Blitz spat blood out the side of his mouth and onto the slick black mat.

He glared his blue eyes at me. "I swear to god, if you knock out a tooth—"

"You'll be a pissy, toothless English pirate," I shrugged. "Which personally I think you could pull off. Now try and hit me again." I smiled devilishly to prompt him.

He pulled a knife out from the sheath at his thigh and flipped it around his fingers. He swung at me with it, and I felt the air by my forehead shiver as I ducked. I knocked his arm off target and swung out with my opposite hand to punch him in the cheek.

He took a step backwards from the blow. "Bloody hell it's like 7 in the morning why do you have to draw blood?" His English accent was sharp and accusative at this hour.

I smiled sweetly at him. He came at me again with the hand that had his knife, aiming for my heart, but at the last second tossed it to his other hand to cut me near my jaw line.

He waggled the tip of the blade at me as I tried not to stagger. "Alright, you know the rule. Every time you get hit you've got to tell me something in French. Your test is today. Come on." His blue eyes stared expectantly at me.

Every few months there are language tests for agents in training. Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, Russian, Dutch, Arabic, Norwegian, Mandarin, Chinese, Hindi, Danish, Japanese, German, Swahili, Korean, Swedish, Romanian, Greek, Danish, Bengali, Turkish, English, Sorani, Malay, Indonesian, Icelandic, Polish, Kashubian, Samoan, Bulgarian and Vietnamese are all taught at the agency. Along with a few more obscure ones. The Director picks which ones you learn as soon as you enter the system, so there's always an equal amount of agents who speak each language. The monthly French test was today and Blitz, James, Harrison and I had been in one of the training rooms since 5am practicing both sparring and French.

It was still early. Harrison and Blitz were sweating through their t-shirts, but James had a sweatshirt on and was huddled in a far corner fiddling with some communication device. Yesterday we'd done a similar thing, except it had been running on the track that was outside after training. The three of us ran for hours, while James sat in the middle of the track and added seconds to Harrison's times because of the brunet's failure to identify the seventh step in hacking phone lines.

In the past month I had learned a lot. James, Blitz and Harrison banded together to teach me everything they knew. We trained before and after regular day training, every day.

On Friday nights Flagg was slightly more lenient than usual, and agents were allowed to roam around the agency; usually betting on who could do the insane military obstacle course the quickest or who could throw knives from the longest distance or who could scale a building the fastest or playing knock out (literally, knock out).

Fucking boys. Idiots, really. They're weak too, I got the second best all-time record for the obstacle course my first try, knocking Owen out of the place he'd held for years. Oops, my bad.

Blitz, Harrison, James and I usually hung out in the middle of the field that was in the inside of the track on Fridays though, talking or smoking the weed Harrison always seemed to have on him. I wished Axel was around to experience recreational agency life with.

I fell asleep no problem each night with my muscles aching and mind humming with all the special spy equipment James excitedly explained how to use. I quickly learned he was a nerd like that. It was pretty funny the way his eyes would light up when I asked him what some tiny gadget did or how it was smuggled through security. The three boys became my teachers and my friends. They shared mission mishaps, successes, unorthodox adventures, and stories about their past lives.

I learned that Blitz was from Southampton, England, "rescued" by the agency when he was 11. His family owned a "liquor business," but was in reality a front for drug smuggling. When his entire family was arrested Flagg got word of a little orphaned boy who escaped from police custody before they sent him to juvenile prison for his part in trading and selling the stuff. Knew how to defend himself, always put others above himself, knew a suspicious amount about drugs, Flagg was lucky to find him, He'd been here for 12 years.

Harrison was from Trenton, New Jersey, and "admitted" to the agency when he was 12. He was from a military family, every single one of his family members had been soldiers. Flagg actually fought with Harrison's parents before being transferred to direct this place. When his parents died fighting abroad, Harrison found out that his mother had entrusted him to Flagg and the agency. He wears both his parent's dog tags around his neck, but despite coming from a background of biting your tongue and following orders without question, Harrison generally does the exact opposite, which didn't take me very long to figure out.

