✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ Warfare [Transformers]✔

17

There was a solution to every problem. Always. So, too, for the fact that Brady didn't even know how to hold a gun properly because, believe it or not, even holding it, HOLDING it, there were things to consider and some things to do wrong. So who better than Black Ops Cemetery Wind Commander James Savoy to teach her the basics of handguns? No one.

The sports part, on the other hand, Brady pushed aside completely because it wasn't possible to get ultimate athletic in two weeks, especially when she still had to work. A day had just twenty-four hours, and at some point she had to sleep. Even if they reduced her bedtime, she still had about six hours left in the day. At this point it should be noted that six hours was a lot, but one had to keep in mind that she started as a 'beginner', although she was capable of running a good ten kilometers at a time in under ninety minutes. No regular training, then from zero to a hundred and this every day? Hello Hospital.

Had Brady traveled extensively in her life, learning about foreign countries and their cultures? No. Had she lived abroad? Also no. According to this, what qualifies you to become an agent of the CIA? Honest answer. Nothing at all. Did you sleep your way up to get the job? You might think so, but no.

According to that, she was left with two things, one or more foreign languages that would be an advantage to know, among others like Russian, Korean, Indonesian, Arabic, Chinese, Turkish or Persian, which Brady could completely forget, so the only thing left for her to do was to study law as much as possible. How should someone, without photographic memory, learn a new language, based on something, completely different from hers, in a short time. Even those people with a linguistic aptitude would probably need more than two weeks to do it.

Just before closing time, Brady had stopped by the legal department to ask what she should best start with and what books, were recommended. In law school, books, tomes, were certainly recommended for learning, not just told, get law book XY. It was not quite as easy as she imagined, said a man in his late forties to mid-fifties, because just reading the texts would not give her the understanding she needed. On the basis of tasks or fictitious cases, she would get the feeling in which area it would fall and under which paragraphs to look for. In addition, not everything was always as simple and clear-cut as it seemed. Everything else was experience.

It should be easy to guess what Brady was thinking. Great. What a load of crap. For the beginning, however, two particular books should be enough for her, which the man pulled out of the lowest shelf and put into her arms. No one will look at them, he told her, because everyone in the room knew their contents by heart, because they were her tools of the trade, and for once they were something that every lawyer should know without looking them up. That could become something.

─⌖❖⌖─

That was not true. That was not true now. While Brady sat on the floor; on the lap, one of the books from the colleagues from legal department, lay and the innumerable, printed out notes, which it for learning in the Internet, which lay scattered, knocked it at the door. At this time of the day, people only call to complain. Otherwise not. It was after nine, soon half past nine, but not loud.

"It's true," Brady greeted Will, leaning his shoulder in the door frame and smiling at her as soon as the door opened, "you're a stalker William."

"I told you I'd see you," which didn't have to mean Will needed to pay her a visit right away especially, at this hour, "You're happy. You just don't want to admit it."

"And how. I don't trust you with a transmitter on my car," when there had been a knock, Brady had assumed it would be Will and, with his hand in the doorway, blocked him from entering her apartment, "You called the DMV, ran my license plate and got my address because you made up some, secret military story. Yes?"

"Quite possibly.", according to this, it had gone down the same or similar way for Will to get Brady's address.

Brady didn't get to do more than that, because Will took her face in his hands and kissed her several times, pushing her back into her apartment, where he let the apartment door fall into the lock with his foot. A soft jingle of metal was heard after he took off his jacket and threw it in the corner, that came from the two pendants hanging from his chain. Unfortunately, that's exactly what led her to take the two metal plates in her fingers and look at them with an absent, blank stare.

"The value of a dog," Brady muttered reading the embossed name, whereupon Will pulled the chain over his head and she wandered with her eyes on it to the table where she slowly sat down, "Nothing more. Are dogs really worth that little?"

"Hey, they're nothing to worry about," Will tried to reassure Brady, sitting down on the floor across from her, wrapping his hands around her legs and rubbing his thumbs over her knees, "It's just a matter of finding the way home."

"More likely to know where the body, or certain parts of it, are supposed to go," Will had specifically left that point out, but the purpose of the marks was no secret and that had been typical Brady, "I can't do that besides, I'll be gone in two weeks. Completely. Eighteen months off the face of the earth. Best time for that kind of thing. Forget it."

"Time goes faster before you think," not really, because time always goes by at the same rate and there Will could say what he wanted, "Others make it too, and much more."

In 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell' William Blake wrote the following. 'If the gates of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to men as it is. Infinite.' But in reality, our perception is often clouded, by expectations, by experiences.