The Target

“Altair, is that you? I thought you were on vacation?”

I turn around to find Micah, one of many chaplains stationed in our department. He’s become a close confidant and a good friend in the short time that I’ve been working here.

“Oh, Pastor Micah. Yeah, I was.”

“Goodness, it must be pretty urgent. It’s not like Ms. Aquino to suddenly call in agents like this.”

“I hope so, otherwise she’s going to be hearing some choice words from me.”

I peer over Micah’s shoulder and notice that the sanctuary is a little more full today.

“Are those the new recruits?” I ask.

Micah nods. “Yes, when they’re young and new, they’re more likely to seek help from higher places. But as time goes on and they grow used to this job, most of them start to forget.”

“To pray?”

“To live.”

I turn to look back at the sanctuary. Just last year, I was in the same position as them. Excited about the prospect of this new job;but nervous, scared even, of the consequences of failure. In this line of work, one should always go in prepared to lose everything at any time.

“Be anxious for nothing,” Micah says, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Whatever lies ahead, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

I smile, somehow feeling better already. “Thanks, Pastor Micah. You always seem to know what to say.”

He laughs and pats the Bible nestled under his arm. “Well, I can’t take all the credit. Most of it comes straight from the good book.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

I walk into Aquino’s office as if on auto-pilot. I’ve been there so many times now I could probably map it perfectly in my head. Aquino was the one who recruited me and personally trained me herself. She was a well-respected veteran agent who had been in the business for 45 years now. Though she no longer works field jobs, she still plays a vital role through intelligence gathering.

“Come in,” I hear her say before I even knock on the door.

I let out a breath and open it. Standing in front of me is Rosario Aquino, an imposing woman even at the ripe age of 68.

“Ah, Vargas. I’ve been expecting you. Please take a seat.”

I do as I’m told as Aquino pours tea into a pair of cups.

“So I’m assuming you’re here because you have questions about your new mission?”

I nod as I take the cup she offers to me.

“Yes. First of all, I’d like to make it clear that I don’t do honeypot missions anymore. Not after what happened in Sicily.”

Aquino laughs as a teasing smile plays on her lips.

“Goodness, ever the worrywart, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I don’t intend to ask you to do something you wouldn’t be comfortable with.”

I feel the tension in my shoulders release after hearing that.

“Okay, then if that’s not why you assigned me to the mission, then why did you pick me, specifically?”

“Isn’t obvious?” she asks as she takes a sip of tea, “Distance.”

“Distance?” I ask, incredulous.”That’s it?”

Aquino sets her tea cup down.

“Well, truth be told, we were going to assign White to that mission. But then we saw that you had already made contact with the target. Not only that, but she seems to have taken a liking to you.”

I heave a sigh.

“Yeah, and here I thought she was just new in town and looking to make new friends.”

Aquino gives me a blank stare. She looks like she’s really deliberating what she’s about to say next. Uh-oh, did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? Was I being too honest just now? As I’m grappling with the possible consequences of my loose lips, Aquino interrupts my thought process.

“Vargas, you truly are the best person for the job. You’ll understand why, in time. For now, why don’t you reply to the target? She just texted you.”

I quickly take my phone out to look and see two new message notifications.

Vega

Hey! Sorry for suddenly disappearing like that! You know how it is with big families! Ha ha! Anyways, I know this might seem sudden, but would it be alright if I took you clout sometime?

Vega

*Out! Sorry, typo.

I stare at my phone dumbly for what feels like hours. She wants to take me out? Was my cover blown already? And how exactly is she planning to take me out? With a gun? A knife? Or maybe--

“Vargas!”

Startled, I look up to find Aquino staring me down.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Don’t just leave her hanging on ‘read.’”

I nod, feeling my resolve harden as I type up a reply.

Altair

I accept your challenge.

Not even a second passes before I see three dots appear in a speech bubble.

Vargas

I’ll take that as a yes! I know a great cafe that just opened up recently, I’ll send you the address. I’ll meet you tomorrow at 6 pm. Does that sound good?

Altair

Perfect. I will not be so easily bested.

Vega

Not sure what that means exactly, but I’m looking forward to it too!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

I have several of hours to kill before my showdown with Vega; so far now, I have to play the role of big brother.

“Adler, did you find it yet?”

“Hold on! I’m almost done!”

I sigh and check the time again. It’s already eleven, we’ve been at the toy store for nearly half an hour. I get ready to call for my brother again when he suddenly runs out and nearly collides with me.

“I found it! See?”

He shoves the toy in my face.

“Yes, it’s a very nice Topper. I’m glad you found it.”

“It’s not just any Topper! It’s top of the line! It’s aerodynamic, it spins in practically every direction, and you can have it record your voice to announce all kinds of cool attacks!”

That sounds impressive on paper, but it still looks like an ordinary toy to me. Well, whatever. As long as it makes Alder happy. I reach into my pocket, ready to take out my wallet until Adler stops me.

“Nope, not today! I won a lot of prize money from my last tournament, so I can pay for this myself!”

“Oh, okay then.”

Kids these days, they really do grow up fast. My gaze follows after him as he runs up to the cashier to pay for his top of the line topper. But then I hear it. A loud, familiar, screaming voice. I carefully poke my head out of the store, and in front of the bakery across the street, I see her.

Messy black hair, one hand holding unto bags of baked goods, the other holding a cellphone that she’s screaming into. Before I can duck back into the store, Vega notices me and starts frantically waving with the hand still holding her phone.

I sigh.