Billie
Being young is a weakness in my country.
Being a woman is also a weakness in my country.
Now being a young woman was just now you asking for it. Luckily for me, I wasn't so young anymore in my country's eyes. I was nearing twenty-eight by the day, but still had a full year and a few months to spare before I hit the prime age of thirty.
You would think that by this time, I would probably be settled down with a spouse, in a white picket fence home and possibly a kid running around in the backyard.
But no, instead, I sit in a cold conference room, across from the director of the CIA. Next to me is my old teacher, turned mentor, Walter and we are the only three in the room. "And you are one hundred percent sure it was her you saw that night, O'Connell."
The pair of green eyes dart back into my vision like a smokescreen and no matter how much I try to shake it off, it still encapsulates me. I could never forget those eyes, even if I tried to. Those eyes will follow to me to death and after.
"Yes, sir." I answer to him and he nods. "She's never gotten this close to do a job before. Marcus must've been on her radar for a bit now."
"There's still no word on him?" Walter cuts in. To be completely honest, there was a point in my mission where I forgot my original reason why I was there. Which is to draw out Alexandria and prevent her from getting to Marcus. But I failed at those two. Just like I failed with keeping my friend alive.
I was failing a lot recently and it was starting to get under my skin more than usual. I wasn't entirely too worried about the Cloud and the government losing faith in me. I was simply worried if maybe I was reaching my limit.
The two men go on about Marcus's disappearance and try to come up with whereabouts of where he could be, not wanting to admit that it was very much very possible that Marcus could be dead in a ditch somewhere, especially if he fell into the hands of her.
I wallow in my thoughts for a while, ignoring the men, until I do something out of impulse. "I have an idea," I straighten my back against the seat and the men stop speaking and narrow their eyes over at me.
They give me a nod of urgency, telling me to go on with what I have to say. "You said it yourself, she only comes out when something's on her radar or when something's important enough. Let's draw her out. Let's make something important for her."
"Go on further." The director tells me to continue. "What I'm saying is what if I can draw her out somewhere. Touch something of hers that hurt, make it hurt enough that she'll have no choice but to come out and when she finally does decide to come out, I'll be there."
"You want to set a trap?" Walter butts in, with obvious signs of disapprovals. "We've done that dozens of times over the years, she's not gonna fall for any of those."
I turn my head with a glare at Walter who met it with the same amount of confidence. "Well obviously it didn't work because you guys use old school methods, let me try it my way." I tell him.
The director gives a shake at his head. "O'Connell, you know that myself and the President strongly advise against agents making their own plans."
"Well this is a different situation, we are talking about Alexandria Deveraux, someone you been hunting you for a decade and a half. Surely, there should be an exception."
"No," Walter says sternly and i can't help but send him a dirty look. Why was he was so adamant about going against my plan, I thought we both wanted this done and over with.
"The simple fact that it is her is the reason why you can't go rogue."
"I am not going rogue. I will still be under the US' government assistance. It's simple if you two would hear me out."
It truly was simple to me, in fact, I thought it was pretty dumb that no one had thought to do it before. It all stemmed around money and a sense of security.
The two things that everyone in life craved. The way I would draw Alexandria out was by threatening those two very things in her life. I knew that someone in her caliber and status in life would have to have multiple banks and multiple lockboxes with valuables.
My plan was to have other agents go to these banks and ask to withdraw a large sum of money under someone's account and when the bankers ask whose name is on the account, they would say Alexandria's name.
By default, Alexandria was a France native and she still resided and done most of her business there and French law said that when someone asked to withdraw money out of another person's account, the accountholder must be notified immediately.
Now with the lockboxes, I've only gotten confirmation on one of them throughout my multiple years of Research and it was located right smack in the city of love, Paris. Now, I would personally go into France's largest bank and ask to open her lockbox and of course she would be notified.
If my plan worked, Alexandria's day would start with her waking up, heading to work, and being hounded with calls of attempted withdrawals from her bank accounts and an attempted unlock at a lockbox of hers. Of course, she would have to see for herself what was going on and when she did, I would be there waiting for her.
"You want to go to France?" The director's eyes are bulging when he hears the full plan I have in store. "O'Connell, that's out of our jurisdiction. French law is completely different from ours. They don't even consider her a criminal over there. You can't go."
"So?" I rush out of frustration. "Make it our jurisdiction, you deal with the legal part of things, isn't that your job? Don't we want to get this over with once and for all?"
Walter eyes me from the side as discreetly as he think he can be, but I can still feel his hard stare and mentally prepare myself for the lecture he's going to give me when this meeting ends about my so called defiance to authority.
The director goes to speak but is stopped by a shrill ringing sound in the air. I slump back into my seat as he excuses himself from the room to take his phone call.
I expect Walter to say something or smack my hand, but he stays silent. I didn't lie about wanting to get this over with.
For the last twelve years, this woman had clogged up my mind, my dreams, my nightmares, my daydreams, my paintings. I needed her out of my head and the only way I knew I could do that was by putting an end to her, just like they wanted me to.
The director comes back in with his head bowed down. "There's been a new update on Marcus," Walter and I's head peer up in anticipation. "He's been found dead in a dumpster site."
Walter's head drops and mines stand high as I ask, "How'd she kill him?"
"She shot him four times. Looks like he was tortured first." He answers and I turn to Walter giving him a knowing look. He didn't have to look at me without knowing what I was telling him. We were losing again.
"So," I tell the director. "What's the plan now?"
The balding man looks at his phone, then at me, and shakes his head. "Be ready tomorrow by seven a.m. I'll have a jet ready for you. You're going to France."
