CHAPTER 3

July 17th, 10:10 AM
Federal Bureau of Investigation, Office Block B

John entered his office. It was empty. He didn’t know what the note was about, but he didn’t care. Not as long as it was letting him go after Jade. A hand rested on his shoulder, and a consoling voice came soon after. “Hey, Big John. Sorry about all this.”

John turned around, and met Noah’s gaze. Ben stood behind him. Noah, Agent 43, was the group’s weapons specialist. He knew everything there was to know about every gun, grenade, and knife that existed. He didn’t look the part, however- his dirty blonde hair fell on an angle across his forehead, partially touching the rim of his thin glasses, giving him a boyish look. He was shorter than most of the other Agents, which somehow made John uncomfortable, but Noah took pride in it.

Noah’s partner, Ben, also gazed at John with sympathy. Ben was the tactician of the group. He had analyzed and planned out every mission John had ever been on with the FBI, and most went off without a hitch. He was only a few years older than John, but looked much older than that. He had gently greying hair, and his sad blue eyes looked sadder today.

“It’s okay, guys. We’ll get her back,” John replied to his teammates, then paused and corrected himself with, “Them.”

“We?” Noah asked.

“I went to see the big guy upstairs. He granted me permission to go along.”

Ben’s eyebrows went up. “Really? How’d you do that?”

“I don’t know,” John said with a smirk. “Ask Rebecca.”

Noah smiled. “Well anyway, that’s good news. Always good to have the whole team…together.”

Noah and John exchanged a short glance. John gave a shallow smile, turned around, and started packing for the trip. “Where’s 45 and 46?” he asked.

Noah replied, “Ethan and Faith? They’re probably already on the plane. You know how efficient they are with their time.”

CHAPTER 2

July 17th, 9:48 AM
Federal Bureau of Investigation, Elevator 5

The doors closed with a soft hum, and John pushed the button for floor 18. He thought again of Jade and wished he had been on that mission with her. He cursed himself for encouraging her to go. The night before the mission was officially offered, they had discussed it at home. As Jade was always eager to serve, and John was always eager to please her, he told her that he would support her if she chose to accept it. Inside he had hoped that Howell had another team in mind. But Jade volunteered, and John didn’t argue. This was, after all, the life they had chosen. The life of an Agent.

The Agent program was started in 1945, at the beginning of the Cold War. The White House insisted that two soldiers be chosen to be personal protectors of President Truman after the death of President Roosevelt- as rough as dealings were with many countries, the leadership figured the United States looked weak enough after loosing one president, and they refused to let it happen twice in one term. The soldiers who were chosen, however, complained that their talents were being wasted; they had been taken from the Marines Corps. and told they had been chosen for a high-priority “mission,” but were disappointed when it turned out to be little more than bodyguard duty. After a few years and the creation of the Department of Defense, the NSC, and the CIA, the bodyguards were “discarded”- sent to the FBI.

The FBI wasted no time in sending their new recruits on dangerous errands all over the world; intel. recon. against the Ho Chi Minh, HQ strikes in North Korea, secret nuclear disarmament as many places as possible. They did well, and the Bureau asked for more teams such as this one. They made the program into an official branch in the FBI, simply calling them “Agents,” and always kept four teams active. It all began very secretively, and the recruits’ identities were erased and replaced with numbers- Agent 01, Agent 02, and so on. They were each given one partner to work with for their entire service, a single person to depend on in everything they did. They were mostly all considered equal, but buried somewhere deep within the philosophies of the Agent Program, it was assumed that the lower the number, the higher the rank.

As time went on, the secrecy of the program itself diminished, but the numbers were kept as a reminder of their elitism- in 60 years, only 46 men and women had called themselves Agents, and they respected that. Unfortunately, due to the constantly dangerous situations they were placed in, many of the Agents had been killed in action- a statistic never repeated between the Agents themselves. But regardless of the danger, each one cherished what they did for each other and for their country.

