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

Chapter 21

The loud blare of my watch wakes me the next morning. Harry is nowhere to be found, his make-shift bed completely deserted. Although usually I'm the one to wake him, I'm not surprised that he's gone. After his weird behaviour last night I'm shocked he could even sleep in the same room as me. I don't know why he seemed so upset, but I'm sure there's no point in asking. Not unless I want another shouting match.

I rub the harsh sleep from my eyes and get dressed for the morning. Thankfully when I emerge from the gym, Harry is standing ready in the boxing ring for me. Today we're doing combat training.

Although usually I feel a nervous pit in my stomach when it comes to fighting, I've been getting more and more confident lately. With all the moves Harry has taught me, I'm as competent as any other recruit here. I understand now how to take down targets without getting taken down myself in the process. I hope during our next combat training session with the General, I'll be able to show him exactly what I've learnt-

The General... How could I forget?

What the hell did I hear last night? What could all of it mean? First the missile plans Harry and I found on two separate occasions, the weird conversations we heard off base and inside of it. Not to mention that all the documents we're being sent to find seem very... well... militaristic.

But that makes sense. We're training for bloody MI6, of course all the information we focus on is going to be military information. The weird missile targets and shady phone calls don't, though. As the days, even the hours, pass, I doubt Sander's character more and more. But what is there to do? If I confront him I doubt I'll get an answer, I'll just be getting a train ticket out of here. Telling the others will be too unpredictable- I have no idea what any of them might do with the information. I guess I could confide in Harry, but he doesn't seem to have any better idea of what to do than me.

As I approach the ring and climb over the ropes, I try not think about it. I need to focus right now and there's no point letting such confusing thoughts cloud my mind. I'll have to figure out what to do later.

"Good morning." I greet Harry cautiously. I'm not sure what his mood will be like today considering everything that transpired last night. He looks up and gives me a quick nod of the head, but otherwise remains silent. Ah, it's going to be that kind of day...

"What are we doing today?" I ask hesitantly, keeping my voice quiet and soft, eager to avoid upsetting him. I really don't need anymore conflict considering the conflict which already thrives between the thoughts in my head.

"Um... just some leg work. I noticed you don't aim very well when you kick." Harry shrugs before darting his gaze away from mine. How the hell am I supposed to work with him if he's going to be so squirrelly the entire time?

"Alright then..." I sigh, shrugging off the insult- "Where do I start?"

Harry doesn't say a word as he steps forward and stands tall in front of me. He starts to bend down, I'm assuming to correct my posture, but stops himself. He freezes halfway through the action, seems to consider something for a second, then bends back up.

"Widen your stance. Spread your feet apart a little bit. It'll be easier to aim." Harry directs, taking a step away from me. What the hell was that? It's as if he was stopped by an invisible fence that surrounds my body.

"Like this?" I ignore his strange behaviour and try to carry on with the lesson.

"Yeah. And turn your feet forward, don't face them outwards." He directs. I shift my feet.

"Is this good?"

"No- not like that. Turn them in more."

I huff and shift my feet again. A crease grows between Harry's brows.