The Skin Thief

Chapter 8

The car shudders through the capital city. Connor and I are cramped as we sit in the back of the sleek, black vehicle. I shift uncomfortably in my new uniform and straighten the dark grey tunic. I gulp and clear my throat, the black tie feeling tight around my neck. For a second, I feel as though I can't breathe.

Connor gives me a small, reassuring shrug. I turn to face him. My eyes immediately fall on the little silver pin in the centre of his peaked cap. The metal skull with its sharp teeth and the two crossed swords behind it makes me shiver.

I still find it hard to process that we are officially agents of RISAA. Connor takes off his hat, noticing me staring at it. He spins it around and runs his finger over the little pin.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he says. I nod my head and adjust my own grey and black cap. It feels oddly heavy on my head.

"Realm Intelligence and Security Agency of Athaine," Connor mutters to himself, still poking at the pin. He chuckles. "This makes us look so mysterious."

"Really?" I ask and take the cap from him to put it back on his head.

"Yep," he replies, grinning proudly. "Everyone who sees us today whilst we wear this pin will automatically know we are active duty agents. They won't know what we do, but they will know we are considered extremely skilled and dangerous. They will know that we are the best of the best. It isn't often people are bestowed this badge, you know."

That's because most people with this badge are probably dead. I shudder and push the thought out of my mind and shrug at Connor's statement.

"If you say so," I tell him.

He laughs. "Take notice of the way people look at us. I bet you many of them will be terrified."

I roll my eyes. "Sure," I reply sarcastically.

"At least be proud of this," he says and pokes my upper arm where the flag of Athain sits. I look down at the dark green flag with its white cross surrounded by thin golden threads and the golden lion head in the middle. "It is an honour representing our country," Connor continues, smiling. I can't help but smile too and I nod my head.

"Yeah, it does feel good," I admit, feeling a strange sense of warm pride knowing that I am finally out in the big world representing and protecting my country. Connor nudges me again and I roll my eyes, laughing.

We stop as we spot the Parliamentary Building. Connor and I both gulp and go silent as we approach. Its huge, red brick walls loom over us as we reach the large gates. It is guarded by soldiers wearing their green uniforms and black berets. They are armed with a gun called the FS22. It is a submachine gun that can fire up to 800 forty-five calibre rounds per minute. I know all the guards protecting the parliament building will have been trained by the academy. This means that in their hands, those weapons will kill whomever they deem a threat.

The driver comes to a stop and shows the guards an identity card. We too show him our own identity cards, which had been made during our time on exercise. On the IDs are the pictures we took on graduation day. The photographs are of good quality. They have come out surprisingly clear, even if they are devoid of any colour but for different shades of greys. On the brownish paper, are our names, which have been typed out in the usual typewriter font in black ink. Apart from our names, the only other words are AGENT OF RISAA in caps. There are also three red stars at the bottom of the page, showing the mark we graduated from the Academy with.

Upon seeing our cards, the guard gulps and quickly hands them back before waving us through.

"See," Connor says as we leave the checkpoint.