After a short safety-check and stock-up of parachutes and first aid equipment, we boarded to leave London and begin the journey to the Alps.

Having had no sleep while in the coffee shop, I took my couple hours of pause from the action to doze for a short while, putting my earphones in to drown out the roar of the engine.

While approaching the final half hour of the journey, I started to wake. I still kept my eyes closed, however, desperate to snatch as much sleep as possible, but even over the blasting music coming from my earphones, I could still hear Scotty's uncontrollable laughter.

"What is it?" I asked, suddenly realising I was shouting as I ripped out the earphones by the wires. I hadn't heard him so amused to the brink of tears in a long time and could feel my cheek muscles tightening at his contagious laughter.
"He, he, he!"he giggled, hiccupping before letting out a cackle. "L-look at this!"

He leaned over, pressing play on a clip of downloaded security footage from the cruise ship. I furrowed my brows for a moment, jaw dropping as I recognised the moment Barnes had slammed the billiard room door in my face. Scotty had looped to clip, making the door repeatedly smack me. I wanted to be mad but struggled to retain my laughter.

"Dick," I snapped. Scotty frowned.
"No need to bring my birth name into this!"
"I can bring that back to the office, if you'd like."
"We managed to convince nearly every single agent that 'Scotty' is my real name. Let's stick with that."

I snorted. One wrong move and the birth certificate of Richard 'Scotty' Williams would circle the Senior Level office. The 'Dick' nickname would return within a week.

Even with that threat, he still replayed the video.

A thought struck me. "Hang on, I thought the cameras were—"
"I managed to get them back up just as he pinned you down on the pool table," he replied. "You can only imagine the shock of what I thought was going—"
"Alright! You don't have to elaborate," I exclaimed with a wince. That wasn't an image I was keen on having. He chuckled, knowing more than anyone how uncomfortable that subject was for me.

I leaned back in the co-pilot's chair, watching the clouds drift by as mountain peaks started sprouting into view. On our first few missions as partners, I despised flying. Having no control made me nauseous and we had more than a few arguments over who was in charge in the aircraft. However, after getting to know the quirky pilot, I learned to love it. In fact, I looked forward to the few moments of salvageable peace before missions.

Scotty, on the other hand, lived to soar through the skies. It took a lot of work for him to get to the position he was in, even if he did plan on a military career initially. Alistair had an eye for talent, many had said, and the Director hand-picked the pilot fresh from flight school around the same time I completed my own training.

When I really thought about it, most of the Senior-Level Office – Alistair's closest agents with the best jobs, the best pay and the best training – were all hand-picked by the Director. Some were given more straightforward promotions, but even Gabby, the Director's secretary, had been chosen by Alistair himself. Perhaps that was why the office was so cohesive; each of us served a purpose that promoted the ideals of the agency and, consequentially, Alistair.

"We're approaching the landing pad outside of the ski village. You'll have to drive from there," said Scotty.
"With what?" I asked, standing up with a stretch.
He shrugged, handing me the earpiece I was to use on the mission. "You're a spy."
"Well spotted," I replied, frowning as I put it in.
"And what do spies have?"
I tilted my head. "An annoying pilot that makes no sense." Scotty scowled. "Or is that just my divine luck?"
Scotty shook his head, scoffing in disapproval. "No. This."

He held up a remote and pressed the top button in a flamboyant gesture. In the cabin behind us, two of the metal boards that made up the floor separated as a platform beneath it raised. Upon it, Scotty had stashed a pristine, matte black sports motorcycle. My jaw dropped as I ran my hand over the secure rubber grip, eyeing up the off-road tyres that had modified the vehicle more suited to smoother terrain.

I turned my attention back to Scotty. "How did you do that?"
His grin turned proud and wide, his voice giddy. "I had the compartment installed a few months back for an extra bit of flair if I had something to show you."
I tutted. "Such a dramatic."

Scotty headed back to the dashboard while I prepared for the landing. I pulled on my gloves, zipped up my coat and wrapped the scarf around my neck, securing it as tightly as I could to keep warm without choking.

"Starting the descent. I'd get in your seat," Scotty said.