The elevator bell hummed softly, and John stepped into the hallway that led to the office of the Director of the FBI. Rebecca had left a note on his desk that said the men upstairs owed her a favor- though it did not say what for- and that he should take his battle to them so they could return her favor by allowing him to go. He arrived at a secretary’s desk.

“‘Morning John,” the secretary said with a smile.

“Hi Samantha.” He did not return the gesture. “Can I see the Director?”

“Hold on,” she said, keying a button on her phone and asking, “Sir?”

There was a pause. She asked John how Jade was. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. He knew that Samantha had feelings for him, and it somehow made it hard for him to talk to her.

“Yes Ms. Mason?” a deep voice echoed through the phone speaker and into the marble hall.

She keyed her phone again. “Agent 41 is here to see you.”

Another pause, then, “Send him in.”

John forced a quick smile, then pushed past the desk and into the nicest office in the building. The Director sat behind a large mahogany desk and stared at a mass of papers. He looked at his visitor.

“I heard about agents 39 and 40.”

“Yes, sir. You’ve allowed a search and rescue.”

“I know what I’ve ‘allowed,’ Agent.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you come to tell me what orders I’ve signed, or does this visit have some sort of use?” The aging man narrowed his eyes at the Agent.

John hated this. “Sorry sir. I’ve come to request permission to go along with my team.”

“Denied. You should have already been told that. Consider yourself lucky, Agent. If it weren’t for Howell backing you up, both you and your little girlfriend would have been relieved of duty long ago. I’ve tolerated your relationship. But you know exactly why you’re staying here. Dismissed.”

John’s teeth clenched. “I have a written request from Agent 42. I’m…not sure what it’s for, but she said to give it to you.” He held the note up, but the Director didn’t take it.

“Agent 42. Which one’s that?”

“Rebecca Mitchell, sir. My partner.”

The man’s narrow eyes slowly widened. He took the paper and stared at it. There was a long silence, and he took a deep breath. “You want to go along, do you?” He did not make eye contact.

“Sir. I feel responsi-”

“Save it.”

John’s mouth closed. He watched his superior pull a sheet of paper from a drawer and take out a pen. He began writing. John recognized it as a mission order.

“Give this to Howell.” The FBI Director’s voice had suddenly lowered. “And if I were you, son, I wouldn’t come back here for a long time.”

CHAPTER 1

July 17th, 8:06 AM
Spring Glen Apartments, Room 4E

John Porter opened his eyes to the plain white ceiling. The room was quiet. He had discarded his alarm clock long ago, as his biological clock had taken over his sleeping patterns. For a moment he smiled, expecting to look to the side and see his lover next to him, but the smile faded as he remembered going to bed alone. She was half way around the world.
***
His coffee was bitter, as usual. He dumped the last half of his mug in the sink and headed for the door. He paused at the mirror to look himself over. His suit fit his muscular build well, his short dark hair gelled just enough to keep it in place. He stared into his own dark eyes for a moment and took a breath- but he didn’t want to be late for work again. The hierarchs at the Bureau had seemed to be watching him more closely lately.
***
July 17th, 9:14 AM
Federal Bureau of Investigation, Office Block B

The sensors had gone off again. And again, the security center had to search him. Of course they did…he was late again. They should be over it by now, but they insisted on using that hand-held metal detector that he hated. The worst part about it was that every time the sensor alarms went off, it did nothing but remind him of why they went off in the first place.

Three years ago, John and his partner, Rebecca Mitchell, went on their first assignment together. It was part of a routine background check at a civilian woman’s house that should have taken no more than ten minutes- ask a few questions, get some information, and perhaps fill out some paperwork when they got back. It had gone along fine at first, until the woman’s son freaked out at the presence of the FBI. Having recently been involved in the theft of a few televisions from a local electronics store, he assumed John and Rebecca had come to arrest him, and subsequently ran out of the house yelling. John had chased the child, caught up with him, and brought him to the ground, but the boy got hold of a rock and made contact with John’s head.

