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The Black Lynx

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Chapter II : A.I.S.A.

Recap:

Agent: Meega Teress

Next Location: UAE, Abu Dhabi

Mission: Keep a watch on Julian Ivakshok Dragomir. Son of multi- millionaire, and sole heir.

The final envelope held his picture. I swiftly, popped it open, and was treated to quite the sight. Over six feet tall, wonderfully defined facial structure, intense grey-green eyes, light brown hair, full lips, and of course dimpled chin, and dimpled cheek. Hmmm, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Chapter II: A.I.S.A

UAE, Abu Dhabi, Sunday 8:00am, 30-01-15

So, the first period was English, then I had advisory, which was a twenty minute break, and finally physical education. A short schedule, but only for today. I tore my eyes from the schedule, and regarded the light blue door with apprehension. Room number 315, located on the third floor, the very first class of the day. My stomach was doing flip flops. I mean ask me to scale Burj Khalifa, yeah I will do that again. Kill a bunch of goons, yes aced that. Go jetting around the world solving crimes, and assassinating those who deserved it, yes I have been doing that splendidly for quite a while. But, switching schools had never been difficult. I always managed to slip in and out unnoticed. Now don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy social interaction quite a bit. Heck, my profession demands I do tours all over the globe. I love the diversity, culture, and most definitely the people. This was the silver lining to the dark cloud, which was my calling and all the baggage that came with it. However, my nerves were just a bit on the edge which in turn made me queasy. I always have my guard up, but never to the point of paranoia. Shaking my head, I turned the knob, and walked into the class. All heads turned towards me, around fourteen students, all female. Hmmm, a small class. But then again, this was an international school, in other words a private one. Most of them tended to have smaller classes. The teacher, a man in his late twenties with brown hair and brown eyes, smiled and commenced a conversation.

“Hi there, you must be Meega Teress! I am Mr. Wert. I am your IB 1 English literature teacher.”

Well he certainly was perky. How so at eight in the morning is beyond me, nevertheless I replied back in a neutral tone.

“Hey, yeah that’s me. Any specific seating plan I have to follow?”

“Gosh no! Just sit wherever there’s an empty spot.”

I swept my gaze over the class’s plain, white walls, and the seemingly friendly faces of the students. I chose to sit at the very corner of the class, as far away as possible from Mr. Sunshine, and the others. If Mr. Wert was bothered with my reclusive behavior he didn’t say so. Instead, he just carried on with a short story called The Interlopers. I practically zoned out. I had read this story before, and analyzed it in depth. This was child’s play for me. I was observing the instructor with an indifferent look until he did the one thing that he never should have done. He committed the one mortal sin which instantly put him in ‘to-kill on sight’ book. He dared to nickname me. Now, this may not seem like a big deal to most, but to me I don’t like it, at all. I have a name, and it most definitely has a use. I outright glared at him, but he ignored it, and continued to address me with that atrocious nick name.

“So, Meegs. What’s the answer?”

“My name is not Meegs. It is Meega.”

“Same thing! Now, without further ado, what’s the answer?”

“Meega, M-e-e-g-a! I have a name!”

At this, the class erupted in laughter.

“Meegs!”

They were practically choking themselves now.

“Meega!”

The deafening laughter continued.

“No, that’s what I am calling you.”

Finally, the laughter reached a crescendo and died out.

I gave up, and continued to give him the death glare. But, of course he wasn’t effected. The rest of the class continued on without a hitch, and thankfully no homework was assigned for the day. Consequently, none of my precious time would be wasted. Soon enough, the bell loudly clanged, and signalled the end of the period. Next torture was advisory. At least I didn’t need to relocate. I remained in my seat, and watched the flow of students ebb, and then increase once again. Every single student was attractive, each completely different from the next, but that uniqueness just added to the charm. Strange isn’t it? Some people can’t stand anything different, but there are those who revel, even thrive in it. I don’t know why people shun the different so much. Yes the unknown breeds fear, uncertainty maybe even dislike, but only until it becomes known. There is unity in diversity after all. I kept on musing until a soft voice snapped me out of my trance. A petite, young lady with fiery red hair, and gentle emerald eyes was regarding me with a smile.

“Meega, I’m Ms. Flem. I will be your advisory instructor for this academic year. This is not actually a class, but just a free twenty minute period.”

I nodded my understanding, and thanked her. The next twenty minutes passed with me typing away on my tablet, and completely being absorbed into my own world, until the bell decided to change that course of action. Sighing, I glanced at the electronic schedule on my tablet. Wonderful, I had physical education, and I do mean that in the least sarcastic way possible. After all, it is a very unique class. You get points for breaking the conventional classroom regulations how could one not love that? The energy, adrenaline, excitement, and of course the cut throat competition. With a smile playing on my lips, I exited the class with a surprisingly upbeat attitude.

I followed the herd of juniors, and they lead me right to the gymnasium. It was the typical gym: huge, all sorts of marking and tracks on the floor, changing rooms, and bathrooms. The gym was buzzing with nonsensical chatter in all kinds of languages, predominantly Arabic. Blocking out the excessive noise, I advanced towards the changing rooms, and got dressed: black shorts, and half sleeves shirt with the school’s insignia on it. After an extra five minutes of ensuring I did have all the other necessities, I made my way over to the class. Two blonde, middle aged females with pleasant expressions on their faces introduced themselves and began the class: warm up games, two main games, and then the cool down. Unfortunately, the class wasn’t jam packed with athletes. Half was just lazy, and plain talentless. The other half was just…terribly slow. Only a fourth out of the miserable latter was capable of some skill. By skill I mean so in the simplest way possible: sprint, jog, catch and scream. Scoffing, I sat out and surveyed from the sidelines. If I was going to blend in then, well, I would seriously have to put a cap onto my physical prowess, including sight, hearing and smell. I sighed out of boredom, and continued memorizing faces, voices, and skills. They all shared a talent which was quite characteristic of teenage girls: shrieking like banshees. Said banshees shrieks reached quite the high note the moment my target walked in.

Julian Ivakshok Dragomir was a Norse god in every sense of the word: tall, toned, and quite the looker. From the way he was smirking he seemed to know it as well. Arrogant boy. Dragomir jogged over, and happily flirted with a group of harpies, and began showing off his “mad basketball skills” while they squealed. At least the reports were on point, I knew what I was dealing with, but of course that Commander didn’t bother to mention what his persona would be like. I swear that man is going to be the end of me, always adding more burden onto my head than required. I got up, and excused myself so I could go outside for air. The humid air smelt faintly of palm trees, but it was pleasant enough. Anything beats the cold, even a desert. I walked over to the cool, green football field, and sat on a white bench. So, the seemingly arrogant heir was now officially my headache. But, I have no clue about what his personality is like, and it’s just pathetic to assume based on his background. So, why not just go with the easiest way? Mercifully, the bell saved me once again, and signalled the end of the hellish day.


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