James was from Lake Charles, Louisiana. He came here when he was 13, "recruited" once they find out how he masterminded the take down of a brothel where his three older sisters, his only living family members, had been enslaved. They were arrested shortly afterwards, and James broke them out of prison. Yeah. He's a fucking badass. After he broke them out he'd been on the run from police until the agency found him first. Flagg molded his natural talents into an agent who's damage knew no bounds, even if his knee disabled him from combat mission status.

It had been two weeks since the agency doctors removed the capsule of tech from my eye. I still got migraines every few days, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was someone watching me, seeing what I was seeing. I guess it was a feeling that would never go away.

Other than that the past month hadn't been so bad. I had friends, I was finding a purpose again. James and I in particular stuck together and grew closer as the outlaws of the agency's society. But I didn't mind. I had friends, for the first time in a long time.

I gingerly touched the new cut on my face and the tips of my fingers came away with the slight hint of red in the prints. "Fils de pute," I spat at Blitz.

And by friends I meant boys who let me swear at them in other languages after they cut my face.

He sighed. "Something that's not an insult to my mum."

I pondered for a moment. "C'est une mauvaise méthode d'étude et je vous frappe plus souvent que vous ne me frappez," I said slowly.

"It's not a 'bad method,'" Harrison responded from the other side of the room. He was wrapping boxing tape around his wrists and thumbs. "Axel and I did it when we were learning Italian and whoever got hit had to say a sexual innuendo."

"Yeah, I'm sure that will come in handy on a mission," Blitz droned in monotone French.

"It will on his missions," James muttered from his corner.

"French girls love metaphors," Harrison continued as if he hadn't heard. "I'm still working on—"

"Getting laid on every continent, yeah, we're aware," Blitz crossed his arms across his chest.

"Damn straight." Harrison winked at us with his tongue out.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust. "You're despicable."

"In French please!" Blitz reminded me.

"Tu es malade." I said quickly, trying to accent the 'a's in malade, the French word for sick.

"Méprisable," Blitz corrected me. "In French sick just means sick like illness sick. The right word for describing twisted perverts such as Andrews, go with méprisable. Say it."

"Méprisable. Accent on the e, right?"

"Yep."

"See?" Harrison said, rejoining Blitz and I on the mat. "The method works. Right Strider?" He called over to James. James was still sitting in the corner of the training room. His red hair was disheveled from sleep as he repeatedly rewired the device in his hands.

He looked up. "Hva?"

"We're not on Portuguese yet Strider."

"That's Norwegian dumbass," Blitz said dully.

"Ich bin mir ziemlich sicher, dass es Deutsch ist."

"No, that was German."

"Pretty sure it was Swiss. Никога не си бил в Швейцария."

"They definitely don't speak Bulgarian in Switzerland you div."

"What about Romanian?"

"Just never mind!" Blitz quit trying to argue with Harrison's purposefully chaotic language mix ups. He glared at the smirking brunet, exasperated beyond his 23 years of age. He dragged his eyes away from Harrison and nodded to me. "Last round and then we'll go up 'right? I'm sweating, tired, annoyed as shit, hungry and bleeding." He glared at me.

"Only one of those is my fault," I pointed out.

Blitz rolled his eyes and then his shoulders. Harrison tilted his head to the side and cracked his neck. I stretched out my fingers as much as they could extend in the boxing tape.

"What am I setting the timer for this time?" James called over to us, looking down at his watch and preparing to reset it.

"Two minutes," Blitz got into fighting stance.

"Make it a minute 30 seconds," I smiled slyly.

"Oh Adira I love it when you get all cocky," mused Harrison, bouncing on his toes. "Makes me feel—"

"Ta gueule, Andrews!" Blitz and I shut him up at the same time.

-

James and I walked together up to the dining hall for breakfast while Harrison and Blitz went to shower and change. I stayed at the redhead's side as he limped up the stairs to the next floor, then down a couple hallways and towards the double doors that opened into the cafeteria. I still didn't like congregating in a large room surrounded by about 350 other males, but I was getting used to it.

