Bravo Lima

“Reassigned?!”

The word burnt her tongue as it fell from her mouth, like venom dripping from her lips, searing through her very flesh with burning disbelief.

Her manicured fingernails digging into the plush dark leather of the chair. Jones, a formidable looking man, with thick eyebrows set heavily under a wrinkled forehead, a grey handlebar moustache paired with sleek styled greying hair, lifted his tired and frankly fed-up eyes from the various documents and folders spread across the Mahoghany desk before him watching her dangerously.

“Did I stutter?” he questioned sternly. His grey eyes homed in on her like a Predator. She never once questioned how he had earned his title of Chief when a simple look from him, she was sure, would be enough to make grown men cry.

Jones’ reputation was legendary, He had joined in the seventies and quickly earned a name for himself, he was one of the most feared agents of his generation.

He had spent time in Russia and America during the cold war, Aiding the CIA and gathering intelligence in the Soviet Union. Then he had spent time in Northern Ireland gathering intelligence.

Below them the streets of London were alive, vibrant, and loud in the mid-day sun, Alyssa could faintly heard the roar of traffic, the chorus of horns from impatient drivers rushing to get where they need to be, sightseers and tourists talking loudly over the cloud of noise wanting to be heard by one another.

London was uncharacteristically warm for mid may, a far too warm sun beating through the large floor to ceiling windows, illuminating the heavy-set office and its dark mahogany furniture. The dark surroundings doing little to keep the agent cool, her neat bun slowly falling apart, Baby hairs sticking uncomfortably to the back of her neck under slick sweat, her brow dripping more the longer she sat there under Jones’ intense stare.

“Well, its just- with respect sir. Don’t you think Banks or Vick would be better suited? I just don’t particularly feel comfortable leaving my work- “Alyssa’s mouth clamped shut the moment Jones’ raised his hand to silence her. A thick gold band sat proudly on his left ring finger. Her lips curled in on themselves as the office once again fell silent.

“Dixon. What I am about to tell you is a matter of national security. We believe we have a mole within the SAS division in Credenhill, specifically a unique task force known as Unit 22. We want you to go undercover and infiltrate the task force, discover the mole and report back. With your family ties to the military, you are the obvious candidate. Do you understand?” Jones’ gaze fixed on Dixon, watching her under an intense stare that made her shift in her seat slightly. After a few tense moments of silence Alyssa relented.

Her mind raced of her parents, she was sure they would be involved, Jones’ had just mentioned her families ties to the military. She had to hide the roll of her eyes as her family’s prestigious military career was brought up once again.

Her father, An Admiral, and her mother had been a Major General before she decided to focus more on raising her children than pursuing a further promotion. Even her siblings, her sister earning the role of Major and her brother, Wing Commander. Of course, it would be easier for her to be placed within the prestige ranks of the SAS rather that Banks or Vicks, both of whom had no familial ties to the military to earn their access.

“I’m sorry sir” Alyssa spoke breaking her trail of though, Jones watched her intently, telling her silently she didn’t have a choice in the matter, and she would be shipped off to Credenhill.

“How is it there is a task force within the SAS? If I remember correctly there are no special branches to the SAS?” Alyssa questioned. A sly smiled crossed Jones dry lips. He lent back in his chair almost casually, the crisp dark suit not even crinkling at the movement.

“That’s because there isn’t...not officially anyway. Unit 22 was created with the sole objective of stopping Ivanovna. They and they alone are the reason we know such much about him. excluding yourself of course” Alyssa’s eyebrows furrowed having just discovered hidden somewhere within Credenhill is a secretive band of ‘special Operatives’ all working towards stopping Ivanovna.

“Hence why you are the obvious choice, you have worked with Ivanovna, you know how he moves. You probably know just as much as they do about the man.” Jones’ made a noise that almost sounded like a disbelieving laugh. Alyssa had never heard the man so much as scoff a laugh through his nose and she believed this would be the closest she would come to hearing him laugh.

