This Will Be Easy

John actually liked the equipment room.

It wasn’t like the movies. No flashy tech demo, no lab-coated geniuses tossing grenades to agents like party favors. No guy at the end of an aisle with a smirk and a pen that shot lasers.

This looked more like an armory. No frills. No nonsense.

The experimental gear? Done somewhere else. Probably off-grid.

Here, everything was clean, cold, and practical. Weapons lined the walls behind reinforced glass. Lockers stretched in tight rows, each caged and coded. A triple-door security system kept it sealed tighter than a vault.

On the far side, a raised circular platform served as the checkout station. Agents stood on it while their loadouts were confirmed. That’s where John stood now, arms slightly out, letting the armorer do his thing.

The layout reminded him of something.

Leo and Luca—his old bodyguards. Their safehouse had a similar setup. Smaller. Older. But the bones were the same: steel walls, smart storage, and quiet deadliness stacked like trophies.

“Bulletproof suit’s fitted,” the armorer said, tugging once at the sleeve, then again at the chest. “Tracker’s in the watch. Nothing fancy. Standard field package.”

That was fine. John didn’t need fancy. Not yet.

Lea stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the whole process like it was an exam.

The suit was jet black, sleek but not flashy. Tailored tight enough to look sharp, loose enough to move. He got to keep the purple tie.

His tie.

“What do you think?” John asked, checking himself in the long mirror beside the station.

The armorer grunted. “Fit looks solid.”

John smoothed the front, then turned to Lea. “And you?”

Lea circled him once. Then again.

She stopped at his side and shrugged. “Shoulders could loosen up a touch. But you’ll live. Can you move?”

John rolled his shoulders, swung his arms, and gave a single bounce on his heels.

“Moves fine,” he said. “Feels right.”

He gave the mirror one last glance. Looked like a man ready for war. Just clean enough to be underestimated.

Perfect.

Lea stepped onto the platform with him and got close. Too close.

Her face stopped just shy of his. Lips inches from his. Breath warm. Intentional.

For a split second, John thought she might kiss him.

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But it caught him off guard.

“Uh—hey,” he said.

Without a word, Lea’s hand dropped, grabbing his crotch with professional efficiency. Fingers pressing, adjusting, checking.

John arched his brow. “Little bold, aren’t we?”

“I’m a bold person,” she said, cool as steel.

She let go and turned on her heel, facing the armorer like nothing happened.

“He’s gonna need more room in the lower section.”

The armorer blinked. “Really? Most people don’t—”

He stopped.

Realized what she meant.

“…Oh.”

“She’s not wrong,” John said, smirking. “I just didn’t wanna complain.”

“With a little more space, the suit’ll be perfect,” Lea added.

<<<>>>

[Bullet-proof suit acquired. Adding to inventory…]

[Tracking watch acquired. Adding to inventory…]

<<<>>>

Wait, shouldn’t the watch be a gadget or something? thought John.

<<<>>>

[Acknowledged. Watch is a gadget. Now moving…]

<<<>>>

“Y-yeah,” the armorer mumbled, suddenly very interested in his clipboard. He shuffled off toward the security door.

When it opened, KJ was already standing there.

“Oh! My bad,” he said, grinning. “I was waiting for Agent Raven.”

“He’s already inside,” the armorer said, still awkward. “You got clearance?”

“It’s fine,” John cut in. “He’s here to deliver something.”

“Yes, I am,” KJ said, practically glowing.

The armorer gave them both a look, then shrugged and walked off.

Once the door clicked shut, KJ leaned in like he was delivering state secrets.

“I’ve got it.”

“You do realize I’m not a field agent,” John said, arms crossed. “I’m here for one mission. That’s it.”

“Still,” KJ shrugged. “You might find this helpful.”

He motioned them over to a side table, reached into his oversized lab coat, and pulled out a full-sized suitcase.

Lea raised an eyebrow. “How’d you even fit that in there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” KJ said, flicking the latches.

The case opened with a clean click.

Inside: a sleek black belt, and four silver discs, each the size of a compact mirror.

“I hate to break it to you,” said John, “but belts have been around a while.”

“Not like this one,” KJ said, grinning.

He lifted the belt, holding it up. Looked ordinary. Matte black leather. Simple design. Except for two polished silver blocks mounted on either side.

“Looks normal,” KJ said. “But hit the center buckle—watch this!”

