The Agency - Operation Delta (Part II)

Chapter 3

Vanessa stirred, the rhythmic thump echoing in her ears. Each pulse brought on a surge of pain through her skull. When she tried to open her eyes, a hazy face swam into view. As her vision sharpened, the face came into focus: a middle-aged soldier. The insignia on his arm immediately stood out – he was a commander. The weight of realisation crashed over her; this was the enemy. Memories of the train crash returned, fierce and vivid. The thumping, she now understood, were the heartbeats of other survivors around her.

She tried to move, only to discover her restraints. To her side was a familiar face, Laura.

"Agent 411," the commander's voice sliced through her thoughts.

He caught her eye, and she felt a flash of regret. "I don't know who that is."

"Denial to the end," the commander observed coldly.

Vanessa measured her enemy. He was on a high-risk mission, and his men stood by his side without a sign of fear. Young, but battle-hardened, his presence commanded the loyalty of his elite team. They weren't just any soldiers; they were bounty hunters, and their respect could only have been won by a leader who'd been tested in fire.

"Every minute you linger, you risk our forces discovering you," she said, although the words rang hollow even to her own ears.

"Our helicopters will be back shortly. A small radar glitch delayed us, but it's sorted now," he replied.

"What do you want with me?" Vanessa tested her restraints discreetly as she spoke.

"Are you conceding that you're Agent 411?"

"My identity is compromised, thanks to a traitor," she snapped, glancing at Laura whose eyes widened in shock.

Laura stammered, "Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't do anything!"

The commander's face hardened. "This country does appear to be full of traitors," he mused. With a sudden violent motion, he slapped Laura, sending her sprawling. "I warned you to remain silent," he hissed, pulling her back to her knees.

Turning back to Vanessa, he said, "It seems they didn't exaggerate your abilities."

"What are you talking about?" she managed to ask, doing her best to mask her confusion.

With a swift motion, the commander withdrew a dark green handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to her nose. Startled, Vanessa tried to jerk away, but the restraints held her fast. When he pulled it back, it was stained with her blood.

"Word has it that your hearing is extraordinary," he mused with a hint of amusement. "That a blow to the head might overdrive it. That you might bleed from the nose or even the ears if it became too much. What is it you hear?"

A bitter, weary chuckle escaped her. "Is that what your God told you?"

Despite her best efforts, the handcuffs remained steadfast. Each attempt to manoeuvre her thumb resulted in a blinding spike of pain. It was clear; the enemy had been several steps ahead, having countered all their defense protocols. Such a deep infiltration, especially for this duration, was unthinkable.

He tossed the bloodied handkerchief aside and reached into his pocket, pulling out an object. Vanessa squinted, trying to identify it, but the excruciating pain clouding her senses made it hard. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with," she rasped.

His expression shifted, revealing a hint of genuine surprise. "You haven't pieced it together? All this—every move—it was orchestrated for you."

The enormity of his words momentarily stilled her pain. "Why?"