by Jack Parker
Finally, I looked up at him. "Thanks for saving my life."
The man nodded his head.
He waited me for to lean back before he accelerated down the street.
I stood there for a few minutes as I took in everything that just happened. I scolded myself for having these mixed feelings. For God's sake Rachel, get a hold of yourself!
I shook my head.
I then looked down and realized that I forgot to return the Guardian's coat. I slapped my forehead in annoyance.
I grumbled to myself as I made my way inside the building, and arrived at my apartment. A shower was in call.
Chapter 8: May I Know Your Name?
A long and uneventful month passed since the encounter with the Guardian. Ever since I was ambushed by those Phantom agents, I haven't had even one incident that involved them.
During those weeks, I've occasionally thought about the Guardian as I've wondered what exactly he was doing to "protect" me.
I haven't seen nor heard any mention of him at all since he saved my life. I sometimes wondered if he was just a figment of my imagination, but I knew all too well that the emotions I felt were very real.
There wasn't much for me to do. The Directors have halted all missions for Scout agents as an investigation was underway for the Head Scout's murder.
I hated not being able to do anything, so I spent most of my time working out at the Seeker's training gym. It distracted me from the cruel reality that enveloped me, as well as prevented me from dying of boredom.
After spending at least six hours at the gym, I normally would have gone to a small jazz café I found to enjoy the various groups that came and performed.
________________________________________
I was sitting on the chair by my balcony. I took out my mother's necklace, and examined it. It was made from silver, and it had my mother's name written on it: Katherine.
My eyes softened as I remembered her wearing it all the time, even while she slept. She said it provided her with a sense of comfort as it was a gift from her father who died when she was just a child.
My mother was a very spiritual woman, though she wasn't exactly very forthcoming with her faith. She preferred to have kept it private, but her beliefs were very influential on my brother and I.
Memories associated with the necklace brought a sad smile to my face. I clutched the piece of jewelry close to my chest. My eyes snapped shut as I tried to hold back the old, lingering emotions. A rebellious lone tear slipped past my defenses, and a wet trail slithered down my cheek.
A barely audible tap resounded on my balcony door.
I swiftly brushed the tear stain away, and instinctively grabbed my gun from the table. Who the hell was tapping at my door?
I made my way over to the door.
Cautiously, I grabbed the handle, and opened it slowly. The warm breeze of the mid-spring air encompassed my apartment. The sun had set about an hour ago, the moon took over as the light source. Its sheer brilliance lit me up, while everything else was shrouded in darkness.
I narrowed my eyes in annoyance at my disadvantage.
The sound of footsteps came from behind me.
I whipped my body around, and aimed my gun at the general direction. A dark figure walked towards me, appearing like a supernatural being when illuminated in the moonlight.
I lowered my gun when I realized that it was the Guardian. "It's you." I said. "What are you doing here?"
The man in question cocked his head back. "I'm your Guardian, Agent Moore. It's my duty to keep an eye on you."
I raised an eyebrow. "It certainly didn't seem that way when you disappeared for a whole month."
My comment seemed to have caught the Guardian off guard for he stumbled a bit, obviously at a loss. "I was merely studying your regular activities. I didn't abandon you if that's what you're suggesting. I had to learn your schedule to ensure that you wouldn't be alone at any time." He replied almost embarrassed.
I blinked. "Oh." I simply stated. "So you were always watching me?"
The Guardian nodded, the movement covered even more of his face in the shadows.
I self-consciously rubbed my head, a habit I developed whenever I was embarrassed.
My gesture must have snapped the Guardian out of his momentary embarrassment. "Your hair is down." He simply stated.
My hand froze in place as I took in what he said. I looked up at him to find him staring at me with that same intensity he seemed to have reserved for me. "Yes," I said, "it is."
The Guardian diverted his glance from my face to my hair. "Why do you keep it up?" He asked.
It was an innocent question, but since it came from him it seemed more like an interrogation.
I placed my hands behind my back, and rubbed my arm. "It gets in my way whenever I'm on missions. It would be easier to just cut it, but I made a promise not to." I realized that I said too much, and quickly snapped my mouth shut.
The Guardian cocked his head at me once more. He probably even raised an eyebrow, though it was hard to tell underneath his hood.
I cursed myself for saying too much. I couldn't believe that by being in the presence of this man, it made me openly say things that I normally kept private.
The Guardian ignored my earlier reaction, and walked towards me until he was directly in front of me.
I looked up at him, and stared directly into his grey eyes. He too was looking at me as he observed me like a specimen under a microscope.
Boldly, the Guardian delicately took a strand of my hair, and rubbed it in his gloved hand. My eyes narrowed.
The Guardian realized that his action was too close for comfort. He let go of my hair, and took a few steps back.
He coughed as he tried to push away the uneasy tension in the air. "Do you like music?" He asked after a moment.
I gave him a confused look. "Yes I do. Why?"
The Guardian ruffled through one of his numerous pockets, and took out a piece of paper. He gave it to me, and showed me the front side.