With a nod, I wandered back into the cockpit and slid into the chair as he switched off the autopilot, taking control to land.

Scotty shivered. "Bloody hell! It's colder than the highlands."
"At least you're in here," I replied.
"Have fun out there, by the way."

I sighed and crossed my arms as he giggled.

"Wait a minute... I see him!" Scotty exclaimed. I jumped to attention and leaned forward on the dashboard, eyes scanning the snow.
"Where?" I snapped.
"There!" His pointed finger guided me. There he was: standing on the porch of a log cabin a couple hundred yards to the west of us. If we continued our descent to the landing pad, we would lose crucial time.

He was not getting away again.

"Can you land in the snow?" I asked.
He almost choked. "Stacey in the snow? I can't do that but—"
"What?" I frowned. "Scotty what?"
"I could lower her enough to let you drop out the back. It's risky, but—"
"Do it."
"Amber—"
"Scotty, I said do it!"

With a confirming nod from Scotty, I headed back to the motorcycle as he began the countdown, timing the drop as we flew over the most efficient landing zone.

"Eight. Seven. Six. Five..."

I was ready. Secure on the bike, weapons fully loaded and stored, I watched his finger hover over the button.

"...Four. Three. Two. One."

He glanced back, narrowing his eyes in a wish of good luck.
"Make him beg."

Scotty's fist slammed down on the button and the doors opened. I revved the engine and took off from the aircraft.

The wind hit me in a wave of biting air, pulling me back by my hair and scarf. I took a deep breath, exhaling through my teeth as a slither of mist appeared in front of my eyes.

I dropped to a slippery landing, the wheels of the motorcycle flattening the two inches of snow into a wet, white road. A smile formed on my lips as I sped off down the hill, the rush of the vehicle pumping adrenaline through my veins as predominantly as blood.

Barnes was still frozen to his spot on the log patio. He had a phone pressed to his ear, letting out a long breath as the distance between us shrunk. His arm dropped down to his side, letting the phone slip from his fingers and bounce off the wooden floor as he paled to see me.

Even if he did freeze at the sight of me, he did not hesitate in taking a machine gun from the hands of one of his hired bodyguards as they left the cabin, pointing it at my head.

I took a sharp turn to the left as his arm jerked to take the shot, sending sparks of bullets in a violent storm. They bounced off the metal body of the bike, but panic did not set in until they ripped through the wheels.

The bike jutted a few times as I slid down the hill, then tipped over completely. I pushed myself away from the vehicle so not to be crushed, landing in the snow and rolling downhill until I reached the bottom. I jumped up, ignoring the burning of my left arm, as I pulled out the gun from my pocket and fired two deadly shots at the guards. One fell down with a headshot, but the other charged as the bullet hit the cabin.

His bull-like face twisted into a scowl as he snarled at me like a beast. After two more unsuccessful shots, leaving the gun in need of reloading, I braced for the impact of the huge body, crossing my arms over my chest and tucking my head inside.

The force that hit me was greater than expected. His muscular arms possessed the strength of an animal as they slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I kept my stance, however, my feet sliding backwards as the bodyguard pushed me. Once he had exhausted all of his energy from the run, I kicked him hard in the kneecap, hearing a bone-chilling crack as he cried out. I quickly reloaded the gun and fired a shot in his head, the sound echoing throughout the mountainous scenery and drowning out all other sound.

Barnes's features turned stone cold, eyes darkening as they lost hope. Even just seeing him in such a state made me glow with pride. I would have bet he regretted slamming a door in my face now.

Storming towards the cabin, I shoved the gun back into my pocket and replaced it with the taser, eager to witness his reaction. Disappointingly, he swaggered down the steps and dropped to his knees in the snow, raising his empty hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright, agent. You've won. I'll go willingly."

I pursed my lip and stared down in astonishment, stopping only half a metre in front of his kneeling figure. Why now? Why turn himself over so quickly when there was still a chance of escape, albeit a slim one? I wondered whether he cared for his bodyguards whatsoever if he neglected to avenge them in any sort of fashion.

