Assassin

“I just don’t understand why you did it Emma,” a soft voice brushes against the veil of sleep that covers me but I fight to return to its warmth.

“What is there to understand Dylan?” A female voice replies sounding angry. “She fell from a second story window and she’d been in a smoke-filled house for far too long. The house had all but burned to the ground. She would have died if I hadn’t brought her here.”

“Oh don’t give me that crap,” Dylan snaps. “There were healers at the house by the time you got there. Tell me the real reason Agent Cartwright. Now!”

“She could have easily given up and died but she didn’t. She fought for her right to live and she won. Anyone who has the strength to do that, deserves to be one of us,” Emma’s voice is steady and invites no argument.

The house had all but burned to the ground… These words ring in my ears and I sit bolt upright. Hot pain slices up my forearms, causing me to gasp then cough as my throat catches. Tears blur my vision and as my fit subsides, I feel a warm pressure on my shoulder, urging me to lay back down.

“Easy, easy,” Emma’s voice is as gentle as a passing breeze she moves her hand from my shoulder to my forehead, pushing the hair off my skin. “You inhaled a lot of smoke, you need to rest.”

The tears that had entered my eyes from the exertion coughing, now fall down my cheeks but it has nothing to do with the burning in my throat. “My parents,” I rasp turning my head to look at the woman beside my bed. “Did they make it out?”

Emma, a woman with dark red hair and tear filled blue eyes, shakes her head. “I’m sorry. After you jumped, and I made sure you were still alive, I went and talked to one of the firefighters coming out of the house. He - he said there were no other survivors.”

I squeeze my eyes closed as a numbness fills my limbs. I fight to subdue my grief, but I don’t do a very good job as I feel hot tears still wetting my cheeks. Ignoring this, I cast around for a new topic of conversation. I settle on the simplest and the one that is most important to me now. “Where am I?” I ask.

It’s Dylan who replies and even though I turn my head to face him, I can only make out his silhouette as he is standing in the shadows. “First things first, if you don’t mind. What is your name?”

“Katherine Mills.”

“How old are you?” Dylan asks gruffly.

“Sixteen.”

“Katherine,” I turn my head to look at Emma and she smiles at me kindly. “My name is Emma Cartwright and this is Dylan Reichmann. You are at the Headquarters of the Western Republic Assassins Agency. Mr. Reichmann is the Head of the Agency.”

Sitting up slowly, I rearrange the pillows behind me and settle against them with a sigh. Taking in the two figures of the adults, I notice that both are clad in white leather and that guns are held in holsters on their legs. Other than this, nothing else stands out about their appearance, but both have an authoritative presence and there is no doubt in my mind that both are experienced killers.

“Why am I here?” I ask looking from Emma to Dylan and back again.

Dylan steps forward so that he is directly under the glare of the light. His jet-black hair casts the rest of his face in shadow so that I can’t see the color of his eyes. He has two small scars, one on each cheek and though he appears to be strong and solidly built, he looks gaunt in the darkness. “Emma brought you here because she is convinced you can become an assassin. Though I’m not quite so sure.”

Feeling a small blow to my pride, I square my shoulders and return his scrutinizing glare. “Why is that?”

The Head Assassin lets an amused smile pull at his lips, though his eyes remain cold. “You just went through a physically and emotionally taxing ordeal Ms. Mills. I know that you do not have the discipline to keep your emotions in check and I am not sure you could ever learn it,” Dylan explains.

More tears spill down my cheeks at his words and I feel angry with myself for proving him right. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I glare at Dylan and I’m surprised when my voice comes out steady and defiant, “I just lost my family Reichmann. What do you expect of me?”

Dylan moves closer to my bed until our faces are inches apart. His eyes, which I now see are a bright blue color, stare deep into my own. “Death is a fact of life. People die all the time. As an assassin, your duty is to deal the death blow and you can’t do that if you’re weak.” His voice is dripping with derision and anger.

I’m about to snarl a reply when my throat catches and I begin to cough uncontrollably.

Dylan moves away from me and in the same tone comments to Emma, “You really know how to pick recruits Cartwright.”

“Give her two weeks Dylan. One week to recover in the infirmary and one week to train with me. She’ll be well enough to start Simulus training with the others,” Emma pleads.

Recovering from my fit of coughs I see Dylan’s reluctance, but eventually he nods. “You have two months. That’s the standard preparation time for the test. If she passes, she becomes one of us. If she fails, she’s out. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” Emma replies.

Without a backward glance, Dylan leaves the room.

As the door closes with a snap, I slump against my pillows, giving into the exhaustion that is crushing me. Watching Emma out of the corner of my eye, I ask, “Why are you fighting so hard for me?”

Emma doesn’t look at me as she replies, “You didn’t see what I saw. The whole house up in flames. Large chunks of it were charred black. It didn’t seem possible that there could be any survivors. Then there was the sound of shattered glass, thick black smoke was almost blotting out the moon, and then you fell from the roof. Bleeding and unconscious, but you were alive.

“Being an assassin is about more than killing. It’s about fighting for a cause that is bigger than you, than me, than any of us. You proved that you are a soldier and that you can fight a battle and win. That is what we expect from our assassins. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Turning these words over in my head, I close my eyes and try to slow my heart that is beating too fast. “What do you want me to do?” I ask opening my eyes.

“Right now? Right now, I want you to rest and recover. We’ll start training in a week,” Emma says all of this very matter of fact as if my world isn’t crumbling around me. As she walks toward the door, she pauses with her hand on the knob and I see her shoulders rise and fall as if she’s taking a deep breath.

When she turns back to face me, it’s then that I see that her eyes are shining with tears. “Katherine, I - I’m sorry that all of this happened. You didn’t deserve this,” she says in a gentle voice.

Unable to reply, I keep my gaze fixed on my hands. After a moment, I hear the door close with a soft snap and I pull my knees up to my chest and begin to sob, mourning everything I have lost.