My heart pounds hard, racing fast and overworking itself, the beat traveling through my whole body and making sure I know it's time to stop. The fur covering me sits sleek and damp, making me question the anatomy laws and why our sweat glands work like humans instead of the domestic animals we have. My eyes burn with the salty sweat dipping in frequently no matter how many times I wipe it away. I keep my cadence counted, every half second is another punch I throw into the practice glove.
Clyde stands tall and dry, his eyes follow my fists. "C'mon, babe, keep that rhythm going, your cardio needs it!"
I throw the punch that would be my last before collapsing on the bench behind me. "Whoo! Okay, time for... a breath." Clyde quickly removes his practice gloves and pulls out the stopwatch he had playing in his pocket.
"Good, this is really good. Twenty minutes straight of paced punching, you're amazing! That's twelve more minutes longer since the sessions first launched a month ago."
"Yeah, thanks. Gotta....keep it up...ya know. Need to...make it to the...team." My lungs are on fire.
"Of course, you'll make it, you're a top-of-the-line Ispio agent, we're bred for physical greatness. Adams would never send one member of a squad on a case with this much speculation, so no pressure or anything."
I wipe more sweat from my eyes and take a controlled breath. "What makes you think you'll make the team without training?"
He smiles and places his hands on his hips heroically. "You really gonna ask that?" I only smile in response, knowing well enough that his strength could never be doubted. I've never lacked cardio since my employment, however, some extra training wouldn't hurt my chances.
"Well let's hope that I'm ready before the big day because preparation time is up."
He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know you're ready, you'll knock 'em dead, guaranteed."
I stand on my wobbly legs and lazily hang my arms around his neck. "And of course, I appreciate your help, silly puppy."
He pats my head hesitantly. "For you, I'd do anything. No offense, but you are one stinky fox."
"That's not nice."
*** *** ***
Three days pass before we enter Adams' office again. We sit in the chairs provided in front of her desk, waiting for her presence and attention. The door behind us opens, and we don't need to turn our heads to know it's Adams. She calmly sits down, placing her steaming mug of coffee to the right of her.
"Good morning, Carlotta," I say.
She doesn't smirk or smile, must be a rough morning. "Are you two ready to receive deployment details?"
I clear my throat awkwardly. "Y-Yes ma'am. We both have high chances of success during the trial sessions. We'll make that team, it's almost a sure thing."
Her eyebrow raises. "Almost?"
"He's just saying he can't predict the future, ma'am," Clyde says, "we'll definitely make it." I can see that she's biting the inside of her mouth, trying to hold in some emotion that's bottled up.
"Surely?" she says while pointing to a folder on her desk. "This is the case file, if you miss your shot at official initiation, I'm sure you will find another way," she leans closer to us, her otherwise pale skin having shades of red in her cheeks, "it's your job to adapt." Before any of us says something that might offend, I take the folder off the desk and hand it to Clyde.
"Yes ma'am, we won't let you down. This'll be a breezy mission, probably done in a week tops," I say, forcing a smile so hard my eyes close up from my cheeks. We both get up and make for the door, Clyde opening it for me to run through first.
"Good luck, agents," Adams says stoically.
Within the compound of our Ispio headquarters, we retreat to the breakroom to have a sit-down and a look at this case we've been preparing for. Adams proposed it a month ago, saying that critical time zones wouldn't happen until the future, giving me time to train up to make a track team that later would be sent to some finals in some tournament if they're good enough.
"Seems dangerous," Clyde says, scanning the documents in front of him, "apparently the best athletes have a tendency to disappear after the games, sometimes during. I've already got a good guess as to what's happening."
"Keep it to yourself, speculation is distracting for my detective mind work. So what seems so dangerous about this case? Every case we do will always have risks." Clyde looks around the empty room, then at the doorway to make sure outside ears aren't listening.
"Because there's gonna be times where we're separated. I can't keep a close eye on you the way I usually do, and that gives me a bad feeling in my stomach."
I grab his hand softly, his eyes go down to it, and a small pull on the corner of his lip makes him smirk. "It's totally adorable how you've grown so protective over these few months, but you really gotta relax on the job. You know me, you know I'll be okay. We've worked in the same unit for years before...you know, an increased affinity, and we've been alright."
He keeps his smirk and sets his eyes on mine. "Alright? I'm sure Doctor Nivans would disagree with our medical records. Besides, those times were different, it was easier to keep you in my sights."
"Ha, it's cute when you lie. Seriously I'll be fine, I worry about you too, but I keep it under wraps because I don't want you to hold back or get distracted." I can feel his hand turn into a ball under mine.
