Director’s Origins

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⚔︎Definition⚔︎

⚡︎ "C'mon now Jake, don't y'think you're flyin' just a little off the handle?"

"I lost count on how many times I had t'deal with this shit!"

"I know, I know, but he's just a kid."

"That /kid/ of yours shoved another just because he made a few wisecracks on the boy's height. He then threw him t'the ground an' continued to clock'm until someone was brave enough t'pull him off!"

"I can't explain it, he's got a real bad temper I told ya how many times."

"It's over with Matteo. He's off the team for the rest of the season an' that's final. An' if he wants t'come back next year he better straighten up his act or he's banned."

Closing his eyes and heaving out a sigh, Matteo nodded slowly and then turned around with crossed arms and headed back. Dropping his arms to his sides he strolled over to a young Conner whose eyes flashed right up to him. Only slight guilt and worry were in them, but not much. Justifying that he didn't feel too sorry for what he had done.

"Well?"

"Off the team, also t'straighten up or you're banned."

"Banned?! What the hell does that even mean?! I go t'this school too!"

"Easy, y'ain't favored at the moment, pull another stunt an' you're really screwed."

Rolling his eyes Conner walked with his father back out of the football field and off the property. The walk back home was quiet, as Conner just glared down at his feet as they made it over to the row-home. Once the front door was open Conner rushed right up the steps to his room and slammed the door.

Right as his mother was entering the back door with his little brothers, just having picked them up from school. Penelope flinched at the slam and glanced up and then told the boys to do homework.
Looking over to Matteo and walking over to him. Hearing a loud crash from Conner's bedroom.

"What happened?"

Penelope asked her husband as another crash was heard. Matteo shook his head.

"Oh, nothin' just beat a kid t'the ground 'cuz they called'm short."

Penelope sigh and shook her head, looking down before back up to him again.

"I got it this time."

"I'll help the twins."

Both of them nodded and Penelope chuckled a second before shaking her head fondly. Turning up to the staircase and heading up. Going down the hall and over to Conner's door. Reaching for the handle and opening up the door.

"Aw, not your little league trophy."

Saying as she bent down and picked up the now two broken pieces. Huffing a short sigh she placed them onto the shelf by the door and stepped inside closing the door behind her. Leaning on it she loosely crossed her arms.

"Heard what happened today."

"He knew he had it comin'! Kept callin' me an elf an' some bullshit! Then got in m'face so I had to shut'm up!"

Belting out as he shoved more things off of his shelf and onto the floor.

"Honey, baby, little love of my life. Y'need to try and calm down."

"Y'really struck gold with this one! Ain't that what you an' grandma always say!"

Letting out Conner put his arms out to the sides and fell onto his bed.

"Now, you're bein' overdramatic."

Penelope let out as she uncrossed her arms and pushed off the door. Walking over and sitting next to her firstborn on his bed. Looking over to Conner.

"Look, I dunno what happened with ya. I guess your genes mutated an' created this... temper straight outta hell. Blamin' mostly your dad's Scottish gene, those people throw trees at each other."

"Y'mad?"

"Oh yeah, mad that this ain't as shockin' as it should be. Conner, that was quite the episode y'had, ya gotta try harder next time on y'know. Not, doin' that."

"But he went-"

"I know, he shoulda known better too. But, he didn't act out as you did, /he/ is still out there on the football field gettin' t'play."

Conner exhaled out a long sigh and slowly pulled himself to sit back up again. Slightly slumping forward as he sat.

"An' I know that ironic little 'struck gold' sayin' is on me... mostly your grandmother. But, so what. It's a part of ya I know, but it ain't all you are, only a small portion. Conner, ya gotta remember that you are not your temper. Your temper does not define who you are." ⚡︎

The last sentence from his mother echoed on repeat in his mind as he remembered that time. At only seventeen he was supposed to believe that, to believe that his temper was just a small part of him. That it wasn't what made him who he was.
It did not define him.

However, that was what he was being told over and over in the CIA. Having it bulleted into his brain that his temper was the godsend of his existence. They worshipped it as well as the kid who possessed it. Thinking that they could let it loose on the field and cause serious damage for their own personal twisted little game.

Flaunting him around to show the others 'look what we have' some trophy person who could take on and destroy anything in his path. A force that couldn't be tamed or slowed down by anyone or anything. A dangerous and indestructible being that wasn't afraid of anything at all. The list could continue on and on and on, and none of it would define who Conner really was.

It was plain and simple, he was a person. A person with a lot of fire inside him. A person that was hard to control when ignited. A person who had raged, no patience, and could be intolerable, but still a person. Someone who was seen as a natural-born leader, with many different dimensions of who they were.

Someone whose heart was bigger and much more fragile than he'll ever understand. Someone terrified to have to take on the responsibility of an entire base and flock of agents all on his own all while still so young.
A person who hated the fact that the CIA refused to see who he was.

"Take a good look at good look at these credentials in front of you now."

