Path to Secrecy

Chosen Identification

"I still don't think it's a good idea that you're up and training this one time. I mean look at you, you're swaying on your feet and your palms are sweaty –which by the way is disgusting. Maybe we should call the nurse. Commander could we please call the nurse, this young lady doesn't seem to properly assembled to be sent into the mission. I want -"

I ran my tongue against the front of my teeth, shaking out my limbs before twisting my most precious jewel around my pinkie. "Rahul?"

Rahul paused, turning to me with a hand curious to hold onto mine. "Yes, my love?"

I turned to him and masked a droll stare. "Shut up."

Azalea snorted and the Commander shook his head, fixing the holster that was meant to be around my waist. I had informed the Commander about losing my magazine from the loosened holster I was given the last time. He instantly had it thrown out of the weaponry stock before having a new set called in as replacement for me and remaining members listed to take the mission round. Six days had gone by excruciatingly long where I was determined to have my arm back in shape before the final round or have it chewed off in frustration. From protein foods to gag worthy vitamin pills, I had tossed them down with the intention of them being my way of getting Rahul back, especially when all he'd managed to do was walk into the medical clinic every afternoon at four pm and grin, shuffling the deck of cards that was cruelly bent from my longing annoyance. Though it was supposed to be a productive day of combat training where I would put Rahul in his place, I was yet to be listed with a score in missions. Therefore obliging with a ten minute irritating wait with Rahul barking in my ear about my health, the Commander double checking each weapon and Azalea dozing off against the concrete entrance of the mission room. I was under the assumption the Spanish boy was afraid I might beat him very well in this round.

With a final click of the handgun and jamming it into the slot of my loose holster belt, Commander Bernard looked down at me. "All ready Ara – I mean Valerie?"

Rahul stared at the side of my head in shock as I nodded my head, ignoring Rahul's mutters about the Commander knowing my deepest darkest secret. "Yes Sir."

"Good. You remember the drill. Be alert, be prepared and do us proud." He nodded, offering me the belt before stepping closer to the concrete wall where a blue siren button was built. It was blank but I remembered the first day of its bewildered flashing and possessed vibrations. "Doors open in three, two -"

"Commander."

Everybody whipped their heads around, excluding myself and I could feel the warmth rising in my throat like the discrete instinct I had learnt to listen to from the moment the Venganza's had been introduced into my life. The Commander held back an irritating growl that sufficed in clarifying all our sentiments for the disturbance before lowering his hand away from the blue button. "What is it now?" He questioned and I turned to face the others.

"Call for the girl." The Sergeant stood in the middle of the hallway with a strange, arrogant pout on his face and I recognised him as the man who'd interrupted our previous class.

I frowned when I looked at him, turning till my body faced him completely. "For me?"

The Sergeant nodded and I glanced at the Commander, shrugging with confusion.

The Commander frowned at my muddle before squinting at no one in particular like he was feeling just as suss as I was. "It's alright. Go ahead - but make it quick." He warned me sternly and my eyes twitched the slightest bit. There was something more to the warning. Even the Commander had been gaining the same instinct.

I nodded, handing him my holster to hold. "Yes Sir."

I jogged to the centre, I last attended a call from Spencer, hopping onto the entrance step and looking around for the Sergeants who usually stood on guard. I almost stopped completely as I shivered a strange sense, something calling out for me to turn around and run. Instead I ignored my instinct and stepped inside, turning towards the receptionist. There was a slim lady with her back turned to me, an elbow resting against the top of the blue filing cabinet. The other chairs behind the desks were left empty and tucked in. Her hair was pulled back into a neat French bun and a black professional pant and blazer completed her outfit. I stepped closer to the desk, leaning my hands against the top.