It stated that "Salute to Vienna" would be playing at the grand theater on May 16th. In accordance with the date today, that was about five weeks away.
I glanced up at him. "Why are you showing me this?" I asked.
"I figured it'd be something you'd like. I was just trying to make you more comfortable during this phase." The Guardian replied smoothly.
Annoyance took a hold of me once more. He obviously knew a lot of about me, yet I knew absolutely nothing about him.
I placed the ticket in my pocket.
Seeming to take his cue, the Guardian turned his back towards me, and gave me one last glance. "I'll leave you to decide whether you would wish to attend or not. We will meet again."
He started to walk away when once again my damn mouth went off on its own accord. "Wait!"
The Guardian looked back at me.
I spoke. "I have something for you."
I made a gesture to instruct the Guardian to wait, and quickly went back into my apartment.
I rummaged around in my closet, and took out the object of interest.
I sped walk back to my balcony where the Guardian was still waiting. I held out the piece of clothing. "I forgot to give you back your coat, though it seems you've got plenty more." I blabbered out.
I couldn't read the Guardian's facial expression as he took the coat from my grasp. I stood still as he rolled it up carefully, and placed it over his shoulder. "Thanks," he said.
I nodded. "Yeah, no problem." I quietly took a deep breath. "Since I returned your coat, I think it's fair that I at least know your name."
For a moment, there was just silence as the Guardian debated on my request.
Finally, he turned his head towards me. "Very well. You may refer to me as Agent Delta."
With that, he jumped down the building's fire escape onto the dark ground below.
I stood there for a few minutes contemplating on the Guardian's weird behavior. I suppose it's because I've never had an
y interaction with his rank.
I shook my head, and took out the ticket.
As I looked down at it, I noticed that I missed a very important detail. The sight almost made me groan in annoyance. "Great," I said, "it's a masquerade theme."
Not wanting to stand outside anymore, I went back into my apartment, and double checked that my balcony door was locked.
Chapter 9: Corruption within the Incorruptible
After another prolonged week of filling out paperwork regarding my last mission, and undergoing a psych evaluation, I was officially back in business. It nearly cost me an arm to convince the Directors that I was ready to go back. I didn't understand why they were so hesitant with me.
Nevertheless, I walked down the street with a slight skip. Seeker HQ never looked more inviting than it did the moment I received a message stating that Scouts were allowed to resume their missions.
There was no conclusive evidence to solve who assassinated the Head Scout. As such, the Directors switched their focus to planning his funeral.
I was currently sitting in a rather comfortable leather chair in one of the Seeker lounges. I opened the new mission file, and briefly skimmed through the details.
Apparently there was a person of interest who was suspected of dealing with Phantom agents. The purpose wasn't specified.
My job was to arrest the man for an interrogation.
To do that, I had to meet with an anonymous contact who only provided me with the location of the meeting place.
I hated going into situations with no clue of what was going on, but I had no choice. I just hoped that there would be no gun waiting to put a bullet in my head, or worse, an explosion. That would have really ruined my day.
I got up from my chair, and made my way down to the main hall.
Prior to my mission briefing, I made a stop to the Seeker armory, and carefully selected a better pistol. The .40 caliber Glock was adequate, however, I needed something that could really pack a punch. My little run in with the Phantom agents was still fresh in my mind.
As such, I chose the .50 caliber Magnum gun.
I took the elevator down to the underground parking lot where my ride was waiting for me. Since I had no car, I had the excuse to test out my new baby: the Kawasaki Ninja 500R, 2019 edition.
Its cost was nearly thirty grand due to all of the modifications that were put into it. It acquired high mileage capacity, yet didn't burn fuel quickly.
Putting in our own tech equipment into it was a worthy investment. I also customized it to my liking: a sleek black color with purple hues and spikes on the sides of each tire in case of being rammed by another vehicle.
Afterwards my momentary admiration of the mechanical beauty, I easily slid myself on top, and placed my legs in the right position while my hands settled on the handle. I rubbed the one that controlled the gas, and appreciated the fine sound of the strong engine.
I settled my helmet on my head, secured the claps, and was on my way out to the very peculiar world.
As soon as the cool breeze hit my body, I allowed myself to close my eyes temporary. I savored the sense of freedom I experienced.
For a moment, I forgot about the war, about my devastating adolescence, and just focused on the sensation at hand.
In that brief amount of time, I was free from all of the obstacles and duties that were placed upon me. I was simply Rachel Moore: an average woman with a taste for adventure.
Moments like that, all I wanted to do was say "to hell with this", and go far away to make my own life. That was not possible in present times, though. Not until the Phantoms were stopped once and for all.
Motivated, I sped up my bike, and zoomed past the countless cars on the busy streets of New York. Just one out of millions of people aiming towards a goal.
________________________________________
A while later, I arrived at the contact's location. It was in a quiet suburban neighborhood with not many people out. I suppose the contact chose this location due to the lack of eyes and ears that could have potentially spied on us.
