Agent Rogue

Chapter 4

June 2004: Surrey

I grimaced as my footsteps echoed on the aluminium staircase. It was agonising; far too loud to get away with. No matter how delicately I treaded down those steps, the sound still occurred. It hurt my ears to listen, but I traipsed on.

            Father's work had always been shrouded with the unknown. Before mum passed, his project was a simple thought in the back of my skull – a fact irrelevant to the growing mind of a child – but in recent weeks, the work came to me first. Deliveries often arrived during the night, and meetings were held in line with school hours, but not anymore.

            This change began with one visitor – a middle-aged round man donning a white coat and tiny spectacles – arriving unannounced at the dinner table on a Monday evening to discuss a matter of great importance with father. I didn't dare open my mouth to protest when he excused himself from the table and headed downstairs into his lab with the stranger. I was comfortable enough eating on my own, but found it odd that work would slot itself in the timetabled hours dad and I would spend quietly together. Even if only complimentary, these rare times were met religiously. It was his sole opportunity to check my grades, critique my homework and slam a textbook in front of me to repeat any studies if necessary.

            His work often dragged on into the late hours of the night, but he was always alone. So, when I heard the shouting that shook the walls of the house, I couldn't just turn over and go back to sleep. I pulled myself out from the warm yet rough blankets and set out down the cold, dark staircase.

            The shouting had come from father. He was a man of few words, favouring a quiet and bitter lecture over a roaring rant, so I was startled when I heard him.

"The funding was to be delivered weeks ago! And here we are building another site, running on pennies."
The victim in question was a young woman; tall and slim, dressed head to toe in a beautiful designer tan trench coat. She kept her head held high, back straight but her brown eyes glinted in fear from the lecture some may have called a threat. "I made a mistake, alright? People make them! It won't happen again."
"Our organisation does not tolerate mistakes." The hissing of the voice caught me off guard. It was white-coated man I had seen visiting dad on occasion.
Father's voice levelled. "Maybe we should find a more reliable benefactor."
The woman crossed her arms, hugging her torso tight. "I can fix this! Just give me more... time. Knight?"

            Her arched brows knitted together as she angled herself towards the short intruder. Father spun around in a single motion as the white-coated man nodded his head in my direction, not possessing a single care for the sleepy-eyed little girl.

            "Father...?"
The woman's frown deepened. "You have a child, Marcus?"

            Father stormed over, shoving passed his two associates with a twisted expression. I had been told time and time again to not go downstairs. I should never have gone.

            "Amber, what the hell are you doing?"
"I-I heard shouting." The only sentence I could throw up from the mess of words shooting around in my head. "I wanted to see if you were alright."
"I've told you countless times to stay away from here, no matter the circumstance. Yet, you choose to disrupt my work."
"That's not what I—I'm sorry."

            His sigh strapped an anchor to my heart that never really detached.

            "Your incompetence is disappointing. I wonder if you can do anything right."

***

I fell back into reality as another explosion fired in the distance with the same unbearable lump in my throat I had that night in the lab. Marcus did not care for the whimper that left my lips, nor the quivering of my hands as he gripped my shoulders and marched me back to bed. I cried alone for hours in the dark and returned to school the next morning with nothing short of my usual demeanour. If I could do that back then, I could do it now without the stain of tears down my cheeks.