"I'm sorry I'm behaving like some starstruck child. You're precious to me, but you're capable, and I need to remember that." He leans in closer to me, his eyelids drifting slowly to a close, and I find myself doing the same. My lips pucker when I feel his breath, but it suddenly goes cold as I open my eyes and see him pull away. The door behind me whooshed open without me noticing; one of Adams' tech guys walked in to grab his lunch. I pull my hand away from Clyde's and awkwardly clear my throat; Clyde runs fingers through his hair as he desperately tries to slow his tail from wagging happily.
"So the point of entry is...?" I ask, breaking the still waters of the room. Clyde glances at the tech guy quickly before clearing his throat.
"The team is holding tryouts in Vergennes, Vermont early in the morning. You will be attempting to make the track and field team, most likely for relay racing, while I'll be joining the strong team, things along the lines of lifting or throwing. That's our ticket to start a subtle investigation on the inside, so make sure to bring your A-game and catch their attention."
"Yes sir."
*** *** ***
Barry pilots silently again as Clyde and I hang back in our seats. Our setup has been made in advance, that's including payment of a motel for a full week and our cargo dropped off in the room by allies in the area. It's odd to not be in charge of inventory during a mission, but I put faith in our organization, and whatever we find is probably all we're going to need.
"I feel naked without Conviction," Clyde says.
"Yeah, I bet your balance is thrown off without a weapon in your hand." He looks at me with a narrow squint and rolls his eyes at me.
"You're joking about being unarmed? Seriously? What would desk jockeys even know about what a field agent needs? How are we supposed to rely on someone like that to deliver the smart gadgets we need?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you. It's a new thing the regional directors are trying out after the complaint of tech never making it back started circulating. It's just their way of controlling how much loose data get lost."
"It was an optional method to follow, Adams didn't have to," Clyde breathes in deep and settles down. "You know why Adams was mad the day of the briefing?" I shake my head. "She had to fire someone."
"Oof. That makes sense now. Carlotta has a tough exterior, but her heart is the biggest I've seen. She doesn't want to condemn someone to a mind-wipe session ever, but when you're let go, you can't leave with knowing everything you've seen."
"Exactly, she was pissed and now the quadrant is paying for it. We could die without the proper gear."
"There's no use complaining about it if we can't do anything to stop it. We just have to cross our fingers and hope to find something good when we get there."
"I don't run on luck, Troy, it's careful planning and correct preparations that get us through these missions." He's starting to get worked up again, I think I'll just keep quiet until we land. Still, his words do make me worry, not that I'll ever show him that. Barry stays zipped up in the cockpit, landing us in the Vergennes outskirts where a company car was waiting for us, no driver. It's a short trip to our motel, we make it there at 21:10. We check in under our false names and hesitantly stand in front of our room door. We get brave and enter, seeing the bags on the bed and a small box wrapped in gift paper and a bow.
"These duffle bags?" Clyde asks.
"Our clothes, they picked our wardrobe for us."
"And the present?" I tear it apart with my claws, discarding the paper onto the floor in a pile.
"It's our hypercube, and whatever gadgets Ispio thought we would need." Slowly I hand it over to my squad leader who takes it with a shaky hand and sweaty forehead.
"The grand reveal," he whimpers. I close the blinds and lock the door as he activates the hypercube. A small flash of blue light appears for a second before dimming itself down and displaying text with pictures to the side of it; a list and description of the gadgets contained within.
Clyde swipes through the inventory, logging what he sees in his mind for later knowledge. He comes back around to the first item on the list and makes a face of displeasure. "They...they did not include Conviction for this mission, nor your peashooter."
I approach him slowly, arm extended for a gentle caress. "It's okay, Clyde, we'll manage. We don't need firearms this time."
"Everything we have is nonlethal, making stealth the only option to take."
Almost there. "We're good at that, remember? We've done cases where we never got caught."
He walks away from me, visibly angry. I put my arm down in a failed attempt to relax him. "You don't get it, Troy, we have no protection against hostiles. If anything; anything happens, we're defenseless. I need to defend us, I don't want you getting hurt."
I quickly catch up with him and cradle his face with my hands. "Sweetheart, you're unscrewing. I need you to be the squad leader that always has a plan, the squad leader that knows that he is the weapon and not the gun, and the squad leader that is very confident in himself and his partner. I need that man right now. Please, for me?"
His beautiful brown eyes lose their fire as he breathes a heavy breath into my face. "For you, I'd do anything," he wraps one arm around me and kisses my head. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being you."