NUMBER TWO

CODENAME: JUDITH

STATUS: ACTIVE, ON DUTY

LOCATION: SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

The target was Morly Adcock, the cyber security millionaire. I was in his favourite club; terrible, overpriced, hipster place that it was. Standing at the bar with the shy Asian look going on because our intel says he’s into the ‘exotic submissive’ type.

I know, tech bro is a racist piece of shit, what a shocker.

I sighted him through the crowd and I had my cleavage out so I knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed me. When I did catch his eye I gave him a shy girl flick. That’s when you see them spot you looking, you blush and look down at your drink, then look back up, flick your hair, smile a tiny bit and then hide behind your fringe.

He sauntered over, trying to look casual, and offered to buy me a drink. I asked for a Black Russian in my best generic Eastern European accent, the one with the random English-is-not-my-first-language pauses.

He bought me a drink and one for himself and I spun out my cover story about being stood up and we swapped ‘isn’t modern dating horrible’ stories and he tried to match me drink for drink.

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Once again the British Army issue liver is undefeated. He called for a car but by the time it got to his place I had to ‘help’ him inside.

It was a smart house. Everything inside had biometric locks, all keyed to him. The safe, the fridge, the home entertainment system, all his tech kit, all of it required him, with a pulse. None of it required him to be awake. It’s a good thing that he’s one of those ‘too important to waste my precious time on food’ types. I had to drag the lanky dickhead all over the house, unlocking everything, so I could get the details of his new Cryptex programme back to HQ. That’s why he was with me in his office when my phone went off.

And yes, of course I had it on silent, but I had it set to vibrate and it was on his glass desk. It made this horrible chattering noise, vibrated over to the metal desk lamp and started ringing it like a fucking bell. It was one of the most annoying things I’ve ever heard and I’ve heard the boss sing.

I grabbed the phone and I read ‘ACHILLES IS DOWN. RECALLED TO LONDON. IMMEDIATE. HIGH PRIORITY.’ And just then the arsehole woke up.

I didn’t kill him. I wanted to. I really fucking wanted to. Instead I climbed into his lap and started undressing him, and kissing him at the same time, but awkwardly, like a drunk. So awkwardly that I ‘accidentally’ elbowed him in the face and knocked him out.

I stripped him and put him to bed with some lipstick smeared on his dick. Then I left him a nice note about having to leave for an early start with an illegible phone number on it. I put everything back where it was supposed to be and I was in the air on the way back before he woke up.

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Number Two drained the last of the drink that she’d been sipping as she spoke. Seven refilled it for her. She took the bottle from him and looked around the room. Number Three was holding a fresh glass out.

'May as well do this in order,' he said as Number Two poured.