His brown eyes stared back as a smirk grew on his cold, purple lips.
"Has anyone told you that you have really pretty eyes?"

Groaning, I jabbed the taser into the right side of his chest. A bolt of electricity fired through his body, making it jerk before he slumped to the side in an unconscious heap. I smirked; justice had been served.

I switched on my earpiece.

"Scotty," I said, glancing at Barnes's limp body, "come pick him up."

***

Darkness seized control of the skies early with the threat of a coming storm. I struggled to see through the rolling waves of grey, but was sure we had passed the mountains and now sailed over a few acres of trees as we overtook the first hour of the journey back to London.

I looked over my shoulder at Barnes, noting he was still unconscious. It was no light task in getting him in the aircraft – it took both Scotty and I to carry him inside, handcuff him to his seat and shoot him up with a sedative.

Still tense, I turned back around in my seat. My left bicep had grown numb from the ice pack Scotty insisted I pressed on the bruise gifted by Barnes's bodyguard. I winced as I changed its position.

"You alright?" Scotty asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," I said, gritting my teeth as the freezing ice pricked my sore skin.

"So he just surrendered?" Scotty raised an eyebrow and nodded to Barnes.
I narrowed my eyes at the rogue agent and shrugged. "It seems so."

With a sigh, I leaned against the window and shuddered, feeling an abrupt change in the atmosphere.

"Looks like it's going to rain soon," I said.
"It does, doesn't it?" Scotty craned forward, trying to get a better view of the overhead sky. "We're due a storm, but we may have to land for an hour or two if it gets too bad."
My eyes flickered in the direction of the unconscious Barnes. I wasn't sure we had enough sedative for two more hours. "And put up with himfor longer?"
"Believe me, I would love to toss him out onto the widespread fields of France but—" He sighed. "—Alistair's orders are law."
"Aren't they always?" groaned a voice from behind us.

I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. Barnes was awake.

"I'll get the sedative."
"That's it! Sedate me again because you simply cannot control yourself in my presence."

His obnoxious half smile made my glare grow sharper, which only made him laugh. He must have wanted that from me.

"The sound of your voice triggers her impulse to shoot you in the head," retorted Scotty. "Tread carefully."
"I don't think so." Barnes smirked.

I shook my head, disgusted, as I searched the first aid bag for the syringe. Even just looking at the pointed tip made me cringe, but I had no choice. It was either that or listen to Barnes talk for the rest of the journey.

Barnes lowered his brows, narrowing his eyes as his head tilted defiantly. "You two just follow Alistair's orders blindly, don't you?"

He was obviously getting bored and wanted a reaction from either of us. I clicked my tongue and ignored him.

"Hey!" he snapped, getting frustrated now. A faint hint of a smile tugged at my lips as I filled the syringe. "Hey," he repeated. "Agent Knight."

A shiver ran up my spine. Not once had I said my name around him. Scotty sensed my unease, as he spun around his chair to look at me with worry.

"How do you know my name?" I asked, threading a dead tone into my voice. Barnes's lip quirked and he leaned back into his seat.
"Research."
My jaw clenched and I raised my voice. "How do you know my name?"
"I wanted to know more about you. You caught my eye." He smiled as if it were a compliment I should have been grateful for.
"Not creepy or anything," muttered Scotty, holding an edge that I had not really heard before.

Barnes sighed and slouched even further into the cushioned seat.
"Oh, come on Agent Knight! Everyone in the agency knows who Alistair's pets are. It just took a while for me to piece it all together. Of course Alistair would send you."

He lifted his arms to fold them behind his head but was taken aback once he remembered being handcuffed. I shook my head, scoffing as my lips twitched in amusement of the shift in his dynamics.

"I don't know why you're acting so confident. You'll be dealing with Alistair soon."
"We're angelscompared to him," Scotty added.
"Ah! Alistair." Barnes shook his head, an evident dislike lingering on his face. He must have had no likeness towards the man for a long time if he would go so far as to betray him. "Why do you follow him?"
"He's our boss," I replied.
"You kind of have to do what your boss says if you want to get paid," Scotty finished.
"Is that why you work for him?" Barnes taunted. "To get paid?"
"It gives us good nights out in London, that's for sure," said Scotty. He bobbed his head as he hummed a tune.
"It's our job. Getting paid is only a small part of it," I clarified, straightening my posture.
"But what if Alistair did something you didn't agree with? What if he gave an order you felt was wrong? Would you follow it anyway?"

