his home and killed him. One shot. He lived alone so it wasn’t hard. His dogs, I coordinated with Agent 271 to have them out of the house when I went in. Didn’t leave a fingerprint, didn’t leave a footprint, there was nothing to prove it was one of your agents. After he died I slipped away and left the gun in his hand.”

“Good, now the next one,” I said.

“A girl, nineteen years of age. Red hair, blue eyes, 5’4. Had to kill her because she escaped the clutches of Agent 319. It was poison in her drink, they never suspected anything due to the delayed effect.” He spoke as if he was reciting something from paper. “Successful of course, I watched her die that night. It was painless.”

“Next,” I said, I could still feel the anger directed at his miscommunication.

“Next, a group of two. The first target was a male, 54 years of age. The name was not told to me. He was about 5’6, and he was taken down to lure our real target, his wife, Amber Trint. She was an enemy of the boss, reason unknown. Cause of death, dart. Right to the neck, the dart was removed and the autopsy came back with the cause of death, ‘natural causes.’ They assumed that this was the case and never investigated further.” He gently swung the swing back and forth, back and forth. I traced it with my eyes. Waiting.

“So,” I said. “Your last case. You have proven to me that you know how to kill and disappear. So, why was your victim screaming? Why did you throw them in the lake?”

“I already told you, he was screaming because he was afraid for his soul. I threw him in the lake so that nobody would find him, you’re not-.” 

“No, you're not telling me something, you are going to recount every moment of this mission, every step you took, what it looked like. Everything.” My face hardened and I turned to look at him, in the dark, only his eyes shone. Their own violent shade of blue. “Do you understand Agent 127?” I demanded.

“Call me Clide.” He said, looking at my eyes challengingly. 

“I could kill you in four seconds, nobody would hear a thing. Now get your head out of your ass and tell me about the mission.” I snarled. 

“Fine. I like your hair, by the way, choppy and short looks nice on you. It matches your eyes.”

“You have three seconds to start the mission review.” I felt my nerves tense, nobody spoke to me like this. I was well aware that what he was doing was strictly out of character.

“I started at headquarters. They gave me everything I needed. You ordered this death to leave no evidence. I chose to kill him via injection. They gave me my belt, my communication, my uniform. I went to The Room. They had designed a paint for this mission, it was reflective. Since I was going at night, no moon, they wouldn’t have a problem with it reflecting light. Then they gave me an injection, inserted into my right arm. Tracker I believe, they never tell us.”

“Continue,” I said coldly.

“I went out, it was rather cold. I estimated it to be two degrees Celsius. He lived in the city, but he leaves for a night walk in the time between 5:43 and 6:01 PM. I recorded the time 5:57 for his departure time. The sun had already set. I let him get about half a mile ahead of me, then I started to follow him.”

“Half a miles awfully close,” I said.

“Hearing loss, he didn’t stand a chance,” Clide said without missing a beat. “I followed him for an hour before he came to a stop. In the forest is the grave of his daughter. Name, Jessica Williams. She died at seven. Cause, terminal cancer. He visits that spot in the forest every day because that's where she loved most. I gave him just enough time to leave her some flowers.”

“We don’t pay you to be sympathetic,” I said, I could feel disappointment in my stomach. He was supposed to do better.

“Yes, but it would seem like the man had done one more task before he went missing, it would seem just like he killed himself. Anyway, he put down the flowers and sat down. He sat on his knees as I crept up behind him. I leaped on top of him, I had to first knock him onto his back. He flailed but I gagged him before he could make a sound. He stopped moving, looked me in the eyes, and flipped me off. I put his hands under my knees, in standard position. After that, I injected the needle into his forehead. Didn’t even wince. I got off him as the drug made him go limp. I took off the gag, I was thinking he might want to say goodbye to his daughter. He screamed softly once. Then he choked, half sobbing. He muttered something, and then he died. Wasn’t the cleanest of kills but he’s dead.”

“Now, why the lake?” I demanded.

“Because his body was an eyesore, you know the rule. Never leave the dead on the resting. He was lying on his daughter's grave, so I brought him to the lake and threw him in. I added plenty of weight, tangled it up in his clothes. Sunk him. He’s gone now.”

“Agent 127, recite the top five rules from your code.”

“Rule one. Never be seen. Rule two. Never be heard. Rule three. Obey your head director, no matter the circumstance. Rule four. In no scenario, are you ever to reveal your identity, your assignment, or your payer in any scenario. Rule five. Do not ask questions.” He said calmly.

“Agent 127, what rules did you break today?” I asked icily. 

“Rules one, two, three, and rule five.” He said back to me. He looked up into my black eyes. I brushed back a loose strand of hair from my ponytail.

“Agent 127, why do you work for us?” I demanded. I started to feel wary. This was not like Clide, to act like this.

“To serve.” He said. Then I saw a shimmering tear trail down his face.

“Agent 127, what is the most important rule?” I asked, my voice a low hiss. 

“No tears.” He said. But another tear slipped down his face.

“Agent 127, you know what happens if you break these rules?”

“I get exiled, just like Agent 126.”

“Then, why are you crying?” I asked, my voice hardened and I felt my eyes shimmering in the light. I pierced him with my gaze.

“Because I’ve never killed a man before.” He said softly. 

“Agent 127, you’ve been on 367 missions before this one. You have killed men, children, women. What do you mean?”

“Agent 127 is dead, Claire.” The voice I was talking to shifted. A deeper voice.

In a split second, I was on my feet and running. I recognized that voice. The voice of the man who'd abandoned me. The voice of the man Agent 127 was sent to kill. Everything made sense now. He was the one man I could never kill.

I wasn’t fast enough. He caught up, and I felt his body land on mine as he tackled me to the ground. I flailed underneath his weight, punching, kicking, biting. I escaped his grasp quickly, I had a knife on his neck before he could take a breath. But he spoke scathingly even at the fingertips of death. I saw that his eyes were not blue, but green like mine.

“My daughter didn’t die of cancer at the age of seven, did she?” He asked me, his voice soft. Not kind, vicious. 

“I’ll kill you!” I cried, but my voice cracked. 

“No, you won’t.” He said, confident. 

Something inside me cracked, I felt the resolve, and the thirst for blood dissolved. In front of me was the man who had cradled me, hurt me, loved me, hated me. I stepped back, removing the knife from his neck. Then, I walked a few steps away, watching him. He stood up and watched me. 

“I want to love you again.” He said softly. In memory, I could feel the danger that had been him. The fear, the anger. Then Clide. The people he had hurt, my mother. I felt my eyes harden. Reciting the manual to myself I thought hard on one line. In a scenario where one is in danger of spilling a secret or in a dangerous situation, they are given one vial of poison to eliminate themselves from the equation.

“Go to hell.” I spat. And from my pocket, I took the vial of poison. 

As promised, there was no pain. Just blackness.