I Fell in Love with a Spy

Chapter 1

 Hey! First, if you haven't read my first book, I advise you to. It is pretty good. Second, the Mafia's and the S.S.S only use daggers, swords, bows and arrows, etc. No guns, missiles, or anything modern. But they do use bombs. Just clarifying that. Also the S.S.S stands for Secret Society of Spy's.

I snuck into the control room, sweat dripping down the side of my neck. Who am I? I'm a spy, obviously. My mission? Easy peasy, just breaking into the German Mafia's head quarters. My purpose? Cause as much havoc as I can, while also trying to kill the German Mafia Boss. If I haven't introduced myself, I'm Aaron. My code name is Eagle. 

I looked around the room, slowly pulling out a dagger, which has a curved blade. As soon as I found the power monitor, I stabbed it. The lights flickered, then died with a pop. I could here shouts, threats, and knife scrapes coming  from one of the rooms. It turns out, only the German Mafia boss is at the facility today. Lucky me. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. The S.S.S trains all of there spy's to have night vision. I heard lumbering footsteps, coming closer to me, then the lights flickered back on. Damn emergency lights. 

I rushed out into the corridor. Twenty meters away from me stood a seething Mafia boss. Michael Schmitz. Age 32. Highly dangerous. Blond hair, startling blue eyes, with a maniac glint. Built like a linebacker. We stood staring at each other. A slow grin appeared on my face as a plan formed in my head. I did the heroic thing. I bolted. 

Soon, the chase was on. He was fast, but I was faster. My black body suit made it easier. Also probably because I'm 23, and have been training since I was 8. I slipped under a chair, while Michael had to go through the trouble of going around it. The chase continued. Mostly with my jumping over tables and slipping in chairs, plus making sharp turns that left Michael running for a full second in the wrong direction. 

But as I kept on running, I rounded a corner and realized my mistake to late. I skidded to a halt. I stood on a balcony, the autumn woods four story's below me. Just great. I turned around to find Michael standing in the doorway of my only exit. I was trapped. 

I backed away, but Michael just stood there, his head tilted, murder in his eyes. His white tuxedo  ruffled in the fall wind. Why a Mafia boss wears a white tuxedo, I don't know. Michael stumbled towards me, about to draw a knife. But he immediately stopped, one shoulder slumped, his eyes full of pain. He ripped something out of his shoulder. Red stained his usually spotless coat. In his hand was a arrow.