Code Name: Angel
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Code Name - Sierra Shephard
good.
Chapter 1
Paul Morsi. As we sit in his million-dollar pool at his million-dollar home, his lips move in slow motion as he babbles on about his life. All he does is talk and not listen. I can feel my brain cells falling out of my ears. Don’t you agree, Nickole?
The sound of my name snaps me back into the conversation.
Yes, please continue,
I respond.
Paul continues to tell his Wonder-boy, rags to riches
story. But little does he know, oh so little does he know, that tonight, it is all over for him. The problem for men like Morsi is that they feel as if they are indomitable, making it easy as hell for people like me to swoop into their lives and take everything away from them…including their life…
While he progresses with his story I extend my arm, reaching for my margarita on the poolside. Without pause from talking, he grabs his as well. I made these drinks with the normal Tequila and lime juice. For the sugar around the brim I made it special for Paul; crushed Rohypnol and sugar, plus a little extra roofies in his drink. He takes a few sips from his glass, then continues to go on about his life. So, how was your day?
He finally includes me in the chat. I bullshit about how my day was while he sips on his drink during my story. Most of the sugar around the brim is gone by the time I finish. He’s not that big of a guy, so what he consumed should be enough.
Roughly 20 minutes pass since he’s finished his margarita. Paul begins to slur his words and leans closer to me. I feel his lips against my neck. With one motion I down my glass and set it to the side of the pool. I motion him to kiss me. Like a dog obeying his master, he does so. Paul passionately kisses me; I kiss back. The man returns to kissing my neck. Gradually, he works his way down my body. He begins to stumble during his kisses. Once he arrives at my stomach, I see my chance to make my move. I gently place my right hand on the top of his head and my left hand on the back of his neck. I felt in his swim trunks that he was getting excited. Right then, I submerge his head completely under the water. He struggles to stop me from drowning him. Time passes and his struggle weakens, then it stops completely. I hold him under the water for a few more seconds to make sure he is dead.
I get out of the pool and grab my bag to get my phone and dial the number I call when I finish my assignments. The phone dial sounds through the phone.
LAZ Medical, how may I help you?
Sean picks up with the undercover routine response.
Cut the shit, Sean, it’s Angel. Morsi is taken care of.
Angel, you know goddamn well that I have to answer the phone like that! Just—
Blah, blah, la la la, just do your job and get the cleanup people here,
I interrupt him.
I am doing my jo—
I hang up before he has a chance to finish his sentence.
A few minutes later, Jon-Jon and the cleanup crew arrive and they find me in the backyard. Jon-Jon and two cleaning men wearing army camouflage attire walk towards me. Jon-Jon stops in front of me while the two men pass me, walking in the direction of the pool. I smile kindly at him. He puts his hands on his hips.
The fuck, man?
he says with a straight face. Why you get all of the easy assignments?
he asks. I look behind me and see the two men fishing Paul Morsi’s lifeless body out of the pool. Jon-Jon begins to speak. So this muthafucker was on some Tony Stark-type shit, huh?
Yeah! You gotta see these bombs and rockets he built. And he had tanks drawn up, too. However, I really don’t see why they had me kill him. They could have used him for our military. But, you know how America is.
I pause to watch the men carry Morsi out on a stretcher. I softly giggle through my nose at the sight. God bless America,
I say sarcastically.
God bless America,
Jon-Jon repeats in a stereotypical Southern accent.
Chapter 2 – Comfort
I jolt awake from another Post Traumatic Stress dream. My breathing is heavy, and sweat is trickling down my neck and face. I bury my face into my hands to try and calm myself. Nickole?
I hear Hailey call my name. The sound of her voice startles me. Hailey is my girlfriend…kind of, but kind of not. I’ll go into detail about her later.
You okay?
she asks.
Yeah…I’ll be fine.
She walks into my room and sits on the bed with me. She places her hand on my back. The warmth of her hand instantly comforts me.
Another dream?
she asks. I nod. The landmine one again?
I nod once more. There was a long moment of silence. Hailey understood I need the silence to return to my correct state of mind. Well, I made breakfast. And Jon-Jon is here, too.
I’m not sure if I told you exactly who Jon-Jon is. Just know he is my best friend.
I sigh and slowly crawl out of bed. The smell of the food attracts me to the kitchen. In the kitchen I am greeted by the warm smile of Jon-Jon. Immediately, I start some shit with him. Why the hell are you always here? Will you ever take your ass home?
But I—
And you’re eating all of my goddamn food.
I pick up the box of Fruit Loops, only to find that the box is empty. I stare at the box. Johnathan…
What’s up?
Did you eat all of my cereal?
Huh?
He gives me a dumb look.
"Did you eat all of my fucking Fruit Loops?’
Nick, cut it out!
Hailey commands me.
But this bitch ate all my cereal!
I turn back to Jon-Jon. You lucky you like a brother to me. Because you was about to get your ass whooped.
He smiles. I sit in the empty seat across from him. Hailey brings me my plate of breakfast. Jon-Jon looks at my plate. He starts to lean across the table, his hand reaching for my plate. I gesture with my fork, threatening him away. Hailey places a plate in front of Jon-Jon. Don’t be greedy, there’s plenty,
she comments. Then, she takes a seat to the left of me. Jon-Jon begins to speak.
So I hear corporate is trying to make you be in charge of the AP Trainee Program.
I sigh. Yeah, trying is correct. I’m not doing that bull. They should ask someone who is more of a people person to do it.
Hailey cuts in, How about we don’t talk about work.
Jon-Jon and I agree with her. She continues to speak. So, Nick, you came home late last night. What were you up to?
I straight face her.
You just said let’s not talk about work. You know what I was doing. I was working. And if I told you what I was doing, I would have to throw you off that balcony.
