Her most lethal weapon is herself . . .
• • •
Agent Eleven was always a loyal Agent for the Division.
Until she wasn't.
Running and going rogue a year ago had definitely put her on their hit list, but what happens when they find her again and forc...
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I watch her from the shadows, the gun tucked into my pants warming. Her head falls back, hands tracing the contours of her hips as she dances between the swaying crowd.
A body passes her, the man saying something softly and dropping off a drink before continuing on.
She twists in the spot, her face glowing as she faces my way completely.
"What do we know about her?" I murmur, so quietly my lips hardly move. I bring my fingers to my jaw as I glance to the side, away from her gaze.
A rustle echoes across the line.
"Agent Eleven," Clay begins, the words quiet but with an edge of gruffness. "Twenty-seven," He says, no doubt reading from the file.
Her fingers delve into her hair, rustling the blonde locks, dark eyes gleaming under the dim lights.
"What's her name?"
There's a clearing of a throat, "It's been blacked out."
"Her family?"
"Only her cousins and uncle are listed."
I tilt my head back, gaze pinned to her, analysing her. My eyes drift down her figure before I force them back to those captivatingly dark eyes as Clay continues.
"Started at the Division age fourteen and graduated at age twenty and went straight into the field. Seventy-nine completed missions until she dropped from the radar a little under a year ago."
"Do we know why?" I mutter, beginning to form a plan.
"No information. She specialises in combat, poison, seduction-"
"She could step on me, and I would say thank you." The words erupt out of nowhere and a grin stretches my lips before I reign it in.
"Liam-" Cleo starts,
I clear my throat, bringing their attention back to the situation at hand.
"She-", He pauses, and I lift my hand, subtly pressing the comm further into my ear.
"She?" I press,
"There's not much information on her. She graduated as an assassin and after that the information is scarce. It's like someone has gone through her file and swept it clean of almost everything."
I furrow my brows; my gaze stuck on her.
"What did your father say?" I ask Clay.
"Nothing. Said everything we needed to know was in the file. And yet nothing is in there that will help us."
"Maybe-"
I move out of the way as two drunk women stumble into my path, my focus jumping to them and away from the conversation between my teammates.
