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( CHAPTER ONE )
THE ALARM BLARED THROUGH THE HOUSE, bouncing off the walls and quick to grate on her ears. She supposed it at least had the desired effect of catching her attention despite the headache inducing sound: dropping her blowtorch to the ground, Arden scrambled to her feet and raced to the control room. The five screens placed on the desk were all displaying the same, blinking message: perimeter breach. She muttered a curse.
Her head started to pound as the alarm seemed to grow louder and louder. She tapped quickly on the keyboard and the sound cut off suddenly, which earned a relieved sigh from the girl. The feeling was cut short by the wave of panic that clouded her vision for a few seconds as realization set in: her safe house was safe no more, and someone was coming for her.
Arden swallowed even if it felt like sandpaper down her throat, and bent over the desk, where the glaring screens of the computers were showing multiples views of her house. Each frame appeared empty.
It wasn't possible. She had set those cameras herself, had made sure that there were no blind spots left out: either the intruder was that good, or she was dealing with some Paranormal Activity shit she did not need right now. Slamming her fist in frustration on the surface of the desk, Arden swore again, loudly this time. She opened the first drawer to her left and felt her fingers wrap around the metallic handle of her gun: with a lump in her throat, she took the weapon out and held it almost reluctantly in her left hand.
Should have practiced more, she thought almost off-handedly. The gun felt cold, heavy and unfamiliar under her touch. Back with S.H.I.E.L.D. she had never been much of a field agent, just knew enough to pass the basics. She had always preferred to stay cooped up in her lab, tinkering on all kind of things. Arden could have taken the gun in her hand apart in a few minutes, but she was to all intents and purposes a lousy shot.
As she made her way through the eerily silent house, she glanced outside: her eyes scanned quickly the backyard and stopped on the pick-up parked just right out of the backdoor. Her only chance at escaping, if she wanted to avoid hiking through the woods of Maryland with nothing but a handgun. Arden's hold on the weapon tightened when she heard the front door open with a soft click, meaning the lock had been picked.
The fact that no one came barging in and shouting, ready to take her head off in a show of blood and grey matter, made the hair of her arms stand painfully. What was the intruder's game? To catch her unprepared? They had to know she wasn't someone dangerous: for all her work with S.H.I.E.L.D, she had never been in the middle of a fight, not even by mistake. It was almost embarrassing, in hindsight.