I understand that. But! You could have been with a guy…or girl.
I just don’t go around fucking people.
They both look at me instantly. I look back at them, baffled. Is that what you two really think I do in my free time?
Jon-Jon clears his throat. Well, what else could you possibly be doing?
I squint my eyes at him. He avoids my gaze. I’m just saying, you get more ass than me. So Hailey’s argument is actually valid.
You want to go over that balcony with Hailey? Because that can be arranged,
I comment.
We all finish our food. As I get out of my chair, I stop to the sudden pain in my lower back. These sudden aches and pains are all souvenirs from previous assignments. Jon-Jon looks at me with a concerned look. You okay, kid?
he asks.
Yeah…I’m good.
I turn to Hailey. I’m ‘bout to get in the shower.
Chapter 3
As I turn on the shower, it seems the water falls to my body in slow motion. I try to keep my showers short; when I’m in the shower, my mind tends to wonder. My mind is quite a dangerous place. Thoughts can turn psychotic, then be calming in the same process. The shower is where memories of my past seem to want to pay me a visit. Like the memories of the people’s lives I’ve taken or the memories of past lovers, still feeling their touch on my skin. I have managed to greet some memories with open arms; others, I try to keep in a corner.
I step out of the shower and the cool breeze hugs me. The breeze is like the wind, pushing me back into reality. As I am drying off I walk into my closet. My fashion is pretty basic; I’m the tomboy type. Most of my outfits consist of bomber jackets, V-necks, and skinny jeans. I get dressed, putting on a light-gray V-neck that complements my sandy skin tone, and navy skinny jeans with those rips in the knees. Time still seems like it’s going in slow motion.
Jon-Jon is waiting on me in the living room. I motion to him that I am ready to leave. Before we go, Hailey gives me a kiss on the cheek and Jon-Jon a hug. Are you gonna be home late?
she asks.
I’ll try not to be,
I reply, and kiss her on the forehead.
Jon-Jon and I get on the elevator to the parking garage. He gives me a suspicious look.
Why are you looking at me like that?
I ask. The elevator doors open.
Are you planning on staying out late? Because you just finished an assignment.
Yeah, I’m aware.
You need to stop taking assignments from everyone else. Plus, you take all the good ones.
It’s first come, first served. People shouldn’t be so lazy and be more persistent, like me.
We reach my car. Every six months or so I get a new one. You can never be too safe, ya know? This time around I got a black Cadillac CTS. Jon-Jon gets in the passenger seat. So you serious about taking on another mission?
he asks while I start the car.
I mean yeah. Why not? It puts more money in my pocket. Then again, I might get a phone call from a client. If that happens, I won’t take another assignment.
"You’re real slick. How is it that you got a side hitman business and you haven’t been stopped by the CIA yet? Like, you killin’ people for other people."
No, no. I have a feeling they know I’m running a side business. However, will they say something to me? Nope…probably not.
We pull up to the APA building where we work. It’s just an ordinary six-story building that blends in with the rest of the Chicago small business area. Jon-Jon and I take the elevator up the 6th floor. The 6th floor is dedicated to the A1 agents.
Like I have explained before, APs are special agents. It stands for Advanced Placement, just like in a school. We aren’t part of the government; we are an agency that gets hired by the government. We have branches in all parts of the world.
I’m an A1 and so is Jon-Jon. There are only about 30 A1s in the world, including me and Jon-Jon. As for the total number of APs there are about 80 of us all over the country, and around 200 globally. A1s are the most valuable, mostly because we have been trained almost since we could walk. We have the most skill in intelligence and combat. We can’t get fired or anything like that because the government needs us the most, every single last one of us. A1s come few and far between.
We exit the elevator and everyone in the room looks at us. Our boss’ name is Anthony Clyde. He is a man whose words speak louder than his actions. Clyde is a nice-looking black man who kind of resembles Samuel L. Jackson, and just so happens to be Jon-Jon’s dad. We go to him to get assignments approved and shit like that.
I approach Clyde’s office but the door is closed. I think he is in there talking to Bryce,
one of the other agents tell me.
Thanks!
I respond, opening the door to Clyde’s office. Clyde and Bryce look at me.
Nickole! Stop busting into my office like that! Knock, for Christ’s sake!
Clyde yells.
I smile at him innocently. I do the what’s up
nod to Bryce, then I look back at Clyde. I’m just here to ask you when my money from the Paul Morsi assignment is gonna be wired to my account,
I explain to him.
Oh, right, I forgot to tell you that the systems are down. But I have your cash for you,
he responds, and holds up a white envelope. I go to take the envelope, but he doesn’t let go of it. If you bring your ass into my office like that again Imma break my foot so far up yo’ ass, then use your money to buy me some new loafers,
he threatens. I give him a massive smile, snatching the envelope from his hand. Bryce grins at me as I walk out of the office.
Chapter 4 – Bryce Amant
Now let me tell you a little about that boy Bryce. This guy is an A1, so we are pretty close. The thing about him is that he is a hopeless romantic, and he is kind of that annoying ex who won’t get over you, but we never officially dated. He is kind and gentle the majority of the time. He is sexy as hell. On top of that, Bryce is French-American. We call him Frenchie. He is gorgeous, with beaming emerald eyes (like mine), dark hair, and a nice beard that’s thick but not too thick, if you catch my drift. His body looks like it’s sculpted by gods. Overall, he is flawless when it comes to looks. Not to mention, he and I had a little thing for a little while when we were both in the army. I left him once I met Hailey. But, like I said before, Bryce and I are still very close. We fool around once and a while. I will go more into detail about him a later time.
Chapter 5
As I walk towards my cubical space, I squeeze the thickness of the envelope. A grin of satisfaction comes across my face. I sit at my cubical, open the envelope, and pull out my money. Man, $15,000 never looked