On Her Majesty's Secret Service ~ H.S.

Chapter 2

10 boys and girls assemble in the gray room. The setting seems dishevelled now. Most chairs are out of place or simply gone, and now that the three extra doors have closed, I can't help but feel a little claustrophobic. I push the inkling of doubt from my mind and set my sights on the tall, important looking man standing before us.

He wears some sort of military uniform, but the stripes adorned across his breast are unfamiliar to me. A golden badge trims his shoulder, but I can't quite make out the writing engraved across it. I see he holds a black flat cap in his hands, leaving his greying hair on full display. This man intimidates me as soon as I see him.

No one dares to take a seat. Instead, somehow, we all automatically fall into a line. I keep my back straight, my feet together, and my arms at my sides. I need to make a good first impression. Most don't take me seriously when they see my appearance, but they don't know what I've been taught, what I can do that most others can't.

As the grey-haired man looks away for a minute to gaze upon a screen in his hand, I spare a second to glance around. Every other recruit in the room stands like me- stiffly and professionally- except for one. It's the goddamn brown-haired boy who took my gun. As I look back in front of me, I can't help the tiny smirk that invades my face. I know he'll be gone in a matter of days, if not a matter of hours. He's not cut out for the military- that's obvious.

His shoulders are slouched and his hands rest casually in the pockets of his worn jeans. His polo is faded and I see tiny holes in it's collar. His trainers used to be white, I think, but now resemble a muddy brown. One shoe's blackened laces are tied, one shoe simply doesn't have laces. Yet, he stands as if he owns the room, not as if it's a privilege to be inside it. I roll my eyes, careful to make sure the intimidating man in front of me doesn't see.

After another minute or two the silence is cut by a harsh, commanding voice.

"Recruits! I'm General Sanders. Welcome to the MI6 special agent forces. You have all been selected for a reason- you know what you're doing, and if you don't, you will by the end of these two months. Only one person will be left standing at the end of this program." He begins, before taking a long pause to survey us all. His eyes are cold and calculating, zeroing in on each individual one by one. I keep my gaze straight ahead, but it's difficult. His stare makes me want to shrink away.

"You'll work hard, and if you don't improve, you're out." General Sanders states. I nod acutely and feel a fierce determination inside myself. I am going to work hard and I am going to improve. I'm going to be the one person left standing. I know it.

"We'll begin training tomorrow. For now, I'll take you down to the recruit quarters so you can get acquainted. First, though, I want each of your names." The general commands. The prospect of speaking to him is daunting, but I hush my concerns. There's no time, and certainly no tolerance, for someone who can't even state their own name in MI6.

I stand in the middle of the line. I listen as each person lists their name. A tall, blonde, muscular boy at the end says his name is Adam. I'm delighted to find that the girl with the pixy cut, Sarah, stands next to him. She'll be training with me. Unfortunately, next to her also stands the blonde girl who refused to talk to me. I come to learn her name is Victoria.The rest of the line I don't recognize, except of course for the curly-haired asshole who took my gun.

It's my turn.

"Rosy Frasier, sir." I state boldly and confidently. I don't turn to either of my sides to judge the reactions of the other recruits. They have all included sir when addressing the General, too. I am glad they seem to know what they're doing.