The thief was arrested and placed in a work program for underage criminals, and John spent the next three weeks in a hospital getting a 2” metal plate put in his head to bandage his cracked skull. The Bureau knew this of course, but orders were to check anyone and everyone who set off an alarm. And John set it off every day.

He was soon past the checkpoint and nearing his and Rebecca’s office. Maybe Howell hadn’t seen him come in late. Maybe he could edit his timesheet. Maybe he-

John stopped. In the far corner of the office area was a glass-walled soundproof briefing room where all the high-importance meetings were held. Normally this room was empty. But today, John counted no less than six people in it. One of them, in front of the others, was Victor Howell, Director of Counterintelligence for the Bureau. His boss. He also recognized Rebecca even though she faced away from him- her shiny brown hair neatly cropped around her neck- and a few other fellow Agents. They turned their heads. Howell was looking at him.

John turned and jogged into his office. How had he missed a meeting? The others never got called to a conference without him, especially his own partner- he outranked every Agent in that room. It must have just been called this morning. He cursed to himself, pacing his office. Why did he always have to be late? And what was so important that they called an emergency conference, without even waiting for him?

“Hey John.”

He didn’t have to turn to know who was standing in the doorway, but he did so eagerly.

“Rebecca, what’s going on?” He asked quickly, then added as an afterthought, “Am I in trouble?”

Her tone was unnaturally calm. John knew she usually had no problem taking control of a situation or giving orders in her regular commanding way, but she seemed different suddenly. “No, you’re not in trouble,” she replied, “but Victor wants to talk to you. He just wants to give you the details, like he did for the rest of us, but he wanted you to hear it from me first.”

He was suddenly more scared than nervous. “Hear what?” He stared back at her, but she didn’t respond. “Hear what?”

“Agents 39 and 40 didn’t report back to their scheduled pick-up this morning.”

John was silent for a moment. Then he whispered, “Jade.”

“Howell ordered an exact GPS recon, but no signals came back. They…must have turned their trackers off.”

There was more silence. John had a hundred questions, but he knew Rebecca had already told him everything she knew. They never kept anything from each other.

“Howell’s waiting for you in the briefing room.”

John took one last look at her, nodded, and slowly moved forward. “Thank you.” Turned them off? No Agent turned off their locaters, even in the hands of the enemy. They simply discarded them, or placed them somewhere to help the Bureau find them. There was no need worry. Not yet. Jade was the best Agent alive. She had never failed a mission, not even in training. Her record was perfect. She was the most intelligent person he knew. Sure something went wrong, but nothing she couldn’t get out of…he hoped. He arrived at the briefing room.

Howell stood behind a podium, looking over some papers. Victor Howell was an older man, at least 70, though John had never asked him his age. Much of his hair was gone, but the ring that circled his head was nearly white. He was slightly overweight, but had the look of a man who was once strong and agile. He had served in his early FBI days as an Agent himself, designated Agent 25, and was one of the few agents to survive through his entire career and remain fit for work in the FBI. He looked up and removed his thin glasses as John entered.

John stood still, hands behind his back. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Porter, yes, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand, sir.”

The director looked at him with worry in his eyes. Howell was the kind of man who believed relationships could be placed aside when other important matters were involved, but he also respected his Agents- he had, after all, hand-picked every one of them. “Very well. Mitchell told you what happened?”

“She told me we’ve lost contact with Agents 39 and 40, sir.” He kept his voice steady.

“That’s correct. That’s the bad news. The good news is, I’ve already submitted another mission order to the boys upstairs. They’re allowing a search and rescue. Agents will be shipping out at 1400 hours.”

“Very good, sir,” John said, anticipation creeping into his voice, “I’ll be ready.” He turned and started back to his office.

“Porter.”

Howell’s voice had hardened suddenly, causing John to jump slightly. He turned back to face his superior. “Sir?”

“I’m not finished.” He paused before giving the worst of the news. “You won’t be joining the others on this mission. Agents 42 through 46 will be executing it without you. You’re to remain in the office until further notice. Dismissed.”

