Focused Dreams

Chapter 36

Not everyone hates HQ like me. And honestly, I don't blame them. To me, as a child HQ was awesome, all the agents and the gadgets and everything, I mean what child wouldn't love it right?

It was when I got older that the disdain hit me. When after a mission in Dubai, Japan, or Milan, I had to come back here and sit and wait for the next one. Training was my only escape, but it was torture.

Every young agent has an instructor, a person who would train you on and off the field. You had to be at least sixteen to go on a mission without the approval of your instructor, but even after sixteen you still had to train with them. Luckily for me, after I turned fourteen my parents were my instructors, and they took a group of kids. Me, Marco, Ivy, and for a brief time a girl named Josette, but she went with a different group after.

Training with Marco and Ivy was the only reason I wanted to be at HQ. It didn't feel like home to me like it did to everyone else, there was just too much... loss? I don't know how to explain it. When my parents died I clung to every memory of them I had, and since I was so young I didn't have many, so when I went to HQ with all those people that knew my parents that had more memories of them than I did, it got to be a little too much.

I would be passing by in the memorial hall so I could get somewhere and there would be an agent staring at the picture of both of them, they would turn to me and they would say, 'I remember how great your parents were, they would be so proud.' and I would just continue with nothing more than a nod and a smile.

So being called back here, without reason, in the middle of a mission is kinda annoying. I want to be with Lucy, brainstorming and figuring out a plan for the warehouse, not here in a place that should be a sanctuary but isn't.

But there's no choice because when a member of the council calls you to their office, you go, no questions asked. And that's how I'm here in a giant room that nothing in it but a desk, a few paintings, and a chair in front of said desk. Grey tones cover the room, the blue holographs of the city's around the world cover one wall, and nothing but marble floor.

Because of that, it wasn't so hard to hear the click of his polished shoes as he entered his office.

Jordan Beauregard, one of the many members of the council, and my former instructor, before my parents obviously. His blond hair has started to turn gray, and wrinkles started to form around his eyes and mouth. But he still managed to look youthful, and powerful.

'Hello, Damien. You've grown a lot since the last time I've seen you.' He shakes my hand, while I bow my head, and he sits in his chair.

'Yes, sir. Eight years are enough to change a person,' I would know, I think to myself.

'Right, well let's not hold you up any more than you need to be.' He says as he reaches for a file on his desk.

'That would be appreciated.' Jordan examines the files like a doctor would a patient. And I couldn't help the inch of fear that crawled in. They wouldn't kick me off the case, would they? I mean not after praising me to my parents, and offering a promotion. 

Jordan looks at me, a knowing smile on his face, 'You're not in trouble Damien. Quite the opposite.'

To say I was relieved would be an understatement. 'Then why, may I ask, am I here?'

'The council have observed your case quite thoroughly, watching every step you made,' I didn't know if it was just me imagining it but I'm sure there was an odd note of satisfaction in his voice, 'and through a vote, we have come to a decision.'

You know even though my parents have already informed me of what their mission was, and what they want for me, I still couldn't grasp his next words.

'You are to preside your mission as is, with one new task.' He said and after a long pause where my breath was caught in my throat and my heart beat rapidly he finished his statement, 'But you must kill Lucinda D'Ambrosio as well.'