He pressed it.

PPPFFFTTTT! THUNK!

A cable shot from the left block, slamming into the ceiling and anchoring instantly. The line pulled tight with a pneumatic hiss.

“It’s a dual-cable grappling system. Diamond-tipped hooks. Can pierce through steel. Holds up to a thousand pounds per side.”

“So I can lift a car?”

“Or yourself and a few unlucky passengers.”

John smirked. That’s cool. He thought.

<<<>>>

[Grapple Belt acquired. Adding to gadgets…]

<<<>>>

KJ moved on, picking up one of the discs. “Now this—this is art. Went off memory, but I think I nailed it.”

He tossed it gently onto the floor. The metal disk clinked, then lay still.

“Five seconds,” KJ said, stepping back.

John and Lea watched as the disc beeped twice, then fwomp!

A balloon shot upward, inflating fast.

Within seconds, a life-sized dummy stood in front of them. Supposed to be John. Sort of.

It was all black. The proportions were off. The face looked like it had been drawn by a toddler with a Sharpie.

John stared at it.

“…You think that looks like me?”

“Give or take,” KJ said proudly.

“It looks like my mugshot if a blindfolded child sketched it from memory.”

“Come on, man. It’s meant to distract, not win beauty pageants.”

Lea smirked. “Points for effort.”

KJ crossed his arms. “It deploys in under six seconds. Durable enough to fool thermal scans for thirty. Distracts gunfire. Buys time. You’ll thank me later.”

John glanced at the wrinkled balloon-doppelgänger, then back at the disc.

He had to admit, it was ridiculous.

But also kind of brilliant.

It looked like one of those inflatable things people stuck in their yards during holidays. Limbs too long, face a crime against art, body wobbling with every breeze of the armory's A/C.

“Just take it,” KJ pleaded, pushing the discs and belt into John’s chest. “If you never use it, that’s fine. But if you do, I’d really appreciate the feedback.”

John sighed. KJ had this voice. This hopeful, nerdy eagerness that made it hard to tell him no. And honestly, he didn’t want to. The kid was trying. Smart. Awkward. Driven.

And young—same age as John, maybe younger. But trying like hell to matter.

If the gadgets worked, great. If not, no harm done. Either way, KJ could walk around saying one of his prototypes made it into the field. That might be enough to keep his clearance and his optimism intact.

Fine. Win-win.

“Alright,” John said, grabbing the gear. “But you’re gonna need to make a better way to carry these. I’m not hauling discs around in a damn suitcase.”

“They won’t pop open,” KJ promised. “I got it. Oooo, I also have some ideas of a blow dart pen and some really good climbing gloves that can’t ever slip! See this is because-”

“-Hey, hey!” John said, cutting him off. “If I ask for a re-up on gadgets, then you can do all that stuff. Let’s just stick with these for now.”

“Oh, right! Bet!”

John slung the gear over one shoulder, exhaled.

<<<>>>

[Uh… dummies? Acquired?]

<<<>>>

What?

<<<>>>

[Agent distractions. Acquired. Adding to gadgets…]

<<<>>>

Well that was weird. thought John.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a train to catch.”

He turned to them both. “Lea. KJ. Wish me luck.”

Lea stepped in without warning. Her arms wrapped around him. Not stiff, not half-hearted. It was warm. Real. She held him like she meant it.

When she pulled back, she looked up into his eyes.

“Please come back safe,” she said softly. “Not because I care or anything. But…”

She smirked.

“Everyone else here is so boring. If you’re gone, I’ll be stuck making small talk with interns. You know what that does to a woman’s soul?”

John smiled, just a little.

Lea leaned in and kissed his cheek. Not quick. Not dramatic. Just enough.

Her face in that moment was open, unguarded in a way he hadn’t seen before. Something KJ must’ve picked up on too, because he awkwardly stepped back, face reddening like he’d walked in on something he shouldn’t have.

“I’d never submit you to that kind of torture,” John said.

***

John stood on the platform in Chicago, briefcase in hand.

The sun was doing too much. He adjusted his collar, sweat starting to bead down the back of his neck. Chicago was hotter than expected. Or maybe it just felt hotter when you were carrying the weight of a government-issued kill order and a suitcase full of experimental tech.

Probably both.

This wasn’t his first brush with danger. But it was his first official mission. Something about that made the air feel thicker. He wasn’t just trying to stay alive, he was on a clock now. A government asset. A tool with a tracker.

