Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[4]

MY EYES WERE TRAINED ON THE TINY buildings beneath the plane, and I didn't dare to look away from the window for even a second, for fear of missing something not yet caught. The idea of it all, well it had not quite hit me as 'real' just yet; I could not believe that I was leaving, much less hurrying off to New York to perform a mission that could set me far apart from any of the other mediocres from the Red Room. I had a chance, as little as it could turn out to be, and it was a chance to finally be more than a servant to the music, to the dark, to the stark grey walls of what had been my home.

It had been three days since I had first been told about this mission - three days of a whole new, unfamiliar hell. Learning about the Americans, about their natures and lifestyle was easy; apparently, they really only drawled out words and ate strange food combinations and fell in love with every pretty face they saw. My new name was Emily Newman, a fifteen-year-old with an aptitude and love for anything science-based, meaning I would be right next to Peter in all of the good science classes. I had apparently moved from a small town in South-western Ontario, Canada, and I had come to Midtown High School with my single mother to receive an education that could 'take me all the way to the top'.

Despite an attempt at an impassive front, my insides were in a tight knot and I could barely contain my nervous excitement pounding through my veins. My toes twisted in the strange new boots I had been gifted and in the sleeves of my sweater, though my wrists were held down by strong silver, my fingers picked and fidgeted. Never did I believe that I would be escaping the Madame's cruel gaze so soon, and definitely not so suddenly, dramatically all at once for such a task. Surely, it was fate, my golden shot at a new life. If I could prove I could do this, I could show Madame and everyone else that I was the new best. I was the prodigy that she was searching for. That I was the new hero of the Red Room, stepping up and out of the mould where others could not.

"I hope you have not left anything."

I did not turn my gaze to her, though that would inevitably have some form of negative repercussions against me (ones that could be cared less about, in the moment). She did not deserve my acknowledgements; after all, she would get enough of it in America. For the final moments that I could, I didn't want to look away from my world disappearing fast beneath me, turning into small specks on the cold and barren ground. My wrists stung as they pressed into the cold metal of the handcuffs holding them hostage, but still, I strained to turn away from the woman as much as possible, begging to press my nose against the sliver of glass and light and drink in the beauty of foreign countrysides. My only response came at a nod, short and small, in her direction.

She took her place across from me, making barely a noise as she sank into the chair. Her boots dug into the carpet, heeled daggers that promised great pain if one did not listen. I did not need to look at her to know that her fierce eyes were directly on my face, watching closely for any moment of weakness that she could prey upon. Her voice was another weapon, sharp Russian piercing my ears with every syllable. "This mission depends solely on your ability to follow instructions, girl. There will be no defiance here, not more than you already exhibit. For your own safety."

"I am no idiot," I hissed, finally turning my gaze away from the window and towards her. Despite my wish to show more upset at her words, her accusation of a fault never shown, I did my best to keep my rising anger in check, though my cuffed palms itched for ill-spent revenge. "I will not be the one messing this up."

Inga's eyes flashed as she drew back and sat up in her chair. "You would do best to treat your new master - mother, with respect."

Of course, this woman was to be the 'mother' figure in this new life; the one who seemed not to have a single bone of 'love' in her body. Not that that was a surprise, for it was the Academy where emotions were shunned, but I doubted her place on such a mission and the choice that had been made with her. Agents like her seemed to be only meant for destruction after years and years of emotionless missions, and this was not any of that, even through layers of acting. Forget about me; she should be worried about herself.