Agent Rogue

Chapter 1

It started on a cruise ship.

         Amber lights cascaded down onto the walls and floors of the busiest deck on the ship, giving the casino a rich, golden glow. I marveled at the promotion the designer had certainly received in return for this magnificence, but it was not for the crystal chandelier that hung like a myriad of melting ice that caught my eye; it was the royal impression the aura of the room injected into the veins of eager gamblers.

         To someone unaware of its true purpose, the casino would have given the face of a palace. It made the gamblers feel important – full of themselves, maybe – and only one group of people sprung to mind when thinking of importance: the rich. Those gamblers felt rich and regal as royals! So much that money slipped from their fingers as though coated in butter. Combining that feeling with a couple glasses of wine, champagne or whiskey and the cabin crew's pockets were full for the next month in generous tips. Make the rich feel richer! Let them live in that illusion of power.

         My back was pressed against a golden column as I sipped my champagne, the sweet liquid fizzing in my mouth like tiny fireworks. Eyes cutting through the crowd, I sighed. The target was out there – somewhere among the masses – while I was struggling to breathe in the sequined second-skin Scotty had forced me into. 'You look great' he insisted. 'You'll be fine,' he had said. Ha! 'Fine' indeed. I could hardly make my way up the staircase on the way in without flashing the skin of my upper thigh to fellow gamblers; who knew what would happen if things went south and I had to restrain the target by force? By appearances, I was better suited as a shard of the Emerald City rather than a woman here on professional business.

         Scotty's accent boomed through the intercom. He had been quiet for a while. "Amber."
"Scotty." I spoke into my half-empty glass, eyes combing the room: so far, nothing.
"I've got a hold of the cameras. Agent Barnes is at the roulette table closest to the door on the right-hand side of the room."
I took another sip. "On it."
"You're on the table? Isn't that a bit conspicuous?"
"Very funny."
"Just doing my job of being the funny one in this relationship."
I held back a smirk. "Being the funny one is the only thing you do in our partnership, so I'll let that one slide."
He scoffed. "What do you mean by 'the only thing' I do? I do so much for us!"
I hushed my voice. "Yes, because sitting in a helicopter and chatting to me is so exhausting."
"As a matter of fact, Miss Knight, it is."
"Just admit it: I do all the legwork between us. Literally."
"All of the—! Oh, this will be discussed when you return, missy!"

         I bit into my cheek as I held back a smile. When I neared the roulette table, I shook off all remnants of my talk with Scotty; I had a job to do.

         "There's a camera to the right of you, above the archway," said Scotty. "I'll be your eyes if he makes a run for it."

         I remained silent as I stepped up to the table, gently pushing through the crowd to stand between a white-haired old man... and the target.

         All field agents were given a code number and microchip on completion of their training. Despite only being used from a decade earlier, they had proven particularly useful in tracking agents that needed aid or protection... or if they went rogue. In that case, they could be reprimanded swiftly.

         Most agents forgot about their microchips – Scotty had even asked me about them upon starting our most recent mission – which made rogue agents simple to track. If I were Agent Barnes, my tracker would have been dismantled the second I left London but, as most did, he seemed to have forgotten about it and Alistair was able to easily give Scotty his code to track him on the cruise on route to France. According to the Director, Barnes was a traitor: twenty-five years of age – an agent for seven – and a master manipulator. When asked about why he was to be restrained, Alistair would not care to give us a full answer. He told us he killed a pair of agents while escaping justice, then turned away and continued with his paperwork. It was not my place to ask, anyway. All I needed to know was to return him to Alistair alive. I trusted the explanations to come when the time was right.