And Agent Hawk was late.

He’d been scanning the crowd for the past twenty minutes. Looking for the guy. Red hair, green eyes, probably Irish, maybe Scottish.

Nothing.

He took a breath and whispered to himself. “FOCUS.”

The holographic screen blinked in front of his vision, invisible to anyone else.

<<<>>>

[Loading… Now accessing F.O.C.U.S: Field Operative Cybernetic Uplink System. Now live. User Identification: John Nero]

[Classification: Spy]

[Mission: Identify unknown person known as Bailiff]

[Reward: Increase in XP]

[Do you accept?]

<<<>>>

The screen popped up with a “Yes” or “No”.

Let’s get this over with, he thought, I accept.

<<<>>>

[Mission: Start!]

<<<>>>

A timer started on the screen from zero.

He had the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. There was a man with dark hair sitting behind him in a Disney world shirt. He kept his distance, but he always moved within eyesight of John. Even when John went to the bathroom to pee, the guy went into the stall to pretend to use it. It could be someone from his family or an enemy. John moved behind a pole to be sure.

The same man changed his seat to one that was an eye shot of him.

<<<>>>

[Talent Activated: Underworld Legacy]

[Highlighting suspect…]

<<<>>>

The AI had identified him as well. John was about to ask why it activated without him saying anything, but then he remembered that his talent had the unique ability to activate itself.

Definitely not a good sign.

The train stood in front of him, humming like a beast waiting to be fed. Sleek. Steel gray. Modern engine that practically growled.

“All aboard!” the conductor called, and the doors hissed open. People started pushing in. Parents dragging kids, couples clutching each other, solo travelers in hoodies and noise-canceling headphones. Every type.

Except the one he was waiting for.

John checked his watch.

Agent Hawk was forty minutes late.

Typical field agent behavior. They followed protocol… until they didn’t. Some had a god complex. Others just liked being unpredictable. They kept doing it until they got retired, arrested, or quietly erased.

John hated being late. Especially for this.

He was down to the last few stragglers still outside. A couple in a rush. A woman with too many bags. One kid running behind his dad.

And him.

The man in the Disney shirt hadn't moved. John definitely didn’t want to be left alone with him.

Sighing, John walked to the train handler by the open door.

“Ticket?” the handler asked.

“Here.” John pulled it from the inside pocket of his blazer.

The man glanced at it, then looked up. “Private room. Toward the front, left side. Right before the engine.”

John nodded. “Thanks.”

He stepped onto the train.

Inside, it was a collage of humanity. A few kids tapped away on phones. Some elderly folks already nodded off. A young couple was curled into each other, whispering about meeting parents. That stage of love where even breathing in sync felt magical.

John was 22 and already had more relationship trauma than most people twice his age. One woman he loved worked too close to him to ever be with. The last one he had, well... he’d killed her.

Relationships don’t get more complicated than that.

He passed through car after car, scanning faces. Still no Agent Hawk. He looked out the window and noticed the man in the Disney shirt was gone.

<<<>>>

[Subject lost. Suggestion: Keep high on guard and go to privacy immediately]

<<<>>>

You read my mind, thought John.

Finally, he reached his assigned compartment. Private. Clean. The kind of room you only got when someone in Langley was footing the bill.

He paused at the door.

If Hawk wasn’t in there, he’d have to make a call. And he really didn’t want to make that call.

Just as he reached for the key-

SHUF!

The train jolted forward. He stumbled left a step, and caught himself.

No train legs. Not yet. He unlocked the door and swung it open.

Nice setup. Seats on both sides. Two fold-down beds. A private bathroom on the left. A little luxury with a side of paranoia.

He stepped in, tossed the suitcase onto the top rack, ran a hand through his hair.

He loosened his tie. Might as well wash the sweat off his face before dialing HQ with bad news.

He opened the bathroom door—

And stopped.

Everything inside him shut down.

Heart. Breath. Thought.

A cold shock ran down his spine. His skin went pale, despite its chocolate tone.

A gun. Pressed to his chest.

And a smile. Wide. Dangerous. Familiar.

The woman holding it cocked her head, beaming.

It was Mango!

“You really thought you’d get away from me that easy?” she said, voice honeyed and sharp.

John didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

She leaned in, the gun still steady against his chest.

“Why don’t you and I have a little chat, lover boy?”