The smell of food lured me in, which it didn't normally. Practicing every morning and evening with the boys, in addition to regular level training, had worked up my appetite to almost three meals a day.

I ran my eyes across the cafeteria. Brown circular tables dotted the room. Every agent was dressed the same, army-green cargo pants and short-sleeved black button-up shirts. Level trainers had a yellow band on their right arms that they slid on just above their elbows to signify their positions. The Director had a red band, and Owen had an orange one, but neither of them were here. Most boys kept their hair relatively short for easier functionality on missions and during training.

And then I saw him.

He sat at one of the tables in the middle of the room. His right side was to me, and his tray was shoved to the side and he had his elbows on the table as he enthusiastically explained something that had the other agents at his table intrigued. Probably his mission. He had been gone a whole month, probably doing way more than the mission agenda, like Harrison constantly went on spirals about.

He wore one of the short sleeved black button-ups, except unbuttoned to just a black t-shirt. I'd forgotten how much he looked like Harrison. His hair was a shade lighter, a dark honey brown, like tree bark in evening sunlight. He wore it like Harrison did too, long on the top, shorter at the sides and at the back of his neck. Not as mohawk-y as Blitz though. His physique was exactly like Harrison's too, athletic on the leaner side.

James suddenly slammed into the back of me, forcing me to finally take a breath.

"Oh sorry, I wasn't aware I was in the middle of the redwoods," he spurred sarcastically. He skirted me and looked into the cafeteria, balancing an arm on my shoulder. "What we looking at?" He scanned the room for moment and then uttered, "Oh." He must have spotted Axel. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his red head turn to me. "Oh."

"Shut up," I hissed through my teeth.

James chuckled. "Oh yeah no, no way I'll be shutting up." He folded his arms and turned to properly judge me. "Well? Are we going in or are you gonna be a coward?"

I drew in a deep breath. "Yes Strider, we're going in." I tightened my ponytail and started forward.

"Wait!" James suddenly cried, causing me to jump. He tugged me out the doorway and back out into the hallway. He knew how I was still pretty skittish sometimes. Even though I was talking more now, loud noises and quick movements still made me flinch before I could tell myself not to.

James placed me in front of him and gently tugged a couple of blonde strands of hair from my ponytail and arranged them down by either side of my ears. If it was anyone else getting this close to me I'd break their collarbone but James I didn't mind. I'd told him about what had happened to me when I was with those scientists, so he understood why I put people in choke holds and pulled a knife on anyone who got too close. Not as much as I'd told Axel, but still enough that we were now good friends.

The redhead stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he squinted his freckles together and examined his work. "Okay, now you're good." He pulled his hands away and laughed at my annoyed expression.

I rolled my eyes. "You didn't need—"

"Oh, but I did."

"I don't even—"

"Don't lie."

"Would you quit—"

"Interrupting you? No way."

"I hate you."

"This is fun watching you freak out."

"I'm not freaking out—"

"You sure?"

I shoved him away from me and stalked into the cafeteria.

"Don't want to unbutton anything?" James called.

I turned around and walking backwards flipped him off with both hands. A couple boys in the cafeteria whistled. James grinned and shook his head at the ground. I turned back around, slowing my stride as I got closer to the table where Axel sat. Unlike other boys he hadn't turned around when my middle fingers and I made our entrance; he still leaned back in his chair, the sides of his unbuttoned shirt splaying out on either side of him as he continued to speak with the rest of the boys at his table.

I appeared on his right. "Hi," I said.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine and he immediately sat up, banging his chest into the table and causing all the trays to jump over a few inches. Silverware clanged together and there were cries of complaints.

"Slick as fuck," some guy commented from his left.

"Hey. Wow, you're—you're here," Axel stammered, rubbing the spot on his torso where he'd slammed into the table.

"Nah. Just a figment of your imagination," I replied.

His eyes flicked to the thin strands dangling down on either side of my face, and then at the small braids that were threaded throughout my hair. I had done those yesterday while teaching Blitz how to braid. You would think someone who knows how to shoot a 50 cal through a millimeter-wide window with the aim to paralyze someone could be able to figure out hair braiding but it took him almost 45 minutes to catch on. He smiled, eyes coming back to my face. Thanks James.