The CEO of the New York base of the CIA was in and over at the Executives building. Each one of them had gathered around together on the top floor. Looking over as a projector was extended down from the ceiling, showing a picture of Conner on the left side of it, his charting and scores on the write and his name across the top.

McAlister, Conner Link

Date of Birth: February 5th
Height: 5'10"(177.8cm), Weight: 183lbs(83 kg), Speed: 100/100, Strength: 100/100, Agility: 100/100
Stamina Rank: High, Weapons Level: Expert, Hand to Hand Combat Level: Expert

"Magnificent isn't it? Those scores are all the way to the top and he's only been an agent five years."

"With all due respect, Ms. CEO but isn't he kinda... small? How much damage could he really do?"

One of the young assistants of the Executives had asked.

"Allow me to show you."

The CEO took the remote and switched off of the profile of Conner and over to a surveillance video. The video clip showing Conner out in the field fighting on a mission a few months back. Taking advantage of his smaller stature to climb up onto a ledge, then push off and land onto the back of an opponent. Grabbing hold of them tightly and snapping their neck. Then hopping off as they fell to the ground.

"My god."

"Exactly, uses that to his advantage. I tell you, nothing stops this kid. Now, with him in charge of the base, he could turn the other agents into that as well. Making the whole base of the CIA a line of lethal agents willing to take on anything that comes their way."

There were still a few more days until the agents were to all arrive and Conner was pacing around his office. He had no idea what the first thing he was meant to do really was. There was no way he was to run the base well, there just wasn't. Still, there was no choice and him walking out again would only make him feel worse. It was a lot different now, he knew the kids' faces, parts of their background and where it was they came from. Their actual homes before having to he trapped in the base for who knows how long.

All of it was rushing over to him fast and Conner barely had any time to think. Shaking his head he walked over to his desk chair and fell right into it. Letting out a loud groan as he did so. Then he turned to his computer and booted it up. Looking to the screen he situated himself in the chair better and reached for the mouse. He had complete access to everything in the base, it was a little overwhelming and exciting at the same time.

Right in front of his eyes, he could see everything and all that went on in the base. He had everyone's file and everything about them. He could even figure out their blood-type, it was the CIA after all and they kinda had to know that. Blinking some he clicked the icon on the screen and dove right in.

Clicking over to the profiles, he scrolled through the older ones first.
Furrowing his brows a little as he saw an all too familiar chilling name. 'Jones'. Hesitantly he glided the mouse on the pad and clicked the profile. Looking over, he was fifteen years younger than she was when she was first promoted. Reading that alone nearly took his breath away. Shaking his head he read some of her backgrounds and she had excelled and then took the promotion by force.

Showing that she was always messed up in the head. It also showed when she watched Conner for two years straight before roping him in, which made him feel uneasy. To the point where he clicked out of her profile.

Rolling his eyes he looked over and stumbled upon Baker's profile. Perking up a side of his lips to half-smile he couldn't resist. Clicking his profile he looked through everything. His scores were incredible and he always looked like a person that could do anything.

It made him wonder how /he/ was able to pin him back the day he met him. Maybe there was still more to Conner to be discovered. But, he didn't let that enter his mind at all as he read more on Baker. Seeing how amazing of a fighter and agent he was. Getting caught up into it, he did a double-take as he stumbled over something that threw him off. Leaning a little closer to the screen he reread that over.

The Director position was originally meant for Baker, not Jones. She threatened the Executives and the CEO herself to get the title. Setting Conner back a little bit his furrowed his brows as he read that part of the profile background. No wonder Baker grew cold and hated Jones.

She tormented and walked all over him to get her own way. Toying him around like some kind of degraded sidekick. Now it made perfect sense why /he/ was the one who trained the agents, and why in the end he was the first one to take her down and walk out once and for all. Baker was a couple of years younger than Jones, which only added to how immature and disgusting she really was.

Conner took a moment and clicked back out. Sitting back in his chair and heaving out a long exhale, shaking his head slowly to the new things he had now figured out. All of it was a whirlwind coming in quick and Conner was trying his best to keep upright then.

Looking back over to the screen again he scrolled through some more. Feeling his hand go stiff as he read another all too familiar name.
Adler.

Breathing out he went over and clicked the profile. No surprise at all his scores was also incredible. Everything about him was, or at least that was what Conner believed at first. An amazing flawless fighter, strong, agile, aerial, capable of taking on anything that came his way. He helped make Conner the person he was today. Loyal, caring, trustworthy, and forgiving.

It made no sense to him why he left. Conner closed his eyes and shut them tight, shaking his head. Conner had become his best friend and soon fell in love with him, only to have him walk away. Why did he walk away? Why?!

Heaving out a sigh he pushed the chair out and stood back up. Hearing a knock on his door he rolled his eyes and crossed over to it, unlocking it and opening it. Looking over to find one of the assistants standing there.

"What."

