She was afraid to come out of the locker. She was afraid that somebody would see. She was afraid to come out of the locker. She was afraid…
She was afraid.
She was leaving the locker room with significantly less than she wanted to. She had nothing – nothing – left from her tac gear. It was her first mission in plainclothes, but that didn’t mean the agency was making it easy on her.
Her lack of a name in her assignment folder meant that this would not be allowed to be a long game. Either her mark would die tonight or she would be taken out by the agency. Employees who didn’t live up to the expectations of the agency were cut. They were cut into pieces and fed to animals in front of the friends they had made on the job. It sent a message: “This could be you someday.”
She pranced over to the volleyball net where a frat for some college was playing. She tripped and “fell” over the PVC barrier around the makeshift field, landing directly on top of Harold Quincy Williams the third. His pink board shorts and dyed-blond hair were all the information she had been given about his appearance. Luckily, no one else on the beach was as horrendously styled as this man.
She came close, though. Her swimsuit was about twenty years out of style and she personally believed that it clashed with her hair. A pair of polka dots aligned directly with where the centers of her nipples rested underneath. She determined that when she finished her job she would fix up the closet she and her coworkers were allowed to choose from.
She gazed into Harold’s eyes. He gazed back. They bonded over the swimsuits their friends had tricked them into buying.
Later that afternoon they ditched Harold’s friends to go back to his house. She left after a few hours, waving goodbye to the maid. Harold slept peacefully in the middle of his California King.
At ten PM, after the maid had come and cleaned Harold’s room while he dozed, the girl snuck back into Harold’s room through a window and slit his throat.
She had earned her place as a field agent.
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