John didn’t move. He was almost too overwhelmed simply because Jade was MIA, but for him to be denied the chance to look for her… “Sir-”

“I’m sorry, Porter. Dismissed.”

John took a quick breath, gave a curt nod, and started again toward his office. Rebecca was still there. She was sitting on his desk, looking relaxed, although for an Agent, “relaxed” still involved a straight back and tense muscles. John had grown used to seeing women “at attention,” since most of his life revolved around his work and his fellow Agents, but that look never seemed to fit his partner. Even with her impressive muscles and toned body, she still looked to John like she should be a stay-at-home mother. It must be, he assumed, the care he always saw in her eyes. She spoke first. “Anything I can do for you?”

John was still in shock. It didn’t make sense. He was one of the best Agents Howell had. Why wasn’t he allowed to go?

As if reading his thoughts, Rebecca continued, “He thinks your relationship with Jade will endanger your judgment, should anything go wrong.”

“You’re going?”

She was silent for a moment. “Yes.”

“I’m your partner. No Agent has ever gone on a mission without their partner.”

“I know you’re not going to like this, but…I agree with him.”
His eyes widened. “Becky-”

“You love her, Jonathan. And I know what that’s like. It can change the way someone thinks, regardless of whether or not they think it can. Jade is an amazing Agent, and a close friend. I don’t know many people like her. And Evan is lost out there too. We owe it to them to do everything we can to get them back. God knows how many times they’ve saved our lives. Yours and mine. I abhor the notion of leaving without you, but…”

“You know me better than this, Becky. Yes I’m scared to death that something’s happened to her, but you know as well as I do that you and I make a better team than Noah and Ben or Ethan and Faith. We could do this alone for God’s sake.”

“John. As your friend, I wish there was a way you could come. But as your second-in-command and a fellow officer, I have to agree with Howell. I won’t fight for this.” She was quiet for a moment before looking deep into his eyes and repeating, “I won’t fight for this.” Her fingers, which were spread out on the desk, twitched slightly. Over the years of working together, John and Rebecca had gotten to know each other better than any of the other teams. The slightest “unnatural” movement always meant something. And Rebecca wasn’t one to twitch.

She got off his desk and moved around to her own. She sat and opened a file Howell had given her. John looked back to his desk, where her fingers had been. There was a small folded piece of paper there. She didn’t look up at him for a while.

PROLOGUE

Jade crouched in the shadows.

Not that she had much of a choice; the entire building was dark, hiding her every movement. She silently motioned to her partner to move up. In the hazy world of her Nightvisor lenses, she saw Agent 40 stride in front of her to the next green file cabinet. He paused, watching the doorway of their destination; the War Room. He motioned back, and Jade made her way toward the door.

It was larger than it looked from the distance across the room. A foggy reflection of her masked face stared back at her from the smooth, cold surface of the door. Evan appeared next to her.

“Schematics said this is the only lock,” he said, reaching for a keypad near the handle.

Though he stood right next to her, she heard the voice only as a whisper through her earpiece. She nodded, motioning him to get them through. He knelt next to her and attached a similar keypad to the one on the door.

Jade looked back across the room. At the far end were the welcoming double doors they had just passed, followed by the open rows of wooden desks and filing cabinets that were perpendicular to the windows overlooking the city. She thought it odd that the material they had come here for would be “hidden” in a place so…friendly.

“Half way there,” said the whisper.

She thought of John, imagined where he was at that moment…probably eating lunch in the cool cafeteria back home, or perhaps jogging in the gym. Lucky dog. Not that she wouldn’t rather be working; this job was her passion. She just wished he was with her. Unfortunately, the safety of her home, her country, her life was at stake, and she was the first to volunteer her team. America first. Happiness second. What was taking so long?

“Got it.” Evan stood, pressed a button on his keypad, and the door unlocked with a click.

“Nice work,” Jade whispered back, and reached for the handle. On any other mission, she would have expected an alarm to go off. But not tonight. Up to this point, things had been too easy. She pulled the door open without hesitation, and walked inside.

“Easy 39,” came the voice in her ear, “This is the only room we don’t have intel. on.”

