Newly recruited Agent Scarlett Pierce was a determined woman - just waiting for the chance to take on her first true mission. She had worked alongside sexist men for almost a year now, wanting only to be considered an equal.
And as America turns up...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
"I NEED TO GO TO NEW YORK, SIR," Scarlett told her boss, sliding over a folder of the information on Anonymous she had collected over the past few days. It wasn't as full of evidence as she would have liked it to be -- but it was enough to prove herself to him.
When the men in her workplace first started being sexist to her, the Agent made a silent promise in her head to never let it get to her. Scarlett didn't have to prove herself to a man to prove that she was worthy of their time and respect, but it was harder to go by that rule when it was your own supervisor.
Chris sputtered out the coffee that had been in his mouth right back into the cup, his eyes widened. The man quickly regained his posture, straightening out his shoulders. He took the handkerchief from his shirt pocket, wiping his lips with the small piece of cloth. "What?"
"I need to go to New York," she repeated.
The blond folded the blue patterned handkerchief carefully, tucking in back into his shirt pocket. "Scarlett, I can't let you do that," Chris sighed, looking at the woman knowingly.
"Why not, sir?"
Scarlett refused to give up on it this easily.
The brunette had worked hour after hour tirelessly with scraps of evidence -- desperately trying to connect the dots. With new leads popping up left and right with the help of Kaden, why was Chris so intent on her staying here? The woman knew that if she were any other Agent in this building, he would have already given her the permission to go.
"New York is a dangerous place," Chris began. "Do you know how many Agents we've lost there in the past years? It seems to me that you're going after just any evidence you can find on this and that worries me. And with these protests and riots, your safety is at even more risk than it was before. We can't lose you."
Arthur, Hugh, Richard, Liam, and Benjamin were the five Agents whose lives had been lost to a drug cartel in New York. Their names had not been forgotten.
New York was a dangerous place, but what Chris failed to realize was that Scarlett was required to go through self defense classes every single month along with the more common types of training. Firearms, handling knives, talking with terrorists and negotiation. The woman could handle herself.
Besides, Scarlett knew that with the protests in the streets — she was more likely to be shot in the face with a rubber bullet by a racist cop than to be beaten up and killed by another protester.
"I'm not going after any evidence I can find," the Agent defended herself, anger boiling in her chest at his blatant sexism. "If I was, I would be requesting to go to Chicago."
