Risk and Rebel

8: THE EMAIL

FROM: MICKEY

TO: JASON

SUBJECT: the story obviously why else would I be emailing you

Hey Jason. I know you've been pestering me to read part of the story I've been writing, so I typed some of it out for you. It's only an excerpt -- seriously, I'm not spending hours upon hours to decrypt my handwriting and then type it all out. Not happening. Anyway, here goes.

—

Team Alpha was the best of LASAR. An ambiguous corporation with no international ties, LASAR served many a purpose in the world, and thus by association, so did Risk and Rebel. From espionage, to assassination, to everything in between.

Considered the corporation's specialists in the purest form of the word, they had been proficiently trained in skill sets across the spectrum. Despite displaying signs of unnatural abilities early on in life, those were not the focus of their training.

In fact, both preferred to fulfill assignments without use of their so-called powers — the supernatural gifts they, and a few others in LASAR had developed, were generally considered a last resort.

But they were Team Alpha; by definition, the best.

And also the ones most likely to get into impossible means of trouble, as their individual names suggested.

"They're going to want us in a containment unit now," Rebel muttered, giving his partner a look of displeasure.

Risk remained unaffected. She didn't understand what the big deal was, anyway — he was the one who had pulled a gun. All she'd done was kickstart the process.

"It's not like this is anything new," she pointed out, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glared at the wall.

"Usually fighting is only initiated by me," Rebel pointed out, "and usually it is only when she is trying to sneak out a knife when she thinks you're not looking."

"I kickstarted the process," Risk repeated aloud. It was the only excuse she had ... and one he was no doubt expecting.

"And started a brawl with the entire cafeteria," Rebel drawled, still giving her an unimpressed look.

"As if you've never done that," Risk shot back without missing a beat.

He frowned at her at that, and then silence fell over both of them. What argument could be made when they both knew the truth? This was the life they lived ... this was, in all reality, what they enjoyed.

Though both knew they could do without the frequent sessions with Boss over inter-agency fighting outside of a training sessions.

"At least I didn't use my telekinesis," Risk eventually said.

Rebel cracked a fond smile at that, canting his head as they made eye contact. "That's true," he mused. "There were a few other power bursts."

Risk snickered at that. "Given the smoke alarm went off, yeah, I'd say there were."

Rebel laughed right along with her. "Did you see the look on Boss's face though?" he asked, his eyes now shining in amusement. "I thought the smoke might've been coming out of his ears."

Risk was forced to stifle her laughter at his joke when the door to Boss's office opened, and in came the man himself. Though he was already launching into a rant that both parts of Team Alpha had practically memorized, neither were paying attention.

Instead, they glanced knowingly at each other. Rebel gave a conspiratorial wink, before Risk's smile of amusement turned to a smirk.

Boss sighed loudly, drawing both of their gazes to him. He was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, practically radiating annoyance. "Neither of you are paying attention, are you?"

"No sir," they said in unison, neither one remotely ashamed.

"Of course you're not," Boss sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, spare me any and all sarcastic or otherwise remarks," he said, leaning forward on his desk. "You're leaving for your next assignment in eight hours. If you could please refrain from killing anyone between now and then ... we can pretend this didn't happen. All right?"

"Yes sir," Risk and Rebel agreed simultaneously.

"Now get out of my office," Boss said with a wave of his hand.

—

There you have it, J. If you wanna read any more, you're going to have to fight me for the actual notebooks, because I'm not typing anything else out. So yep. Fight me later.

- Mickey