“So when are they supposed to get here, anyway?”
Rosa frowned, checking her watch. “They’re a little bit late, it seems. Probably hit traffic or something. Give it time, they’ll get here.”
Eric sighed, interlocking his fingers behind his head as he looked up into the sky. Dark clouds had gathered overhead, a sign that summer had ended and fall had finally approached. It was yet another cold and soon-to-be-wet Virginia day.
Part of him couldn’t help but feel that was some kind of bad omen, almost.
“If they make us wait out here in the rain, I’m gonna be pissed.”
Rosa sighed tiredly, running a hand through her flowing black hair. “Just be patient, Eric. They can’t be that far out.”
“If you say so.” Eric unlocked his fingers, then reached into his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. Rosa’s frown deepened as the telltale sound of his lighter being flicked open reached her ears.
“Must you do that now?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be trying to make a good first impression on her.”
Eric waved her off as he lit up his cigarette, then took a drag from it and exhaled. “She was in the military. Guarantee you she’s seen plenty of people smoke before.”
“Still, you’re supposed to be setting a good example for her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? She shouldn’t need a role model, she’s a grown-ass woman. Her file said she was, like, twenty-four. That’s not much younger than I am.”
“Telling, then, that she’ll more likely be the mature one out of the two of you.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Oh, bite me.”
Rosa opened her mouth to respond, but didn’t get a chance to before her phone began to buzz in her pocket. She paused, then pulled it out to check her messages, her face lighting up as she did so.
“They’re a minute out,” she said. The moment the words left her mouth, she turned to Eric, giving him a harsh stare from behind her ever-present sunglasses. “Behave yourself.”
Eric simply held up his hands in surrender before taking another drag from his cigarette. Rosa seemed intent on him playing nice today, and that was what he intended to do, especially since he’d already signed the paperwork saying he’d take Thirteen into his home.
Part of him regretted it already. He’d underestimated exactly how much work letting another person room with him was going to be. The house was big enough for both of them, thankfully, but it was already bringing back memories of having to bunk with his squadmates in the Marines during the war.
At that thought, the memories came flooding back yet again, and Eric grimaced as he forced them out of his mind. Once they were gone, he took a long drag from his smoke before pulling the stub out of his mouth and throwing it on the ground, then grinding it beneath his heel.
Normally, he tried to make a point not to leave cigarette butts on his own driveway, but there were exceptions to every rule.
He leaned against his garage door and crossed his arms over his chest, already craving another smoke. He held himself back, though – the last thing he needed to do was start chain-smoking this early. Then again, Rosa had already stopped him from going for the cheap whiskey, so perhaps she wouldn’t mind indulging him this one time.
Eric was in the process of reaching for another cigarette and his lighter when a small convoy of black SUVs with tinted windows pulled out from around the corner and stopped in front of his house. He watched, curious, as several men in suits filed out, then approached the vehicle in the middle and threw the rear driver’s side door open, allowing its lone occupant to step out.
It was her, all right – Thirteen looked exactly the same in-person as she did in her picture. It was all there - the flowing blonde hair, the artificial electric-blue eye… it was downright striking. Eric’s heart actually skipped a beat when he first laid eyes on her, and as if on cue, she reached for an eyepatch on her forehead and brought it down to cover her artificial eye. This was a person who had to have a body count in the thousands, at the very least; given the secretive nature of the Angel program, he’d be surprised if her actual body count didn’t dwarf that by an order of magnitude. This young woman was little more than a killing machine, raised into a weapon that was to be pointed at humanity’s enemies, and already, he could tell that she had the scars to prove it.
He was staring face-to-face with arguably the single deadliest person in all of human history, and yet somehow, that thought faded very quickly when he saw how she was looking around at his home. She had the gaze of an apex predator searching for its newest piece of prey, and yet something about it was completely hollow. She was retired now, so all of the training, all the shooting and destruction and murder, meant nothing anymore.
His gaze met her one good eye, the one not covered by an eye patch, and in that moment, Eric was able to realize what the problem was.
She was completely lost.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Two men in suits suddenly stepped forward. They were both tall, standing at six-and-a-half feet each, and their outfits matched Rosa’s, though somehow Eric could tell they were more official than even she was. They both wore very dark sunglasses and had earpieces in, and the way their suit jackets shifted as they walked was just enough to tell him that they were both carrying handguns in shoulder holsters. The more serious-looking of the two was fair-skinned, with a receding black hairline and a thin layer of facial hair, while the slightly more personable one was dark-skinned and completely bald.
“So, you’re the intelligence spooks, then?” Eric couldn’t hold himself back from asking. “Let me guess – if anything happens to her or if I reveal her true nature to anyone, it’s straight to a government black site for me?”
“Officially, the government does not operate any black sites,” Receding Hairline stated matter-of-factly. “Unofficially, you are in the presence of a war hero. Do not let anything happen to her, or else.”
Eric simply nodded. “Well, if you’re trying to keep this a secret, you’re doing a pretty shit job of it. I’m pretty sure I see a few of the neighbors looking out through their blinds already, no doubt wondering what’s going on.”
