The task was entrusted to Zara. That is to say, she was given the sole mission of infiltrating the C I A, and what other means than to become a C I A agent?
But lately, Shadow's men had been slacking off a bit, which kept infuriating him so much.
"Get out of my sight!" He ordered the man in front of him, who quickly scurried away, out the door.
At the same time outside the building, Zara made her way through the gates. Her steps were steady but determined. After the short meeting at the penthouse with the Mayor's son. It was officially concluded that her duty would commence the next day.
A man stood at the foot of the stairs, smoking a blunt. He was her colleague, Damon.
On seeing her approach, he quickly called out, "Hey, Zara, the boss does not want to be disturbed. Why don't you go back to wherever you are coming from and perhaps take a rest?
Zara stared at him for a second, and walked past, ignoring him completely. But he held her arm back, restraining her from taking a step further.
Before he could say a word though, Zara spun around quickly, using her grip as leverage. She twisted her arm in a circular motion, the sudden movement put his hands in a compromised position. It seemed like his arm was about to crack under the pressure and his eyes widened in pain, which he tried, so fruitlessly, to hide.
Zara sneered at him, "This is the last time you would interfere in matters concerning me, Damon. Last, time!" She emphasized.
"I would not be too lenient the next time it happens." She released his arms, and he let out a silent gasp, clutching his arm with the other.
As Zara walked into the house, he glared at her. Muttering under his breath, " You think you are all high and mighty just because the boss favors you? Just wait and see. I will destroy you, woman!"
The moment Zara got into the room, she immediately showed her respect to her boss. She did not miss his foul mood, nor the way his eyes immediately brightened on seeing her.
Shadow inhaled deeply. His voice was low and gravelly, as he spoke, "Zara, my little assassin." That was what he had always called her, ever since she was a little girl.
"It is done, Sir," Zara was about to report the development of the previous task she had been given, but he hushed her, waving a hand dismissively at her.
"Oh, do not worry about that. I have immense trust in you, Zara. You have always been exceptional in your tasks and you have never for once missed a target."
Zara stood still. This was what he always said to her, whenever she came in to report her successful tasks. Of course, she knew she was exceptional. She leaves no stone unturned and always makes sure she leaves no clue or trace of her deeds.
Shadow's gruff voice reached out to her again, "Come on. Do not keep standing there like a log! Have a seat, my dear. We have a lot to discuss."
There was a piece of paper lying on the desk opposite them, and as Zara sat, her eyes were drawn to it. Discovering it as a photo, she raised a brow.
"New mission?" She asked.
Shadow nodded, slowly reaching out to the photo on the desk. "New target, new mission." He spoke with a sly smile etched on his face.
"I do not need to remind you of the importance of these missions, Zara. You should know I regard you as the best when it comes to clean tasks."
She nodded and he continued, "And how is it going at the Central Intelligence Agency? We need to be quick about this as it is very important. Make sure you find the code and break it. Otherwise, it would not end well for us as well."
Zara nodded. "I understand. They have no idea who I am yet, and I have gotten their trust. But rest assured, whatever developments come in, I will be sure to keep you posted.
His tone became more serious, "I am impressed as to how you have grown up so well, Zara. Impressed. Seems just like yesterday you were at my doorstep. A little girl, willing to do what it takes to survive in this cruel, evil world. Look how far you have come."
Zara bowed her head slightly, as she felt a wace of appreciation dwell on her. She does not know what would have become of her if he had not taken her in. If he had not sheltered and brought her up to be the person she was today.
"It is all thanks to you, Sir. I am deeply grateful for your help."
She took a deep breath as she thought back to the months following the murder of her parents. She went from a stage of grief to sadness and agony. And then, pure anger, with a relentless need to justify her parent's death.
As a little girl, she grew up feeling guilty, and angry at herself. Guilty because she was not capable of saving her parents in their dying moments. Hurt, because all she did was hide in a little cupboard as she watched them being killed.
The events got her quite shaken, that she began to venture to different places, determined to avenge her parent's death. But, nobody was willing to look at her or take a nine-year-old, seriously. Until she sought out a renowned gangster leader in the neighborhood, Mister Tate, asking for his mentorship. To train her how to be strong, and defend herself at all costs.
She was so young and an orphan. And after careful consideration, he took her under his wing, training her to become a cold-blooded assassin.
Zara adapted so fast and so well, driven by a profound energy. A resilience of revenge to make a name for herself, and prove that she wasn't as weak as she had thought.
The world was full of evil. Pure, undiluted evil, roaming about in broad daylight. And the worst part of it all, nothing was being done about it. Everyone goes about their daily activities, completely turning a blind eye to the damage caused by these people.
Something kept bugging at the back of her mind, though. She made to speak, at the same time, Shadow handed her the photo he had been holding onto.
"This should also be a piece of cake to you. But I must warn you. You have to be extra careful on this one. I trust a clean task when it comes to you, and I know you would not disappoint."
Zara nodded, "I won't, Sir,"
But as soon as her eyes settled on the face of the picture, she was stunned. She blinked slowly, thinking her eyes might be messing with her, but her face did not change a bit.