Not once in my whole career had I disobeyed a direct order from Alistair – or anyone who outranked me, for that matter. As an agent, you had to trust your superiors. That trust outweighed your own moral compass. If it disintegrated, the whole system would collapse. The agency was my life, and Alistair directed it.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, I was thrown forward by the sudden lurching of the helicopter. A loud siren from the control panel rang in my ears as I lifted my head.

I had landed directly on top of Barnes. If not for the red warning lights on the ceiling, he surely would have spotted my flushed cheeks and prodded me for another reaction.

"If you felt that way, you should have said something," he said, straining to talk with the weight of me on top of him.

I scoffed, hitting his solid chest as I clambered to my feet.

I rushed back in the cockpit, having to hold onto the wall as the aircraft violently tilted again.

"Scotty!"
"There's a hostile inbound. They're on our tail!" he cried.
My brows furrowed. "But why would they—" I stopped, fury tightening my chest.

I shot a glare at Barnes. "Did you call them?" I snapped.
"With what? You took my phone!"
"There's other ways, Barnes, you know that."
"Why would I want someone to bring a helicopter down with mein it?"

He did have a point. The man was crazy for betraying Alistair, but he wasn't suicidal. In fact, he seemed verykeen on keeping himself alive.

"Then why—?"
"It's probably your Director wanting to finish me off," he snarled.
"We may not be Alistair's favourite people at the moment, but I don't think he would blow us up!" exclaimed Scotty. I nodded in agreement.
"He wants you alive. Why kill you now?"
Barnes rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Whoever it is, I didn't call them."

Even though I would not have given the rogue agent a slither of trust, I believed him.

I searched for signs of the enemy aircraft out the window. There, through the running droplets of rain on the glass, I saw it. A large fighter jet flew by our side, its pilot flying with a mask to cover his or her face.

A clap of thunder erupted around us, the sound reverberating through the walls. Scotty swore.
"Oh, bloody hell, there's two!"

A second fighter jet approached from the right. The pilot stared through his mask then pulled back.

I frowned. "Scotty, where'd he—?"

The aircraft jerked and knocked me into the seat.
"Dammit, we're hit!" Scotty cried.

He held a firm grip on the steering, but the fear was obvious in his green-brown eyes.
"Ambi," he breathed, "if we don't make it out—"
"We're going to make it out," I said sternly.
"I'll hold you to that."

Another explosion threw me sideways as I tried to stand again. Scotty almost screamed.
"Stop blowing holes in my girl!"

A gust of wind ripped through the cabin and into the cockpit. I ran to the back, finding a gaping hole blown out the back of Stacey. Barnes looked surprisingly frightened. His countenance had fallen and he took deep, shaking breaths as the hole stretched towards him.

I sighed, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him into the cockpit. His eyes stretched.
"You're no use to us dead," I said bluntly. Barnes nodded, seemingly grateful.

Scotty was frantically trying to manoeuvre Stacey out of the fighter jet's line of fire. It did little to help. The breach in the cabin was too large to fly with. Everything he did to evade the hostiles was doing nothing more than delaying the time we would crash. It was painful watching him work so hard while I watched, helpless as I stood beside Barnes. But, as Scotty had told me once, 'we all have our jobs.' Flying was his and he was damn good at it.

"You've got to get him out."
My heart plummeted. "What?"
"Alistair wants him alive really badly, so he must be valuable to the agency, right? Like you said: he's no use to us dead. I most definitely can't drag his ass all the way back to London so you need to take him."
My voice turned hoarse. "Why can't all of us go?" I snapped. We had enough parachutes. We had prepared for something like this!
He bit his lip as though holding something back, a whimper crawling from his throat. "If we leave Stacey now and just let her crash, they'll know something's wrong and watch for us to land. Without protection, the jets can blow the three of us up in a second. But if someone could keep the girl flying for a little longer..."
"No, Scotty."