They had reached their destination. It was just as dark as the rest of the building, except for the small red and green lights blinking along the walls. Her lenses adjusted slightly for the change of ambiance, and she approached the computers that lined the edge of the room. “Which one?” she asked her partner.

“One of them has to be a master. Building plans said this room is completely sealed except for the doors, so the systems must only be linked in here.”

Jade found it immediately. “There,” she said, pointing toward the corner. A single monitor was larger than the rest, and sat upon a separate table. They made their way to it.

“Alright, let’s get these documents and get out of here. I don’t like being dead-ended.” Evan always preferred fighting to be outside, should there be any, so the 30th- story, single-door room hardly appealed to him. Not that she could blame him. Now that they were inside, she began getting nervous.

“Almost too easy, 39.”

She heard his smile. “We’re not out of here yet, 40.”

“John would be proud.”

“John would be jealous.” She reveled in that for a moment. John was five years ahead of her in the Bureau, but she never missed a chance to gloat. Besides, she outranked him by default.

Evan pulled his mask and Nightvisor off, so the monitor light wouldn’t hurt his eyes. Jade did the same, her straight, dark hair falling perfectly into place like it always did. She watched her partner pull out another electronic device as he reached for the terminal.

Evan turned on the monitor.

Game over.

Blinding lights illuminated the room, outdone only by the alarms that filled the air. The agents jumped, finding themselves caught off guard at first, but before their next heartbeat, they were already half way back across the room. Jade sprinted back through the doors first, heading straight for the exit on the opposite end. She clenched her mask, careful not to drop it- the Nightvisor included American technology. Most of their equipment did, and they had specific instructions not to leave anything behind on missions. File cabinets blurred by, and they barely made it through the doors when they heard footsteps and orders being commanded from an adjacent hall.

The stairwell was through the door just beyond that hall. As they raced by, Jade turned her head slightly to see what was coming- no less than thirty feet down that corridor was a team of soldiers, or what she assumed were soldiers due to their uniforms and weapons, running straight for them. She looked farther back, saw Evan right behind her, and looked forward again in time to see the stairwell door directly in front of her face. They both jumped the entire first case, turned on the landing, and continued. Jade heard the many footsteps thundering too closely behind her.

What went wrong? They had followed protocol to the letter. How could they have known why were there soldiers in the building already they must have known we were coming oh God I’ve failed a mission whose lives have I lost-

Jade plunged into the first floor lobby. She never stopped running, but immediately saw the problem that lay ahead. They had come in through a delivery entrance that led them directly onto the second floor in the back of the building- they hadn’t gotten a chance to go back that way because of their pursuers. A hundred feet away from her were the glass front doors. They were no doubt locked. She could attempt to shoot them out, but this was a high-security building. They were probably shatter-proof. Another exit where is it where do we go they’re right behind us thirty more feet to decide-

An echoing crack filled her ears, the reverberation of a bullet fired from behind her. She leaped over a security desk and hit the floor. Without Evan. She looked toward the doors- she saw her crouched reflection, and above that, four ghostly soldiers, guns raised. No Evan. Had they shot him?

“Stand!”

A delicate but overpowering voice echoed throughout the lobby. A woman’s voice that sounded too pure to ever be tainted with violence. Jade didn’t move. She looked again toward her exit, just as a dozen more soldiers ran to the doors and stopped, guns raised. One of them had a key.

She swallowed.

“Stand!”

The agent slowly raised herself up as the enemy poured through the doors and spread out around her. The cyanide pill was in her chest pocket- she could reach for it, but she supposed it wouldn't matter. Not with this many guns pointed at her. She turned to face the voice that hurts what is it was I shot- her eyes moved to the high-windowed ceiling. It seemed darker than it should have been.

Quick disclaimer...

Once again, I don't expect this to be anything spectacular. And try not to get too attached, as I worry that I may not follow through. BUT- let's give it a go, shall we? Oh, and sorry about the title. Maybe that'll change someday. Watch for updates on Mondays. Action!