I dropped off my bike in a well-lit area as I didn't want it to get stolen.
I walked aimlessly towards the local strip mall.
There were only a few individuals out, most likely doing some last minute errands before heading home for the night.
As I looked at my watch, I saw that it was already 7pm. I stood there, and looked around for any sign of the contact.
As if reading my mind, a whistle caught my attention.
I turned around and saw a young man with a baseball cap leaning against the opposite wall.
Once he realized that I noticed him, he gestured for me to follow, and disappeared behind the building.
I looked around cautiously, before I made my way over to where he went. One could never be too careful in life, especially with my luck.
Once around the other side of the building, the whistle came again.
I saw whom I assumed to have been the contact leaning once more on the wall.
His cap shaded his face, but I was able to make out a faint scar over his nose.
"You a Seeker agent?" He asked in his gruff voice.
I automatically snapped to attention as I put on my professional air. "That's correct." I answered. "According to the file, you have information about someone who had contact with Phantom agents."
"I've got information alright, but first, I'll ask you a question." The contact slightly leaned forward. "How willing are you to get rid of the Phantoms?"
His question surprised me.
"The Seekers will do anything to stop the Phantoms. They have to be stopped." I answered confidently.
"I didn't ask what the Seekers would do. I asked how far are you willing to go?"
I couldn't help but blink repeatedly. Was he testing me?
I spent about half a minute carefully coming up with an appropriate answer. "I'd say that I would be prepared to do whatever it takes to stop the Phantoms, even if it costs me my life."
"Even if there's collateral damage?"
I became increasingly bothered by the man's questions. I was supposed to interrogate him, not the other way around.
I took in a deep breath as I willed myself to not snap at him. "Collateral damage can never be avoided, but I will do everything I can to minimize it."
My answer seemed to have satisfied the contact for he leaned back into a relaxed position. "Alright Seeker, ask away." He stated casually.
I got straight to the point. "Who is this person, and what is done during his dealings with the Phantoms?"
The contact chuckled at my directness. "His name is Martin Hill. He runs the local bar in this area, though you'll never see him there. Thinks he's some big shot ever since he started winning money in online poker events. Normally, his activities wouldn't have bothered anyone; that is until he started mixing with the wrong people."
"The Phantoms." I mumbled.
"Exactly." The contact confirmed. "A couple of months ago, he started doing deals with them; just the occasional trade. Now there's a rumor going around saying that he's actively feeding these Phantoms information on your organization: weaknesses, security codes, current missions, personal records on agents, etc…"
"My God." I said. "Is he a spy?"
The man shrugged carelessly. "I don't know Seeker, you tell me. If you think your pitiful organization is incorruptible, then you're in for a rude awakening."
I fought the urge to rebuke the man. "Where can I find him?" I asked as I anticipated the answer.
"You won't find him at all." The contact replied. "He's learned how to hide, although, there is one event you can catch him at."
"What's that?" I asked.
"On May 16th, there's gonna be some kind of musical event that he'll be attending."
"Salute to Vienna." I stated.
The contact nodded. "Yeah, that one. That's your best bet of catching him so that you Seekers can question him yourselves." The man then
removed his weight from the wall. "I told you everything that I know. So now that we're done, I'll just be on my way."
I placed my arm on the wall, and used it as a physical barrier. "Not so fast," I stated. "You're well informed about this Martin Hill. Why are you helping us?"
An amused smirk teased at the corner of the contact's lips. "Just trying to be a law-abiding citizen," he simply said. He then lowered his head, his cap casted his face in the shadows. "A simple lookover can tell one more than they need to know about a person."
With that, he stepped around my arm and walked away.
Before I had a chance to stop him, the contact disappeared into the alleyway.
I stared for a moment, thinking over what he just said. What was that supposed to mean?
Shaking my head, I walked back to my bike, and processed all the information the contact told me.
Salute to Vienna: that was the same musical event that the Guardian invited me to. Was it possible that he knew about the connection?
There was only one way to find out.
I quickly made my way back to my bike only to see some heavily pierced punk leaning towards it far too close for my taste.
My eyes narrowed as I locked in on the intruder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.
The guy merely looked up at me with a bored expression. "I'm admiring the bike. What's it to you?"
"That's my bike you're spreading your unwanted odor on."
With that remark, the guy fully turned his body towards me, and gave me a slight glare. "Who do you think you are, bitch?" He hissed.
Before he could react, I tackled him to the cement ground, and twisted his hands over his head. I pressed my legs on top of his to prevent him from kicking me. "I believe that my rank says it all." I pulled out my Seeker ID, only showing the part that stated my rank.
Upon seeing it, the man visibly paled, and abruptly stopped struggling. "Shit, umm, I didn't mean what I said." He stuttered.
I smiled innocently. "Oh really? You've said some pretty hurtful things to me. You don't say such words to a lady." I then leaned forward so that my lips were close to his ear. "Try that again, and I promise that something will be ripped off of your body. I'm not talking about your piercings."
