Samuel Enderson. That’s my name.
And yes. The Enderson.
Hence the name ESA, Enderson Secret Agency Association, the biggest secret agency organization in the world.
In ESA, we catch the bad guys in our own way. The police’s ways are different than ours. They let the law and the government take control of them, and that, to me, sounds extremely manipulative.
I’m not bragging, but our agents have ten times the skill of a whole police department in Central City.
Each agent is strictly trained in camp underground. They’re taught several fighting techniques, every style of Chinese boxing ever mastered, how to handle a gun, how to defect a bomb, how to blend in, how to lie.
How to disappear.
We have one strict policy. Just one. Never let anyone see you.
We’re anonymous. We live in the shadows. We don’t do friendships.
Every person for himself.
I stride through the long and narrow gray halls of the agency, past the initiation room and the weapons gallery, into the head office. I slightly open the door and peek my head in:
“Dad, can I come in?”
“Mmm.” He mumbles.
My dad personally taught me everything he knew. Thirty years of experience and surviving a planted bomb in his heart made him a legend among everyone.
All of this can come in handy when your dad co-owns the biggest spy agency in the world.
I sat on the gray couch just facing his desk. Papers littered his desk. Half empty coffee mugs were toppled all over each other. A nasty smell of deodorant roamed the place.
“I just trained a bunch of newbies earlier like you told me to, and I personally went through the rules and guidelines plus the ESA oath with them.” I leaned in excitedly.
He just stared into my eyes for what seemed like forever, before grunting something I didn’t quite hear in response. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes were darker than ever.
“You better fix the water problem, too. Can’t go to the bathroom without it spraying all over my shirt.”
I nod. I heave myself off of the couch and head out. I glance one last look at him, and slam the door shut.
All these skills I know, and I still seem to somehow disappoint him. Ever since he and mom drifted slowly apart, he always seemed to be in a trance. Always shouts at the bodyguards. Always fires agents.
Always something in his mind.
He used to be this funny, bubbly ginger head, who’d crack jokes all the time. Now, there isn’t that spark in him anymore. And I’m starting to think he won’t come back from this miserable state.
I wanted to prove to him that I’m a good son. A useful one, even. I wanted him to be proud of me so badly, that I would do anything to prove so.
And what did my dumbass do?
I thought that hijacking an agent’s mission to capture the greatest evil there is that we have been trying to catch for the last ten years and do it myself is the best way to make my dad proud.
Go big or go home.
So, here I am, wandering around in this humungous mall, waiting for him to strike.
Not once did we fail a mission. Until now.
I look up at the clear sky.
There’s always a first time for everything.