Secrets Leave Scars [EDITING]

9 - Suffer

I yank the gun hidden in my belt and push Marcus behind me, crouching to the floor. I spot the gunman from across the street, standing behind an old dumpster. I watch Marcus's idiot bodyguards crawl towards him, bullets still flying. I aim my gun at the shooter but can't get a clear shot.

"F*ck this," I growl, inching closer. There's too many frantic people blocking my view. The other recruits have disappeared and the bodyguards are clueless. It's time to take this into my own hands.

I secure the gun back into my belt and scour the club for a back door. The doors are locked, reserved for employees or private members only, so I resort to breaking a window. I smash through a small window using the point of my high heels, and climb through. The shards of glass, prick my skin as I do. Ignoring the slight pinch on my arms, I race through the streets, coming out on the other side.

I use the wall near the dumpster as cover and aim to kill. My position is just right, aim is never an issue for me, but still something makes me hesitate. "He's a bad man," I tell myself. "Just shoot, kill him." My finger on the trigger, sweat drops down my forehead.

I readjust my aim and shoot him in the knee. He yelps in pain, dropping his weapon. I race across the dirty alley and grab the man by his collar. I shove his back up against the wall and stuff the tip of my gun in his mouth, silencing his cries. I search his body for any tattoos or marks that might indicate where he came from, before finally the bodyguards catch up.

"It's about time," I scoff at them. They grunt and take the man away from my grasp. "Hey what are you doing?" I yell.

"We're taking him in for interrogation," Marcus speaks up behind me. "Get out of here the cops will be arriving soon, I'll see you tomorrow," he says plainly, before walking off.

"Wow. Men," I scoff, rolling my eyes as I walk to my car. I speed off into the distance and head straight back to my apartment.

***

It's late but I can't fall asleep. I couldn't silence the different thoughts and emotions running around in my head. Anger because I saved Marcus's life and he couldn't even thank me. Regretful that I didn't kill the shooter when I had the chance. Useless because this mission isn't getting anywhere. How am I supposed to get close to an arrogant jerk?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I thought about my hesitation. I was ready, gun in my hand, target fixed, and I couldn't do it.

The FBI doesn't teach us to kill. We are always expected to keep our targets alive. Only in the case of self defense, can we shoot. Even then, the point is to eliminate the threat, not to kill. I never had blood on my hands until my partner, Agent Link. Now I had to, in order to fit into this mission. What kind of mafia recruit can't kill? I was prepped for this. I was told I needed to kill any other criminals I ran into. That way Marcus wouldn't have the chance to interrogate. Interrogations are much worse than a bullet to the brain. So why couldn't I do it?

I toss and turn in my bed, anger boiling my blood. This job means everything to me, it's all I have. I can't let my stupid conscience threaten my mission.

***

6am. Recruits were called in at 6am for training. My head pounds as I sit up in my giant bed. I only had one drink last night, but it felt like I was hit by a truck.

I heave myself out of bed and make my way to the closet. I slip on a long sleeved, black shirt. It's tight and has a small turtle neck. I pair it with a different pair of black heels and walk across the street.

I knock on the back door waiting for a guard to come let me in. I stare down at my watch that reads exactly 6am. "I better not be late because of his slow men," I grunt under my breath. Finally, I hear the buzz sound from the other side of the door and it pops open.

"What'd I tell you about being on time," Kol laughs, letting me past him. I roll my eyes and hurry up the stairs.

"Come on I don't have time for jokes," I say. "Give me your hand so I can open the doors or I'll cut it off myself." My face is dead serious as he lifts his hands in surrender. "Good," I grin slyly at him.

When we get to the training room, the others are lined up in front of Marcus. "Nice of you to join us," he scoffs as I rush into line.

"Your men are slow to answer the door," I spit back, annoyed. Marcus raises his brows, not pleased with my attitude.

He leans close to me so the other can't hear, "What did I tell you about me being your boss?"

"It won't happen again, sorry boss," I reply sarcastically, grinning at him. He scoffs then turns back to the group.

"Yesterday, we were surprised by an assassin," he bellows. "Not a very skilled one, but one nonetheless. The attempt on my life was obviously unsuccessful, no thanks to my idiot guards," he grunts angrily. "We were able to capture the shooter, however, and today you will all get a chance to get information from him." The other recruits smile with excitement.

My shoulders sink when I realize what this means. I'll have to interrogate the man. And not just any interrogation, I have to make him suffer.