Loving The President's Son

03: Boom, You're Dead

Chapter 3: Boom, You're Dead

"Trouble?" I cocked my head to the side, "What kind of trouble?"

"A couple months back, I messed with a couple people..." Noah stood up from the couch with a frustrated expression plaguing his face, "They're part of the British Mafia."

"What? Are you sure they weren't just a bunch of chavs?" I folded my arms and leant back into the couch.

He shook his head, "No they're not those wannabe gangs where kids steal and smoke a 'fag' in groups behind corner shops."

"Well then what did you do to these people that got you into trouble?"

"I was taking one of the agency's missions in England to take down some human traffickers, I ended up sneaking away the people who were kidnapped and blowing up the warehouse they were in."

"Turns out, that warehouse belonged to the British Mafia because humans were part of what they dealt," He continued, "And one of the people killed in the explosion was their second in command and part of their inner circle."

"So you're telling me, you mistook something and caused an accident so now a bunch of bloody road men are coming after you?" I said in simpler terms.

He shrugged, "I mean when you put it like that... yeah."

"I don't understand though, they're coming for you because of some weird vendetta stuff?" I stretched myself across the couch.

"I don't know how British mafia gang road men thingys think, maybe we can just offer to sort this out over tea," Noah turned to look at me, "British people like tea right?"

"Americans, the British and tea...doesn't that sound familiar?" I raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, the Boston Tea Party."

"Okay fine, how do you think we deal with this then?"

I thought for a while, "I don't really know, I haven't dealt with a lot of problems from Britain."

"I'd say, let the come to us first. We can see what we're up against, see their advantages and exploit their weaknesses." I suggested.

He nodded his head, "I agree but what if their first attack is really bad? Like 'big bad wolf blowing the third pig's brick house down in one try' bad."

I rolled my eyes at his analogy, "Then they would've already used up all their resources while we haven't wasted a smidge of ours."

***

Since it was a weekday, I went down to the training centre in HQ to sometimes volunteer as an instructor for the new agents-in-training (A.I.Ts).

After slipping on simple black gym clothes and an intimidating scowl, I marched into the gym where I found the young recruits standing in a line in front of Ace who had the same scary stance as I did.

Ace was done training to be an agent (which he had done remarkably quickly since I was his teacher and I did not fuck around those lessons) but all he had left to do was go on a real mission.

So when he wasn't busy preparing to take over his uncle's company or waiting to be given a mission, he trained the 'baby agents'.

Although, I wouldn't call them that. They'd probably disarm you before you could.

The agents we were training ranged from about 5 - 18 years old. The agency had a rule that if you were over 18, the only job you could get would be technical. They said it was because it would be too late to teach the mindset you would need to be an agent as they've lived a majority of their life without one.