“This task force is extremely hard to be accepted into Dixon. They only take the best of the best.” Jones continued watching her intently.

“So, when do I start?” Was her only reply.

»--•--«

“McAllister! a word”

Hawthorne’s voice cut above the loud chatter of the rec room. Captain McAllister stood near a large worn pool table; His arms folded over his chest. The teams two snipers, Raven and Turtle, Playing a game of pool with mismatched balls. The rest of the team gathered around the old TV watching the Man united game, City sat practically on the edge of the worn musty couch, his legs bouncing as he stared at the screen in anticipation. McAllister chuckled pushing himself from the windowsill where he had been leaning, striding towards Hawthorne.

Hawthorne was a weaselly man, greying hair hidden under his cap, Heavy set wrinkles that surrounded his small beady eyes, A thick moustache covering almost non-existent lips. He stood shorter than McAllister, the Scottish captain almost half a foot taller and broader, McAllister had often wondered how Hawthorne had wormed his way up the ranks and gained the position of Major General.

He certainly wasn’t remarkable, and McAllister hadn’t seen his record so unless he had some pretty medals to flash, the answer was unknown to the captain. McAllister didn’t care for him. He followed orders like the good soldier he was but aside from that he had little opinion of Hawthorne.

“Sir?” McAllister questioned. He stood feet shoulder width apart, the pair could hear the rowdy chatter from within the rec room, for the eruption of cheers and celebrations, McAllister deduced Man Utd had scored.

“GET IN YOU BASTARD!” City’s voice carried above the rest only confirming the captains’ suspicions. McAllister chuckled slightly knowing if Man Utd won this game they would be playing his team Aberdeen F.C.

It wasn’t often their teams played against each other, Due to City’s team recently struggling after replacing half their players and their manager. However last time they played the captain and Lieutenant had spent the week running up to the match goading each other to the point when it finally reached match day, they were separated to opposite sides of the rec room by the team to avoid any violence.

“I have replaced your field medic” Hawthorne spoke; a brown file grasped between his fingers which he slowly held towards the captain. McAllister flicked open the file, his eyes landed on the small polaroid picture paper clipped to the top of the paper.

A girl.

Well girl was the wrong word, girl implied immaturity, naivety, and innocence. The picture was that of a woman, Raven hair slicked back into a bun, Bright emerald eyes that seemed to hold something deeper behind them, a small scar just above her right eyebrow, barely visible but as the captain studied her face he noticed it, plump full lips set in a straight line.

Too pretty. Too soft. He thought to himself.

Sargent Emily Johnson.

“A woman sir?” McAllister questioned raising a scared eyebrow as he lifted his gaze watching Hawthorne through his eyelashes, The general raised his eyebrow at the captain, a small hum leaving his lips. McAllister’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, He had created the task force himself with his friend and mentor Davis. Since the forming of the task force a woman had never joined the ranks, McAllister thought to how the men would react. Would they accept her? Would they flirt with her? Or would they simply flat out reject her?

“Is that a problem captain?” Hawthorne Spoke, his voice stern and cold, McAllister quickly backtracked shaking his head slightly, his eyes darting back down to the folder before once again returning to the Major General. The captain inhaled deeply through his nose his head twitching slightly as if in thought.

“Not at all, sir. if she’s right for the job then it doesn’t matter” He spoke as he continued to flick through her file. Passing her achievements, medical records, combat details.

“She comes with a shining recommendation from Major Maria Dixon at Chelmsford” Hawthorne tapped the piece of paper showing McAllister the shinning recommendation from Major Dixon.

The captains’ eyes briefly scanned the page, his eyebrows pulled together slightly as the recommendation seemed almost too perfect. However, his doubts were soon squashed as he realised any negative comment or area for improvement was at the bottom and the major certainly hadn’t held back. McAllister decided he would have to inspect the file more closely later when there wasn’t such an important game on.