I let go of Barnes and crouched down beside Scotty's seat. He wanted to die for a distraction? No! It wasn't worth it. No mission was more important than Scotty's life. As a valuable agent, a magnificent pilot, and an irreplaceable best friend, the agency needed him. Ineeded him.

"Let me do it," I begged.
He shook his head. "I can't do that, Amber."
Tears threatened to burst from the corners of my eyes. I gripped his hand and squeezed tightly, my lip quivering shamefully. "Please, Scotty."
My best friend's attention fell from the control panel to me, his expression matching my own. He swallowed before forcing a smile.
"And you said that you do all the legwork!"

I forced a laugh to push away the stab of guilt. He knew I was joking, but it left a bad taste in my mouth now.

"We should leave now if we want to survive this," said Barnes. My eyes narrowed in fury – without him, Scotty wouldn't have been staying behind.
"He's right," said Scotty. "Buy an extra drink for me this weekend."
I gave a slight, nervous laugh. "I promise."

I clutched his hand once more then scrambled to the back of the cabin, grabbing two parachutes and tossing one to Barnes. He caught it awkwardly in his arms.
"I can't exactly open a parachute with—"

I unlocked his handcuffs and shoved them back into my coat pocket with one harsh movement.
"Try to run and I shoot you on sight. I don't care what Alistair says."

He clamped his mouth shut. With the thought of Scotty going down with Stacey, my voice had become so bitter that he believed me.Ibelieved me.

"We have to jump over the gap," I said, gesturing to the flame-rimmed hole. Barnes nodded and broke into a run, leaping over it with ease. I tightened the straps of my harness and sent one last glance over my shoulder to Scotty.

"Come on, baby. Hold it together just a little longer,"he soothed. How I had come to care for the odd Scottish pilot was beyond me, but I did. As I stepped towards the edge of the gap, I held onto the flicker of hope I had left. He wasn't dead yet. There was still hope.

Just not a lot.

I sighed, looking down at the trees below. It was time to go. I jumped from the edge, tucking in my legs as I leaped over the roaring flames. The soles of my boots grazed the tip then cooled as I fell through the air.

My limbs stretched out into the falling position. When I reached the correct height, I yanked on the lever with a force fuelled by fury and adrenaline, and the parachute burst from the pack to slow me down.

I braced for the rough landing. The trees were within touching distance; I had to curl my legs up to not get cut or trapped. There was a small clearing up ahead – that was my landing zone.

As I drifted closer to the ground, my clothes began to snag. Branches tore at the fabric, some breaking through to scrape the surface of my white skin. I shielded my face but that left me blind, choking on the dead foliage. A stake of wood stabbed through the front of my shoulder, and a cry escaped my throat when it snapped off the branch.

The strap of the parachute ripped, flinging me to the floor where the tree lining circled the clearing. As I fell, the stake's hold on my shoulder loosened and it dropped to the ground beside me. I landed on my front and grimaced as I rolled onto my back, cradling my arm. I took few deep breaths; in... and out. Just a few breaths. Slow the adrenaline. But, my god, the pain...

Grass prickled my back as I stared at the dark, storm-twisted sky with a hand pressed to my shoulder. The rain had paused, but a breeze stroked my face, cooling the burn at my side.

A roar in the air brought the pain back.

Stacey trailed flames through the darkness as the fighter jet fired one final shot into the back of her, sending her charging towards the ground in a spiralling vortex of smoke and fire. I shut my eyes, letting just one tear escape. It rolled all the way down my cheek and fell from my jaw, sinking into the grass. No matter how desperate I was to cling onto the slither of optimism that Scotty escaped – that he leapt from the aircraft in a final histrionic race for survival – the logical mind of an agent told me he was gone. I covered my eyes and winced, heat firing through the clearing to the sound of an explosion that ignited the trees surrounding it and rumbled through the ground, the stench of the smoke taking my breath away.

And as the rumbling died down, a match struck my soul.