Code Green , ᶜᵃʳᵐᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁿᵈᶦᵉᵍᵒ

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Who's she?" a strong Boston accent greeted me. "Carm?"

Carmen had basically linked her arm around mine to ensure I wouldn't do anything, and I knew she was mostly but not totally sold on the idea that I'm past working for VILE.

I have to give it to her for her rightful suspicions.

Before we left for their headquarters, she swept me for any trackers or communicators that I could have on me and, because I'm not an idiot, she found none.

So now, we're standing at the doorway of a pretty large building that encompassed a good mass of ground. I find myself raising my eyebrows at the sheer spectacle before me.

They must've used part of VILE's funds they had stolen in order to purchase all this. I don't know how else they could've afforded it; after all, she's a thief who typically steals only to ensure we can't get to the items.

Then she returns it. I never did understand her for that— her noble causes behind her thievery is something I could never see myself doing. It's simply pointless. Why would you care about that? If I'm stealing something, it's either because VILE put me up to it or because I wanted it for myself.

Perhaps I wasn't the most kind person, but I was sensible enough to know of the opportunities money brings.

I bring my eyes back down to the door, where a messy redhead stood. He wore a baggy t-shirt that was loose on his torso, and he was standing in a very awkward pose. He was staring openly at me. "Carm?" he repeated confusedly.

"She's with me," Carmen said simply, and pulled me inside with her. "This is... Parrot," she introduced me, and let go of my arm. From the corner of my eye I noticed the redhead from before not so subtly locking the door.

I wasn't too worried, though. Carmen seemed like the only capable person here thus far. He seemed pretty incompetent; I wondered if Carmen really recruited him or maybe he was just here for other purposes.

Maybe he was a friend.

Friend? Carmen never had any friends aside from me.

A pang deep in my gut made me twist my lower lip into my mouth. A sharp sour taste colored my tongue, and a strange feeling pitted my insides- but I couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"You can sit down, you know," Carmen told me, quirking up a brow at me.

I was standing stiffly in the middle of the room, observing the interior of the headquarters curiously. "Of course," I say, and go to sit down next to her. I sprawl out on the couch lazily and prop my feet on the ottoman. "So, is he working for you?" I flick my finger in the direction of the young Boston adolescent.

"Yes, he is," Carmen confirmed.

"And he wants to know who you are," he spoke, walking up to us, arms crossed over his chest in suspicion.

"I'm Parrot," I state dryly, which he already knew.

"Is that your real name?" he said, frowning. "Why'd your parents name you that? Seems kind of stupid to me."

I roll my eyes. "Of course my parents didn't name me Parrot. That was my code name in VILE academy." I knew there was no use in trying to beat around the bush. It was best to go straight to the heart of the matter.

"You're a VILE operative?" He gasped, and immediately ran towards me, as if ready to lunge and throw me the ground— as monkeys commonly do when fighting amongst their kind, and this boy probably doesn't know anything else having been raised by them— only for Carmen to grab his hands and knock him back.

"Calm down, Zack," she said, shaking her head. So that was his name. Zack. It does seem rather fitting of a monkey to have that name. "She hasn't attacked me, and in fact, I'm still waiting to hear the rest of her story." She side eyed me, as if silently telling me to explain.

I shrug, and run my hand through my hair, feeling the small entanglements separate through my fingers. "Honestly, there's not much to tell," I confess, rubbing my eyes. "In jail, I had plenty of time to reflect upon everything that happened and I realized VILE never cared about us. We were out there risking our lives for an organization who used us as mere puppets. Not to mention how incredibly brainwashed we all were. I still can't believe I fell for all their bullshit. They fed me lie after lie and expected me to eat it all up. Those once sweet lies live inside me now, and I can taste how bitter they are as they're rushing up my throat. But I'm working through it. I know— I know there's nothing I can do but move on and this time, do everything in my power to defy their ill-minded association." I finished, and met an imminent silence to my words.

I was rather proud of what came out my mouth. I did feel rather angry at VILE, for all the rightful reasons that include not caring about me as an operative at all, and not spending a single dollar from their billion dollar funds, all but sitting on their plump rich asses to watch me suffer— and I channeled what I had into my thread. It spun into a beautifully woven story that surely they must believe.

The silence was broken by both of them speaking in unison.

"What?"

"I think you'd make a great addition to our team."