Darkness and Danger

 By Harper Johnson

 I nervously glance in the rear-view mirror of the Grecale Maserati, peering at the leather case stuffed in the backseat. I see a shadow pass across the glass and my heart jumps to my throat. I slam on the brakes, gasping for air as I look over my shoulder. The road, illuminated by rows of fluorescent lights on each side, is empty. How paranoid am I?

     Resuming my drive, I quickly accelerate, weaving through the streets at lightning speed as my car stealthily creeps along the asphalt. I can't be found. As I adjust the strap of my dress, a flowy black gown adorned with black and white checkered beading, the events of the night come to the forefront of my mind.

     My mission had been to kill Gael Morgan, a trained assassin working for the Welsh government. While the United States has an alliance with Wales, this particular agent had refused to follow orders, setting out on his own and putting the lives of United States agents stationed in Wales in jeopardy. For me, following orders was second nature. Over the years I have learned to detach myself from my work; not a trace of emotion overcomes me when completing a mission. I am simply a pawn in a game of chess, insignificant when looking at the larger picture. So, when given my orders for tonight, I didn't expect anything to get in the way. That was until the evening took an unexpected turn.

     My location was an extravagant gala being held in a penthouse in New York City. I had no idea why my target was there, but I knew he needed to be stopped. When I arrived at the event, even the beauty of the space didn't make me falter. Brushing past the tables splattered with jewels surrounding tall, golden statues, the stands with overflowing food, and ignoring the magnificence of the huge, sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling, I made my way to the center of the room. Scanning it, I searched intently for my target. Bullseye. Although his back was facing me, I recognized his large, muscular build and dark, unruly hair. Strategically, I slowly made my way toward him. I needed to isolate him, and, much to my dismay, my advisor informed me the most effective way to do this would be to charm him. Although I received attention from boys, I had always been awkward around them. How was I going to do this?

     Breathing deeply, shoving my nerves down, I positioned myself in Gael's line of sight, leaning against the wall and shooting glances at him. After a couple of minutes, he noticed me and began to return my looks. When I found myself smiling at him, shyly batting my eyes, I panicked. Part of me had forgotten what I was here to do. A strange sense of uneasiness came over me. I had never let emotions take charge of me during a mission. What was different about this time?

     To regain focus, I moved toward a table stacked with glasses of champagne that, together, made a large tower of drinks. Maybe the alcohol would knock some sense back into me. My eyes were shrouded by my glass as I downed my drink in one gulp. When I lowered it, I was struck with an intense feeling as my eyes locked on Gael's. Darkness and danger reflected in the intensity of his brown pools, but the shiver beneath my skin told me they triggered something else inside of me. Excitement.