Agent Fedorova// D.E.A

Chapter Four

              Kamchatka, 1985

My hands begin to shake. Am I actually scared? Or is it just the coldness around me? My vision is starting to get blurry. Within every second, it's getting harder and harder for air to reach my lungs. No, I can't do this. I need some fresh air.

  I nervously rub the sweat off of my hands to the fabric of my pants, grab the pile of papers, lying on the wooden table and quickly hide it in one of the drawers, under tons of other papers. I take a look around, to find a pack of cigarettes. And when I finally had it in my hands, with goosebumps down my stomach, I rush out through the door.

Blue lights gleams into my eyes. My eyes squint from the brightness surrounding me. There were several dozen of people, walking down the branching corridors. All of them dressed up with long, white laboratory gowns.

I look around, to see the guards, standing next to every exit you could possibly find. I walk up to one of the doors, leading up to the surface.

[In Russian]

-Busy day?- I ask one of the guards, standing on my right. He gives me a side eye.

-Yeah, pretty much. I heard we made some progress with the machine already,- he answers, carefully observing the passers-by.

-Good,- I reply, while scanning my security key card. The door slides open and I keep walking down another short corridor.

The sound of high heels hitting the ground as I walk, was the only sound you could hear, except the histerical laughs, coming from some of the guards.

  Two of them were standing next to the elevator.

- Good day, Miss Fedorova,- they both greet me with big smiles on their faces. How pathetic.

- Hello boys,- I say, pressing the button for the elevator to open, with no expression on my face.

  My head feels dizzy, and my breathing starts to get faster. I'm so fucking exhausted from everything.

Why?

I also have this exact question raging in my mind.

Because the papers, located in my office shouldn't be stressing me out. It should be doing the exact opposite, honestly. Because the contract that I'm about to sign, is only giving me the opportunity to complete my job easier.

- Are you okay?- one of the guards, looking down to me asks. Wrinkles on his forehead forms, as he raises his thick eyebrows.

  I shake my head unnoticeably and force a little smile. Without saying anything, I walk into the elevator, which was open for a few moments before I even noticed.

- Women,- I hear one of them mutter, as the elevator door slid shut.

  I swear, I'll most definitely punch someone today.

  I aggressively press the button with number 18 engraved on it, and the elevator begins to go up. With one hand, running through my hair, I lean to the metal wall.

  What is wrong with me? I've been doing many important and life threatening missions in my whole life, and never have I ever been this nervous or scared.

  No shit sherlock, maybe it's because I'm currently in a top secret Russian base, with like 20 floors of secret laboratory, to create some kind of monster and use it as a massive threat to all the world's countries, and a huge concentration Camp above it? Should I even mention the hundreds of fully armed soldiers and what would happen if anyone found out, what I'm actually up to here?

I'm so dead.

The bell rings silently, alarming that it reached the stop, and I rush out. Only to find another hallway full of guards.

I walk towards another door, which will lead me to the outside of the building. With my hair bouncing, because of how fast I'm walking, I finally reach the door in the end of the corridor, and after scanning my security card key again, I'm finally outside. With two guards standing from both of my sides.

One of them was a short male with an Ak-47 in his hands, which seemed almost bigger than half of his body. The hat on his head covered his ears.

I recognized the second guard. A tall male, with a black eye on his right eye, observing the working prisoners in the distance. Shit. It's the same guard from yesterday.

Except from the hand mark bruise on my neck, which, did I mention that I have to hide, I wasn't left with a single bruise. I couldn't say the exact same thing about him though.

It was when the wind blew right into my face that I realized how freezing cold it was here.

I grab a pack of cigarettes from my left pocket, and quickly slide my hand into the right one, when I can't find the lighter.

[ In Russian ]

- Do you have a lighter?- I ask the short guard, standing besides me.

He shakes his head.

- Do you?- as much as I didn't want to interact with him in any kind of way, I ask, looking at the taller guard.

He finally moves his eyes from whatever he was staring at and looks at me. A smirk grows on his face, when he recognizes me.

Does he smirk on everything?