“Thirteen’s face is known only to a select few,” the other suit said. “And we’ve put together an extensive cover ID for her, which she has completely memorized by this point. You will be provided a copy, of course, should a situation ever arise where you will be required to validate any of it.”
Eric waved them both off. “Yeah, yeah. Are you going to introduce us any time soon, or keep talking my ear off about nothing and issuing implicit threats?” He thought of something, then turned to Rosa. “Also, where’s my money?”
“The money will be wired directly to your account on a monthly basis, starting at the end of this week,” she reported. “Should she need anything else that you cannot cover with those funds, let us know and we will overnight a check.”
Eric blinked, surprised. “Really rolling out the red carpet, aren’t you?”
“The entire human race owes its continued existence to the Angels,” the bald man chimed in. “No expense is too great for them.”
Before Eric could say anything else, both suits suddenly stepped aside and motioned for Thirteen to come forward. She didn’t hesitate, and marched over to stand between them. She stopped a short ways away, and then to Eric’s chagrin, she did something he hadn’t had anyone do to him in years.
She saluted him.
“Sir, Lieutenant Rebecca-013, or Thirteen, at your service, Sir,” she rattled off, her voice almost completely monotone.
Eric was taken aback. He stared at her for just a moment before grimacing, then waved her off.
“You don’t have to salute me,” he said to her. “I’m retired. Have been for years. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t salute me.”
Still, Thirteen didn’t drop her salute. Eric sighed tiredly. “At ease, Lieutenant.”
The moment the words left his mouth, she dropped it, relaxing slightly. Once that was done, she looked around once more, focusing on his house. After a moment, she turned to Rosa.
“This is where I will be staying?”
“It is,” she confirmed with a nod.Thirteen said nothing further, instead turning back to examine the house once more. Eric stepped forward, clearing his throat.
“I can show you around,” he offered. “Let you know where you’ll be staying, and all that.” He looked over to Rosa. “Does she have any luggage to bring inside?”
“I have my essentials with me,” Thirteen cut in.
“I’ll get those,” Rosa said. “Eric, show her around, we’ll get everything out and set up.”
With that, her and the suits moved away, heading for the convoy of SUVs still lined up outside his driveway. Eric watched her go, then let out a sigh before turning to Thirteen.
“I guess that’s that, then,” he said. “Come with me, I’ll show you the place.”
“Affirmative, Sir,” Thirteen replied.Eric forced himself to hold back from lighting another cigarette as they both stepped inside his house.
“And this is your room.”
Eric stepped aside, allowing Thirteen to look at where she’d be staying. She knew it wasn’t much for most people, just a single bedroom with an attached bathroom, but to her, it was more than that. She’d never had a room of her own, even after moving on from training; everything had always been shared with other Angels, or at the very least, other soldiers and Marines. She took a few tentative steps inside the room, and after a few seconds, turned towards him with a nod.
“Thank you, Sir.”Eric’s brow furrowed. “Stop calling me Sir. I haven’t been in the military for years, now.”
Thirteen blinked. “You outrank me-”
“We’re both civilians now. Rank means nothing at this point.”
Thirteen blinked again. “Affirmative.”
Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s pretty late in the day, alright? I’m hungry and thirsty, so I’m going to throw together a very basic dinner for both of us – figure that’s the least I can do to officially welcome you here. Are you okay with chicken?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Get yourself settled here, I’ll call for you when the food’s done.”
Thirteen nodded, then fell silent. The two of them stared at each other before Eric took a few awkward steps out of the room, then began to make his way to the kitchen.
“This was a terrible idea…” he muttered as he began to pull out the ingredients for a very basic lemon chicken.
Still, terrible idea or not, they were officially stuck together now. He’d signed the paperwork, and as far as he could tell, she’d signed her end of it too. That meant they shared a government contract, and if his service with the Marines was any indication, government contracts were as binding as they came.
If nothing else, Thirteen seemed relatively easy to get along with, if only because she seemed to think that him outranking her meant anything at this point. That was going to be a bad habit of hers he’d have to break, he realized.
After all, the last thing he wanted was her dredging up bad memories, unintentionally or not.
A chill went down his spine, and despite himself, Eric reached for the nearby bottle of bourbon he’d opened not too long ago and took a swig directly from it. It tasted like turpentine, but he wasn’t complaining.
Anything to numb the pain.
In any case, it didn’t take long for him to get dinner ready. Before long, it was all set at the countertop, waiting for her; he had already started eating on his own and was just about to call for Thirteen when she stepped out from around the corner, far more quiet than he’d have expected. That earned a raised eyebrow from him – this house had hardwood floors, and yet he hadn’t heard her footsteps at all. Then again, given what she had allegedly been doing during her time in the service, that probably shouldn’t have surprised him too much.
One does not make entire enemy lines disappear in the middle of the night without picking up at least a few bits of knowledge regarding stealth, he supposed.
They both ate in silence, and once they were finished, Eric cleaned up, and they both went their own separate ways. He stared as Thirteen disappeared into her new room, closing the door behind her as she went.
“Hell, I don’t know,” he said to himself as he finished setting the dirty plates and silverware in the dishwasher. “Maybe this whole arrangement will be bearable, after all.”