General Rupert Hayes stepped out of the elevator and traversed the sterile corridors of the underground base until he reached Conference Room 3 where she sat in waiting, feet dangling to the rhythm of a music only she was hearing. Each subtle motion was more mesmerizing than the previous one, a dangerous proposition for any man that happened to let his gaze wander, let alone one prone to heart conditions. He felt his composure trying to run away from him the moment he saw her but quickly pulled it back in, tucking it behind the suit of medals he so proudly wore, before making his presence known.
“Yes, General?” Agent 47-D rotated her chair, batting her impossibly curved eyelashes. If the flap of a butterfly’s wings can cause a hurricane on the other end of the world, then what to say of that simple gesture and its consequences for the known universe as a whole? The General felt the beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead as her hazelnut eyes became the center of his world.
“I had to. You’re the boss, remember?” She winked.
“So...” he began. “... about your last mission in Prague...”
“That won’t be possible,” he continued, eyes cast down.
“Oh? You know as well as I do the Ambassador had it coming.”
“Just a small detail...” she laughed out loud. “Small, indeed.”
Seventeen hypnotized subjects and an explosion later, American Ambassador Jared Green was found responsible for the planning of the hit. His motives were nebulous but the audacity of targeting all three lines of the fifth busiest metro system in Europe didn’t sit well with her, so she took him for a ride.
“Eighty-six million visualizations already,” The General remarked. As he turned to face her once again, she was playing with her smartphone, the familiar sounds and images emerging from it in a scandalous symphony.
“Yes, well... despite the formal ‘thank you’ we received from the Czech Government, I’m afraid you’re persona non grata now. As if Malta, Portugal, and Germany weren’t enough...” he sighed.
“Is it too much to ask you to keep a low profile on your next assignment, please?”
“What happened to ‘I’m the boss’, Alexandra?”
“Jerusalem is calling,” he tossed a folder her way, “but try not to turn the Wailing Wall into the Wanking Wall while you’re there, okay?”