“With all respect sir, recommendations don’t mean shit if she can’t handle the job” Hawthorne barely chuckled at the captain’s words before his face returned to its usual stony expression. The captain tucked the file securely under his arm.

“She is arriving tomorrow. I understand you and Lieutenant Richardson will be in the field. I expect you to assign someone to greet her and show her around” McAllister nodded, he thought for a moment, he knew none of the men would be overly happy showing the BNG around, Pork and Bentley would probably tell her overdramatised fibs to mess with her, Raven and Turtle would probably just grunt as they showed her quickly around, Palpo would spend the whole time flirting with her, at least with City in the field with him he didn’t have to worry about the lieutenants short temper around the new recruit.

“Sargent Smith sir. I think he would be the best choice with me and City in the field” McAllister spoke finally settling on someone he felt could be a good influence on the new recruit. Hawthorne nodded curtly towards the captain before turning on his heels as he began to leave the Barracks.

“Make sure he’s at the landing pad at eleven,” Hawthorne spoke as he opened the heavy metal door they scrapped against the concrete floor, the noise enough to cause the captains teeth to hurt. McAllister stood in the corridor for a few extra moments before returning to the loud rec room. He returned just as Man United scored another goal, securing their win and marking the relentless torment he and City would give out and endure for the next week.

“What did tight bollocks want?” Raven questioned moving his way towards the captain. The sniper ten years the teams senior, placed his hand on the captains shoulder, McAllister chuckled slightly holding up the brown file.

“We’ve got an BNG arriving tomorrow” McAllister spoke addressing the rec room, the noise in the room seemed to die down immediately, everyone’s attention pulled from the game, unbothered the other team scored as they stared at McAllister, he flicked through the pages of the file lazily.

“With me and City in the field... Moth, it’s down to you to show her around” Moth groaned loudly throwing his head back slightly against a couch cushion, the sergeant could think of a hundred things he would rather do that show round the new guy. Moth’s head snapped back up staring at the captain once he fully processed his words.

“Her? sir” He questioned his eyebrow raising slightly, an uncomfortable silence fell over the rec room, the team all exchanging questioning glances with one another.

“although it’s uncommon... it seems our bastard new guy is actually a bastard new girl” McAllister chuckled, murmurs filled the Rec room as the team began chatting among themselves concerning the new female recruit, some worried she would drag the team down, that they would have to compensate for her on the field, some were unsure if they even wanted her joining all together, disrupting the already good team they had.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” Was all City could reply.

»--•--«

“Well, I’m not happy!”

Her father’s voice was as stern as the look he gave her, he watched her across the large oak dining table, his hands gripping his knife and fork tightly.

She felt like a child as he watched her, taking her back to when she was fifteen and caught sneaking out of her window late at night, her father had sat across this very dining table, staring at her with the very same look.

No one dared to speak, everyone’s eyes remained focused on their China plate in-front of them. Alyssa glanced around at her siblings for any sign of help. Maria stared at her plate intently, gently cutting into her mother’s famed roast chicken, David, her brother, glancing towards his wife, Jennifer, who sat to his left.

“I know it’s your job but so soon really?!” He questioned with a heavy sigh, dropping his cutlery, and running a hand over his face. Alyssa opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it.

“Darling... you know how important Lisie’s job is to her and you said the same thing about Russia, and she was fine” Peggy spoke, sending her daughter a reassuring wink across the dinner table as she reached for her husband’s hand.

“Dad, I know you don’t like it but I’m hardly going to be there forever, it’s a few months tops then I’ll be back” Alyssa countered. Peter sighed heavily, he held his wife’s hand as if it would give him courage.

“fine” he finally spoke with a heavy sigh, Alyssa relaxed back into her chair, finally tucking into the succulent chicken her mother had slaved over for hours.

“But it doesn’t mean I have to like it”