He gestured for the agent on my right to move over so I could sit down next to him. He tugged his tray closer to himself and picked up his fork to start to eat his scrambled eggs. "What you been up to?"

I watched him shovel the mixture into his mouth. "Not a lot. I'm still getting used to everything. James and Harrison have been practicing with me before and after day training. Also Blitzen Ackley. Do you know him?"

Axel nodded with his mouth full. "Oh yeah, I know Blitz. English, level 5 trainer. Like a damn sushi chef with a knife."

A small smile crept up my face. "They talk about you." I bit my lip so my smile didn't completely invade my face like it was looking to after remembering all the stories the boys told me.

Axel set down his fork and put his elbows on the table. He clutched either side of his face with both hands. "Oh no," he groaned to his plate.

"Oh yes." I grinned. "The 'don't dive in the body water' story was my favorite."

He rubbed his forehead. "Harrison is so dead," he whispered with his eyes scrunched shut.

"That thing with the La Croix..."

Axel groaned.

I grinned some more. "The naughty avocado."

He rubbed his mouth with his eyes still shut.

"The anti-Christ pheasant."

"Is there anything they didn't tell you?"

"Amsterdam..." I continued, rolling my eyes up at the ceiling innocently.

"Wait which time?"

"The time you and Choi played Russian roulette with an Austrian mobster."

Axel pondered for a moment. "Yeah, you're gonna have to be a little more specific." I widened my eyes. "I'm kidding," he laughed, picking his fork back up and spearing a sausage. He wagged it at me. "That is the only time I've played Russian roulette."

"Oh, but the Austrian mobster is like a weekend thing?" I asked.

He bit into his sausage with a smirk on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "Can't wait for my first mission." I reached over and snagged a piece of melon off his plate. "I might actually get the job done."

"Hey!" He mumbled with his mouth full. I raised an eyebrow as a piece of meat escaped his mouth. He swallowed. "Sorry."

I snatched another piece of fruit off his tray. "It's fine. I've been surrounded my snarky, loud and abrasive boys for the past month. The standards I never had are now significantly lower."

"Thanks darling, means a lot," Blitz said from behind me, sitting down with Harrison at our table. They both had washed and were dressed in clean uniforms. Blitz nodded over at Axel in a greeting.

"Are you disagreeing with me about the manners thing?" I asked him.

"Well...no," he mumbled.

Axel stood up from his seat and did one of those bro hugs with Harrison, both of them pulling each other close for a couple seconds. "Glad you're alive, Laurie," Harrison said, pushing himself away and ruffling Axel's hair so it stuck up.

I coughed, "Laurie?"

Axel groaned again, dropping back into his seat.

Harrison laughed at his best friend. His chocolate-brown eyes were bright and mischievous under the hair hanging over his forehead that was still slick with water. He grinned. I hadn't seen a genuine smile on him yet, only that annoying smirk that made me want to scratch it off of him. He was happy to have his best friend back so they can share their conjoined misadventures and exaggerated feats of stupidity.

Wait, not stupidity. 'Smooth, calculated, and badass fun times,' as put by Harrison. He was high when he had explained. I didn't believe a word of it.

"As you can see," Blitz pointed his fork at me, which speared half a strawberry, "we have taken good care of your ward here. She has grown into quite the ass-kicker," he said with admiration in his voice.

"Oh please, I was always an ass-kicker, you did shit," I smirked at him.

"She'd not my 'ward.'" Axel said, stabbing at another sausage. "I just didn't give up on her," he mused to me.

I smiled wide. He really hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't going to give up on me. Sure James and I had gotten close, but Axel was somehow...different. When he said even the simplest saying like that, my whole body buzzed. I was starting to cherish the feeling.

-

The four of us exchanged our monthly activities for about 20 minutes until I noticed Axel staring at me sincerely.

"Can we talk outside for a sec Adira?" He suddenly asked.