CHAPTER ONE:
Death, some people say it's not painful, some say it's the end, some believe that there's a life after death but what is life, with death lurking just around the corner? What's the point of it all? Sometimes I feel, sorry before I died I felt as though we are all just part of this massive never ending drama and when you die, your role is done, you leave the stage, all you can do is to act out your role well, leave an impact so that you can be remembered.
The rain pounded hard against the wind shield of agent Nancy's convertible Mercedes Benz as the car pulled to a halt in front of her house, she took a while to breathe it in and a few seconds to breathe it in and admire her house as it had been a while since she'd actually been home, she always thought it was it was nothing but plain old hyperbole when other agents said that deep cover missions could get messy but now she had landed herself in a truly one of a kind messy deep cover mission, DR Tasha Newman was already fast asleep, Nancy truly felt sorry for her, she'd been through a lot in the past three days, they'd had to escape a burning building, jump off a the roof of a ten story building, dismantle a bomb vest, been in a high speed car chase and through it all they'd been shot at by mercenaries and syndicate members but at least they both can actually get some rest until she can figure out their next move, both their lives depended on her next move. "Tasha, Tasha, wake up, we're here" DR Tasha Newman peered through the wind shield to observe the house in the downpour with very little difficulty and absolutely no success. They made the short dash to the front door and stood on the porch receiving a steady shower as Agent Nancy tried through a bunch of keys to find the right one, apparently she'd been undercover for so long that she didn't even know which key opened her front door anymore. Finally after the fifth attempt there was a soft clack and the door slid open, the house smelled damp and felt cold almost lifeless except for the spiders, who'd had moved in after she left, Nancy checked her phone, but the battery was already dead, the next course of action was obvious, she flung her hands around the dark In desperate search of the switch but by the time she found it Tasha had already found her way to the nearest couch and had made herself at home, looking so exhausted that a corpse would seem more lively. Nancy stared at Tasha for a few seconds as though surprised by the thought of human weakness, "I'll go fix up something to eat and get you a change of clothes she mumbled under her breath "yeah go do that, while I just lie here and suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder" replied Tasha half asleep.
For the first time in a long time she climbed up the familiar but unfamiliar stairs that led to her bed room not surprisingly, she'd left the door ajar and it had been that way for the past three years. As she walked in, the room seemed bigger than she remembered or maybe that was just the side effect of sleeping in motels for the past year and a half. She took off her heavy leather jacket, bullet proof vest and camping boots that made her feel like an over cooked sandwich, it was only now that she realized that she hadn't had a shower or a change of clothes in the past five days, she slid her blouse off when she felt the familiar cool that extended from her back down to her waist, she took it out and felt it's weight in her hand. For some reason it felt comforting, the weight of her standard issue nine millimeter pistol, as weird as it seemed, she felt oddly safe having a fully loaded fire arm in her hand but she knew it was just her paranoia at work, she was letting her fears get to her, they were perfectly safe here. She laid her gun by her night light and noticed her phone beeping; she played her voice mails as she slid off the rest of her clothes. It was a message from Michael, "Hey babe, I know I'm not really supposed to try to get in touch with you but it's been a while since I heard from you and you missed our date night, but I guess you're probably busy with work, probably busy catching terrorists or stopping the next world war three or whatever it is you do in the CIA but I just want to say I'm happy that... you chose to trust me and tell me the truth about your job and I also want to say that I love you and I miss you, once or if you get this please call me back so that I can know that you're safe, alive and alright, I love you". Nancy's heart ached and she desperately wanted to pick up her phone and dial his number just to hear his voice, she could give anything just to be in his arms again but the rational part of her knew that she couldn't take that risk, calling him or seeing him now would only put him in harm's way and the last thing she wanted was to endanger his life, she could barely protect herself and Tasha as it were and she couldn't barely protect herself and Nancy as it were.
The feeling of the hot water against her skin eased the tension in her nerves and that was just what she needed along with a desperate cup of coffee which was brewing several minutes later. "Coffee?" she asked handing Tasha who was clearly on the losing end of a battle to stay awake a steaming cup of coffee, "you look like you could use it", "do I look that horrible?" asked Tasha sarcastically, she was suddenly very self-conscious staring at Nancy as she drank her coffee, she noticed how pretty Nancy was, five foot one, her straight brown hair held back by a rubber band, black eyes, rose red lips and rich caramel colored skin, she wore a plain white vest with short knee length khaki shorts, a total Barbie doll compared to her, four foot eight , curly black hair, pale white skin and plain brown, baggy skirt and a plain white shirt accompanied with her oversized goggles for glasses. "dinner will be ready in forty five minutes", eyeing the digital clock that sat on the center table and saw that it was well past one, "you know what scratch that, breakfast will be ready in forty five minutes", "hopefully", she added. "Surely I should have some groceries that haven't hit their expiry date yet" she mumbled to herself. "hey are you chopping onions or practicing swordsmanship" joked Tasha, "at least my cooking's better than yours" she laughed back, suddenly Nancy noticed head lights through the curtains, her first instincts were to batten the doors and grab her M13, having a rocket launcher, a few grenades, and an armored assault tank would be nice too but she thought better of it and just continued preparing her chicken and pasta.