Building A Team (Flashback)

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It's not as long as you want it to be but if I made it longer it wouldn't be as impactful. Still, I hope you like it.

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The moon was hidden overhead as Carter ducked into the alley. She skirted the building and avoided the puddles of questionable substance. With her hood pulled up and dressed in all black, she looked to be nothing more than a shadow.

She glanced back at the alley entrance before hoisting herself onto a dumpster. From there she launched herself at the fire escape. The metal gave a faint creak on impact. She quietly ascended the levels. At the fourth floor, she climbed over the railing, carefully edging onto a narrow ledge that wrapped the building.

Keeping her breathing even, she inched her way away from the fire escape, using the uneven surface to find grips. Painstakingly, she around the corner and found the window she knew to be there. She pried the screen away and gently pushed the window up.

With no visible access point to the window, it was kept unlocked. Something she would reprimand the owner about. No visible access didn't mean there wasn't one. At least in this case it played into Carter's plans.

The interior was dark as Carter crept inside. It was a neat bedroom with a large bed and nightstands that showed there were two occupants to the room. Worn out from the dangerous path to the window, Carter sank into the armchair to wait.

She didn't have to wait long.

From behind the bedroom door, she heard the sound of another door opening and the patter of footsteps. She listened as the footsteps wandered for a bit before heading to the bedroom. When the door opened, a man walked in, his form outlined by the light in the living room beyond.

He didn't notice the shadow in the armchair.

He flipped on a light switch and took his time removing his suit jacket and laying it on the bed. Carter sat motionless, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. She waited until he'd locked away his gun before speaking. No need to die twice.

"Hi, Brock," she said.

Brock whipped around. Carter pulled back her hood, her actions careful so as not to scare him. She stood with the same slowness. All the while Brock stared at her, frozen.

"Carter," he said. "You're..."

"Not quite."

Before she could react, Brock crossed the room and crushed her with a hug. She hugged him back.

"We all thought..." Brock stopped himself. "How is this possible?"

Carter pulled away. "You were all in danger. It was the only way."

Brock nodded. He was FBI after all.

"Carter, Donny is-"

Carter held up her hand, her throat tightening.

"I can't...You can't tell me. If I know, I might go to him and he's still in danger." She gripped his arm. "I need someone I can trust. Will you help me?"

Brock squeezed Carter's shoulder. "Of course, little sister."

*****

Carter pushed through the doors of the gym, the sound of clacking metal and pounding footsteps echoing around her. Everywhere she looked it seemed every machine was in use. It was the perfect time to come, no one would notice one more person among the dozens.

Carter cut her way through the maze of machines towards the wall of weights. Muscle men and women stood or sat, each of them repping for others as much as themselves. In a corner, one man looked like he repped for a completely different reason.

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