I'm Not Special, I'm Just Unlucky

Chapter 3 - Romeo Hotel Nine-One Everybody!

Amber Heard as Eva Clinton

Beep beep... Beep beep...

I grunted and slammed my alarm clock shut. As the morning sunlight beamed into my bedroom, I got up and deeply inhaled the fresh air of the woods. Home sweet home, there's no other place like it.

After a week in Chicago sleeping on the hard floor, I was grateful to be back on my bed. The second I came back, I crashed immediately. And when I say immediately, I mean not stopping for a bite despite not having eaten for a day or taking a shower even though my clothes were decorated with Burke's dried blood; I just stripped and slept. Unfortunately, I also forgot to turn on the AC, so I woke up drenched in sweat.

Feeling sticky and uncomfortable, I grabbed a towel and a fresh set of clothes and headed towards the bathroom down the hall. The house was exceedingly quiet which came as no surprise since there was barely anyone here, not to mention it was also six in the morning. Waking up this early was normal for me. In fact, the Enterprise required all its agents to wake up fully conscious at any given time. "It was a safety precaution" as they say.

I passed by Blake's bedroom and heard his loud, rhythmic snoring. The guy must've came home late last night from finishing the New York mission with Victoria. Blake was sleeping on his stomach with his suit still on and just like me, he didn't turn his AC on. No doubt he'll wake up doused in his own sweat. Across Blake's bedroom was Victoria's; her door was closed and sign hung from the door knob saying, "Trespassers will be shot on sight."
H
Blake Kerpan and Victoria Lance were exceptional Enterprise agents. Blake was recruited four years ago, the same time I was; in fact, we trained in the same platoon. After the camp, we were assigned different teams but after many reassignments, they placed us into our current team, the Romeo Hotel Nine-One. Victoria on the other hand was one of the most venerable agents of the entire agency. Recruited at the age of 16 and made a killing machine at 17, she had more field experience and skills than the two of us combined.

I opened the shower and rinsed myself in the cool, refreshing water. As the dried bloodstains flowed down the drain, I inspected my wound on the left shoulder. Luckily, it was just a flesh wound, nothing serious. The areas where the acid hit was bright red and stung when touched. Compared to my other cuts and bruises, this one was nothing. Having been hunting criminals actively for three years, my body was tattooed with bullet wounds and knife marks. It's almost as if I was the walking dead, which, to be fair, I was. To the entire world, I had died four years ago. In order to cover up my disappearance, the Enterprise claimed that I was killed in a gas station explosion. My body was burnt beyond recognition and the case was closed. No further investigation. To my relatives and friends, I was with the angels. In reality, I was at Camp Vyincourd...

***** 4 years ago *****

"Rise and shine motherfuckers! And welcome to Camp Vyincourd, where you'll spending the rest of your miserable lives in if you don't graduate. Haha!"

I looked out the window of the transport helicopter. It was pitch black outside and heavy rain pelted the helicopter. Over in the distance, lightning strikes lit up the sky like artillery blasts. I grabbed my bag and info forms and jogged out of the aircraft.

"Move, move, move!"

I followed the crowd into shelter. There were around twenty to thirty of us, all males, ranging from 18 to 25 years old. As the rest of the crew got into the hangar, a man in his sixties approached us, accompanied by a group of soldiers. He was dressed in a navy blue suit decorated with medals and ribbons, and although it was dark out, he had sunglasses on. As he neared the group, everyone stopped talking; silence immediately filled the hangar.