v. how to be an agent

v. HOW TO BE AN AGENT

The building was thirty stories tall. Staring at it from the ground floor, the skyscraper above us seemed impossibly daunting. Ace, and the rest of the CIA for that matter expected us to climb up back into our penthouse on the top floor.

Ropes were set up for us, a courtesy for such an inconvertible task. Sun glared off the glassy sides of the skyscraper, making the apex absolutely blinding—doing nothing to help our apprehension.

Ace set the timer for thirty minutes. One minute for each floor.

"This is insane, Blackwell," Skye spits. There was a dark intensity in her eyes that was only justified by a fear of death.

Ace responds with a half-hearted shrug. "As a member of this special ops team, you have to be willing to be prepared for anything. Now start climbing. You have thirty minutes."

The others reluctantly wrap harnesses around themselves and begin climbing, leaving only Ace and me on the ground, in a stalemate.

"Do you really expect for me to climb a building?" I fume. There were things that I simply refused to do. Climbing 300 feet into the air and risk plummeting to my death was one of those said things, and I'd like to think that was a pretty reasonable line to draw.

Ace says in earnest, "You're on this team for a reason."

"I'm a teenager, I'm a programmer, I'm just a regular person. You can't expect me to complete all these feats like a trained agent." Dread rips away at me. I turn around from him, denying him the opportunity to see my weakness.

Ace's voice becomes gentle. "I know you can do this, I picked you for this team, and I'm never wrong."

I find myself creaking an annoyed but small smile. Even in life and death situations, Ace's incessant narcissism shined through.

Then he starts to scale the building like a hyperactive spiderman on shrooms. Seriously, this man could climb.

All the others are already a third of the way up the skyscraper, with Xavier in the lead. From this distance, they looked like little jelly beans. I make a mental note to not tell the dangerous criminals that I thought they looked like adorable jelly beans.

The beeping of my stopwatch shakes me from my mental tangent. Now the question is, how do I scale this thing, and fast? Time was my worst enemy. There were only twenty-five minutes left on the clock.

With my weak arms and bare minimum training, there would be no way for me to successfully pull myself up even one floor. (I found that out during gym class.)

And that's when I saw the answer—an empty, dirty, and rusty window washing carriage.

Technically, it wasn't empty. There were some supplies on the carriage and people putting on harnesses, so it was clear they were getting ready use it. Promptly, I sneak into the carriage and start to pull myself up as fast as possible.

Was this technically stealing? Yes.

Was I exploiting a loophole in the assessment? Yes.

But at this point, did I care? No.

The owners of the carriage quickly realize that a crazy teenage girl stole their contraption and start to shout curses at me. They incited a seed of guilt, which was immediately replaced by the fact that my plan was actually working. Using the carriage and it's several attached pulleys was a thousand times easier than pulling myself up with a single pulley system.

To be honest, I expected my plan to end in disaster.

Pretty soon, I was on par with everyone else, even going faster than most. Ace was the only person ahead of me, and I was gaining on him.

"Run Banana Bread!" I taunt.

Ace glances back at me throws a smirk, and scales even faster. Within the next fifty seconds, he climbs the last three floors and wins. I hated losing.

Grimacing, the director stood waiting in the middle of our penthouse with his clipboard. The soft sound of his fingers drumming against the counter filled the hollow room. He and I made uncomfortable eye contact; I was embarrassed while he was clearly irritated that a college student had circumvented his parameters.

"Seriously, Miss Snow?" The director frowns. "Don't try to pull this stunt again—or you will be kicked out."

My eyes peer down, imitating shame. The gesture didn't really mean anything, I was still going to elude all rules necessary to make sure I stayed out of prison.

The director then looks to Ace. "Keep your recruit in line." Ace's expression is unreadable when he nods. I can't tell if he's impressed with me or annoyed, though the best case scenario is a mix of both.

Xavier, Skye, and Chase all arrive at the penthouse about five minutes later. Sweat glistens off of their bodies, and their chests all rise rapidly to compensate for strenuous exercise.

Xavier's dark eyes pierce through the director with resentment. Skye's pink, and she leans against the refrigerator for support. Chase is surrounded by empty, used water bottles like he's on an episode of Hoarders.

The windows finally lower down to their intended positions, creating a barrier between us and the wind.

"Congratulations recruits. One way or another, you all have made it up here," the director passive aggressively glimpses at me. "Now onto your next task—divulging sensitive information."

A rage-filled groan comes from Chase. "Seriously? We just scaled a 30 story building and you're giving us another test?"

The director glares at him. "Yes, Kingsley. Now as I was saying, getting a target to reveal intel, or stealing it, is the most powerful thing you can do as an agent. Tonight, you'll all be going to a bar..." All of us cheer prematurely. "...For your assessments." Disappointed protests follow.

"You'll each be given a target. Your job is to steal something they'd never tell anyone—their credit card numbers. Do whatever it takes."

~

Chestnut coated eyes stared into my own. Ethan Tanis, twenty-five, corporate lawyer. This man was my target for the night.

I'd spent the last three hours learning everything about Ethan. His likes, his dislikes, his entire life, essentially. Finally, my honed skills of social media stalking had paid off.

I examine the headshot provided to me once more. Other than the aforementioned chestnut eyes, features included tan skin, dirty blond hair, and a single dimple on his left cheek.

Dark red fabric clung to my body. The dress I chose was flirtatious, perfect for the girl that I'd make sure Ethan fell for tonight.

Everyone was dressed to impress. Ace, especially. I'd never admit this to his face, but the classic black leather jacket he wore made me tolerate his presence. Only then did I catch his golden gaze drifting across my dress.

I turn as red as my dress.

"So how are you guys going to do this?" Chase asks.

"Probably sleep with them," Xavier bluntly responds. Skye slaps his arm. "What?" Xavier continues, "The director did say do anything."

Chase scowls. "Unlucky for me, not all our targets are the desired sex."

"Can't you just, I dunno, bro-out with him or something?" I offer.

Chase sighs, "I'll try."

"Hey Octavia," Ace taunts softly so that only I can hear him. "I bet I can get the card number faster than you can."

I raise an intrigued eyebrow. "You're on. And what do I get when I win?"

"If you win," he utters, "I'll stop calling you Cupcake." He set these stakes seriously high.

"And if you win?"

Ace smirks. His breath lowers. "You have to wear that dress more often."

Octavia: "Vote if you want to see who wins the bet."