Agent Rogue: Espionage

Chapter 4

With Scotty's head checked out, finding him orientated enough to fly, we settled down for the long journey back to London, the blizzard easing enough for us to leave.

          I sat in the back with Derek, waiting patiently for him to finish cleaning the dried blood off my scalp with a damp rag. I said I'd do it myself, but he insisted.

          He frowned, dabbing the skin. "You're lucky you're not concussed."
"The snow cushioned the blow. I'm fine."
He angled his head to glare at Tyler, who crossed his arms and kept his focus on a game on his phone. "There'd be issues if you weren't."

          He shook off the scowl and tilted my head, breathing out a sigh. "It's hard to see 'cause of your hair, but I'm pretty sure it's all clean."
"Thank you."

          His smile was crooked when he chucked the rag back in the open first-aid box. "How many?"
I breathed a laugh. How many on-target shots, he meant. "Six. You?"
He hissed through his teeth. "Eight. You're behind."
"I was busy hacking at the ice!" I scoffed. "You were shooting for longer than me."
"If you had any upper arm strength—"
"Which I do."
"—you would have broken the ice in just a few swings. Like myself."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help laughing. "So modest."
"Aren't I just?"

          His smile faded, and my stomach sank. "Now—" He raised from his crouch then turned and flopped down next to me. "—are you going to tell me—" Spotting Tyler, he cleared his throat. On command, the young agent left with a scoff and headed for the co-pilot's seat. I made a note to kick him out of it when I needed a word with Scotty.

          "You were distracted back there. What happened?"

          Scotty was occupied with flying, Tyler slouched in the seat beside him while untangling his earphone wires. I took the photograph from my pocket and handed it over. "I took this from Marcus's office."
He pondered the woman in the picture; her hair, her eyes, her bone structure and smile. Then looked at me. "Is this—"
"Yes." I nodded. "That's my mum. The password I put into the computer, it was... it was her birthday." I was shocked I remembered, but from the few memories of my childhood, that date always stuck.
"She looks like you."
I never thought we looked alike. Even as a child, I imagined myself to resemble Marcus more. A cruel joke, I thought. "We always looked different."
"As a child, maybe, but—" He held the image next to my face. "Now you look like her. You have the same smile."

          A laugh escaped my lips, and I took the photo back. Running my thumb over the edge, I brushed dust off the gloss. Maybe I had grown to resemble her more, but we were still different. She was much more jovial than me. Even when I was little, I was quiet. Mum always had something to talk about until her voice got lower, and lower... and lower. Until one day she stopped smiling, told me she loved me and ran out the door, telling me she would be back soon. Then her face melded into a featureless mask. She became an aspect of my life I had to forget for a while.

          "I know it sounds bad, but I haven't thought of her for a long time. I'd only just turned ten when I lost her, and seeing how devastated my— how devastated Marcus had become... I don't know, I think I thought it was up to me to be there for him. Try to, anyway."
"He never let you?"
I shook my head. "It was rare for him to bother with me even before mum died, but after that I became nothing more than a nuisance. Impossible for me to do anything right."
His hand locked with mine. "Don't blame yourself. It's not a child's responsibility to support their parent."
"It's not. But it's the reality for some."
"It shouldn't be. If it was grief that pushed him further into his work, it's his own fault, not yours. He failed as a father to give you a childhood."

          He was not entirely wrong, but the guilt never left.

          "What happened to her?" Derek asked, albeit carefully.
I swallowed. "She was ill. I can't remember a time where she wasn't. Marcus spent every waking hour of his life trying to defy human biology to save her, and—" My shoulders slouched, and I slid further into the seat. "It was a car accident. Of all things, it was a freak accident that killed her."
"That can't have been easy to go through so young."
"No." I shook my head. "No, it wasn't."