"To the Executive's office, they have the hard-drive for the new agent profiles ready for you."

Opening the door more, Conner moved over and stepped out of his office over to the other end of the hall.

The assistant looked around at the office and wandered inside, which would be a dangerous move if Conner was right there. Going over to the windows she looked out to the view and then caught sight of the computer screen. Still having Damian's profile pulled up.

Reading the name and remembering an order, she went over and typed 'rogue' on his status and then hit send. Flinching as she heard footfalls, seeing as Conner came back.

"What are you doing here?!"

Saying out in a harsh tone.

"Sorry, I was just looking around."

"You are not permitted t'be in here unless I say so! Didn't the higher-ups tell ya that? Do not let it happen again understood?!"

With a nod and a 'yessir' she was back out, and Conner shut the door loudly behind her. Huffing out a sigh he shook his head and went to his desk. Tossing the hard-drive on it, and glancing at the screen. Once again doing a double-take as he read it.

Large eyes growing wider as he read Damian's status, it said 'agent' and now it said 'rogue'. Conner kept it agent on purpose so they wouldn't target him. When an agent goes rogue they automatically get tagged by the CIA as a threat. Meaning if they found him, they may try and kill him.

"No!"

Yelling out Conner moved about frantically and clicked the screen. Trying to change it back, but it was no use as it was already saved and sent to the higher-ups and the CEO.

"No! No, no, no!"

Yelling more he kicked his chair and pushed the computer off of the desk. It didn't matter how angry he was at him for what he did. He would never dream of placing him in danger, falling out of love with him he still cared. He still wanted him as safe as possible and /alive/. Now he was targeted by the CIA and they were to try to track him down. Conner placed his hands to the sides of his temples and yelled out.

"Damnit! Why did I leave the fuckin' door open!"

Groaning Conner turned back and ran out of his office, down the hall and over to the Executives office. Not bothering to knock or anything like that. Once he saw the handle he grasped it and flew through the door. However, he didn't move or anything.

Eyes scanning the room and wandering around. No one was in there, and there were all sorts of files all around the place. Scattered all around the tables and desktops. Slowly, wandering further into the room he continued to let his eyes scan around the premises. Seeing different names, seeing the names of the old members, and the new agents that were to come. Walking over to one of the tables he took a random file of one of the new agents to come.

Opening it and checking the picture paper-clipped at the edge. Then skimming the file a moment, nothing was changed nor added which was confusing. They had all of these files but weren't doing anything to them. Whatever was really going on had a creepy and eerie vibe in the air throughout the room. Lightly furrowing his brows Conner closed the file and set it back down.

Walking over to the main desk of the office and finding another file folder on the top. Immediately catching his attention as it was /his/ file. Eyes grew harsh as Conner reached for his file and picked it up. Slowly opening it and skimming the inside. His heart fell right to the floor.
'Number One Asset'
Plastered in red ink at the top of his file.

Shaking his head as he reread that over and over again. The final word was what threw him into a spiral. That really was all Conner was to them. Scanning through the rest of the file there were markings all over it. Weapons outlines, terms of being a trophy, a 'Star Director' all of it was making him sick.

Nearly setting the file down a paper poked out, and by curiosity, Conner took out. Seeing it and reading that it was Jones' old Killing Machine plan. One almost like his dream, but not as scary or cruel luckily. However, they had the plans to hook him up and rate his nerves, figuring out what made his temper tick and what it took to let it loose. As well as some plans of some injection to boost his temper with some steroid.

Conner wanted to vomit as he read all of the awful things. They literally wanted to harvest his temper and not only that but /boost/ it up somehow. Shaking his head he took no hesitations to rip the paper into pieces and shove the remains in his pocket. Hearing footsteps coming near, Conner dashed out of the office and took his file with him. Still feeling sick, all he wanted to do was scream and possibly hit something.

But, he knew he couldn't so he buried it and ran back to his own office before being seen. Going to shut his door and then lock it behind himself. Heaving out a long sigh he couldn't believe what he was holding, and the things that were inside. Sprinting over to his desk and sinking into his chair he looked over at the file and his scoring.

A little shocked on how high they were, even more, shocked to find them better than Damian's.
He crept right back into his mind again, he was out there and was a rogue. Targeted by the CIA, and it was Conner's fault. Not to mention that Damian was right all along. Conner really was a walking weapon that the CIA wanted to toy with. But, now that he knew their twisted plans, he was going to make sure to do something about it.

They weren't going to stop making new plans and Conner knew that, but he was still going to try all that he could. All while being the Director of Agents and taking care of and training all of them.

Pressure only seemed to continue to be added on top of Conner and it was so much to take on. Shaking that off he set his file down on his desk and looked it over again. Seeing all of the things about his rage and temper, how much they praised it. To them it was everything, and Conner would never understand that.

His mother's words of it not defining him came back to the surface of his mind. But the more he looked at the file, the more unclear the words were becoming.
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