DON'T LET IT GET PERSONAL

0.01

Vacation was a horrible experience all together. His bones and muscles became restless from the lack of action, and his mind felt like a ticking time bomb. Everywhere he went he was on the look out, waiting for a horrific event to take place because bad things followed him everywhere. It had been a little over a month since he had been out in the field or on a mission, and his mind was drifting.

All the thoughts he pushed out of his mind came twisting back into his life. He had let them think he died, and even though he reasoned with himself that it was for the best, sometimes the little bit of emotion that was left in him, wanted to see them. He didn't want a hug, a pity party, or even a kiss on the cheek. Rapp just wanted to know if they were alive without actually knowing. If he looked into their files, he didn't know if he could keep a leveled head if he read the taunting red words that remarked them or one of them as "DECEASED".

And as he lay in his hotel room he knew he was a selfish man to wish for his friends to be alive, when he let them believe he was dead. Rapp let out a sigh, as he reassured himself that he was dead, that the boy he used to be was no more. That he had died along with his father and his beloved girlfriend in a terrorist attack on the plane they had been on to look at colleges in New York. When in fact he had already been in New York, it was only the people he loved who were on the plane.

Then Rapp got up to try to shake his thoughts from his mind, only to grab tightly onto his makeshift computer desk on his way to the bathroom. Then he heard his voice, and it sounded different than in any of the other flashbacks he had had. Almost like he was forgetting how gruff or soft his father's voice was.

"We are about to board the plane, you better have your ass at the airport because Mary and me will surely get to the hotel ourselves and lock you out...Anyway love you, bye son."

He could still remember hearing Mary's laugh at his father's words, but just like his father's voice he could not remember the exact sound. Mitch tried not to shake at the fact his father had hung up before he could say love you back. He knew his father knew that, he also knew the last noise he heard come from his son's mouth was a scoff in reply to his joke.

His shaking receded as a phone started to vibrate in a pattern. It would stop for a second, and then buzz to life. He reached for his burner phone that he used to typically contact Irene or Stan.

"Hello, Irene," Mitch answered after viewing the caller ID. He heard her heels clicking through the hallway she was most likely traveling through to find who she was looking for.

"Hello, Mitch. I hope you enjoyed your vacation because it is over starting tomorrow. Fly out to Virgina and meet me at Hurley's home. I think it would be best to discuss matters there because Tom Stanisfield does not want me to put you on a mission yet," Irene stated, her voice never faltering despite the fact she was discussing something rather private.

"I will be there in the morning, I can keep a secret," he responded with no emotion, but on the inside he was happy. With the phone placed on speaker he begun to pack.

"I know you can keep a secret, that is why I am telling you this. You cannot tell Stanisfield about this, I do not care if he comes up to you on the street and kidnaps you. This is my job on the line for this mission," Irene whispered, and her heels stopped their relentless pattern.

The ding of an elevater could be heard, and Mitch assumed she had company in the tight space so he was not descriptive with his answer. He knew how easy it was to blow someone's cover, after all, his fellow workers had left him hanging in that position more than once. Now, he worked alone and he was not lonely in the slightest. He did his job, and killed with precision that would not be capable with untrained monkeys on his back.