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"Cipher Thirteen, are you in position?"
Freezing wind whistled through the wisps of dark hair that had escaped from the Cipher agent's braid. The muscles of her stomach flexed against the concrete she was laying against, eye positioned above the scope of her sniper rifle. Her numb finger twitched on its rest below the trigger as her target, a well-dressed Rodian, came into the crosshairs of her scope.
"Cipher Thirteen, do you copy?"
"I copy, Watcher Seven." The agent's accent was sharp, matching that of her handler who watched through the camera strapped to her chest. Insurance, he called it. Thirteen liked to call it mistrust instead. "Permission to take the shot?"
"Hold." Thirteen watched through the scope as the Rodian turned his back to the window. "We're getting readings of someone else in the building." The line went quiet for a moment. The agent pressed her hand to the comm in her ear. "You will have to infiltrate it manually. We have assigned you another target. No witnesses."
"Copy that." Thirteen deconstructed her rifle, placing every piece carefully back into the briefcase it came in. Her fingers brushed against the blaster holstered at her thigh as she stood up from her crouch and examined the building before her. She was going to request a warmer suit, she thought as she secured a hook and line against the ledge she was standing on.
Thirteen took a small breath as she stood on the ledge, back to the street below. Fear no longer affected her. Several sessions of reprogramming hadn't allowed for it. She took a step back and her boots pushed off against the wall, slowing down her fall and allowing her to begin rappeling before the line went taut.
She slipped the vibroknife from her sheath and cut the line, swinging onto a window ledge and leaping to catch the railing of a fire escape. Thirteen scaled the building, muscles burning until she found the entrance she was looking for. The agent waited for a moment, clinging to the outside of the building and listening for a signal.
"You're clear," came Watcher Seven's voice. The agent reached up and slid it open, heaving herself up and over and landing lightly on her feet. She gently shut the window and drew the shades. Thirteen righted herself and glanced through the doorway, making note of a shadow lingering just outside. She twirled her knife in between her fingers and made her way to the door, pressing herself to the wall next to it.
The operative glanced around the room, eyes falling on a pile of loose change on a side table, next to the keys to a speeder. She leaned over, grabbing the keys and holding them in the palm of her hand for a moment before tossing them on the ground.
"What was that?" The second target was a female. Thirteen guessed it was his wife.
"I'll check it out, it was probably the wind." Inhale. This was the worst part of her job. Exhale. She hated using knives. Inhale. She heard footsteps. Exhale.
The target barely had time to react before she stepped out of the shadows and kicked his knees out. He let out a loud grunt as she stepped behind him and, in one fluid motion, slit his throat. Thirteen let his body fall with a thud, turning around to find her second target standing down the hall.
The agent's eyes flitted from the body to the second target for a split second. She hurled the knife at the second target and watched as it buried itself in her chest. Thirteen darted forward to meet the Rodian as she fell. Her fingers gripped the knife, twisting before tugging it out and slashing her throat for good measure.
Thirteen watched as the light in her final target's eyes flickered out. She sighed and hung her head, bracing her forearms on her crouched legs. Nausea forced its way up her throat, making her swallow heavily and shake her head. She switched the blade off to wipe away the blood. The agent cursed as the blood stained her fingers but pressed them to the comm.
"Targets eliminated." Her voice shook slightly. Thirteen hoped Watcher would write it off as static.
"Your job isn't done, Cipher. We're getting a reading of one more." Thirteen furrowed her brows, glancing around the quiet apartment. That was when she noticed a door slightly ajar, and when she pushed it open she was met with the sight of a children's room.
"Shit," she muttered quietly. Thoughts raced through her mind as she spun in a slow circle, considering her options. She could pretend she didn't see it, that their thermal reading was wrong. Thirteen slid her knife back into its place on her belt and removed her blaster pistol instead, fastening a suppressor to the nozzle and tightening her grip on the handle.
A small whimper pricked her ears, drawing her attention to the closet. Thirteen nudged the door open with her pistol. A child who couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve was huddled on the floor, eyes squinting shut.
"Watcher," Thirteen breathed into the comm. "It's a kid-"
"-You know the objective." A brief silence. "Proceed as normal. Atychiphobia."
Thirteen set her jaw, closing her eyes against the spike of pain in her temple that came with that word. She knew it was her programming, a code word that made it impossible to disobey. It was out of her control now. Her hand raised, seemingly of its own accord, and pulled the trigger. The shot was silenced, but it still echoed in her ears. The operative holstered her blaster and moved to step into the hallway, raising trembling fingers to her comm.
"Requesting evac."
"Granted."
The agent nodded slightly to herself and stepped over the body of her second target to walk back to the window. She glanced back at the now quiet apartment, soaked in blood, and imagined how their neighbors would discover the bodies. Local authorities would be called, but their pockets would be so full of the Empire's money, they would look the other way. The case and their bodies would grow cold, and they would be buried without closure.
"Extraction is on the roof. Excellent work, Cipher Thirteen."
