(A/N) I can't take credit for a lot of the dialogue that isn't Jonathan's because it's not mine it's actually lines from the show. Because this is basically the learn about the bunkery place chapter (and maybe the few next ones we'll see) but inner monologues are mine tho! So. This part is so you guys know what's going on and are not completely lost and new characters are showing up so yay!

P.S {blah,blah,blah,} = Russian or other language that's not English (I'll specify)

P.S.S; That line separating the A/N from the story, yea. I also used the that to break up the story WITHOUT changing the POV (point of view) just a  little fyi so you know.

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The guy was just sipping his coffee for like 30 seconds before he spoke. Something tells him that it was on purpose.

"Evening Jonathan, it is Jonathan right? Never Jon?" He asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn't shut up. "So I'm sure you're asking the usual questions. Where am I? Who are y-

"Well I'm certainly not in Kansas anymore." Jonathan said sarcastically sitting Buda style on the bed as he looked around.
So, white walls, bright lights almost making up the roof.

"Obviously underground. There's the where. And you my good sir, are the guy who gives a big asshole speech and apparently doesn't make coffee for his guests so there's the who. And by the way rude. I should at least get a complimentary latte or something."

The Coffee-Hogger looked at him surprised, obviously not expecting his A+ levels of sass.

"Oh don't let me stop you from continuing with your little asshole speech. I'm sure its very good." Jonathan said this as if speaking to a particularly dense child.

Coffee-Hogger looked at him for a while not knowing what to do before he continued with what Jonathan assumed was his original asshole speech.

"Well, you're not in prison anymore.You're not even in Manhattan, although we're the only ones that know that. Your death was officially ruled a suicide by the prison coroner on November first. Your ashes are stored right here." He said holding up a picture Jonathan didn't bother looking at. He just stared at Coffee-Hogger trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible in revenge.

Coffee-Hogger coughed awkwardly

"My name's Michael. I work for the government. We've decided to give you a second chance."

"Uh-Huh, why?" he asked 'Michael' bluntly. Coffee-Hogger fits much better.

"Because you're a young attractive white male with virtually no personal ties or paper trail. Now, those do exist, but they're hard to come by. What really grabbed our attention, though, was how you not only managed to kill a criminal we were about to take out. But even before that, you managed to evade him until you were more than ready to take him out."

"Oh Michael! You're making me blush." He said scandalised. " Do continue."

Michael lips tugged up into a reluctant but also condescending smirk. That's a weird-ass combination.

"Your life is over. I'm here to offer you a new one. But you have to be willing to earn it."

"Ugh and here I thought the worst you were going to do was not give me coffee, now I have to put effort into something." He flopped backwards on the bed, legs still crossed. "Wait what am I supposed to be putting effort into?"

"Learning. How not to sound like a teenage delinquent for starters. Learn to stand up straight. Learn how to walk right. Learn how to talk right. Learn how to serve your country. Instead of just yourself."
Michael said this as he knocked on the door he was leaning against and some guy opened it.

But before Michael walked out Jonathan called out one last thing.

"Well sir, I do declare that I find that my speech is impeccable and that my annunciation is of the highest degree."
He spoke with an over-the-top southern accent.

Michael slammed the door. Seeing as he was being left to stew. Jonathan decided he could stew in his sleep.

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When he woke up there were dark grey sweat pants, white shirt and a matching dark grey jacket.

He put them on as his old close smelled funny. When he walked out Michael was waiting for him.

"Follow me." And with that totally not ominous order he walked away. Always one for not being bored Jonathan followed.

There were a bunch of doors and hallways they went through each one looking exactly the same. As we neared another door he heard muffled grunting and crying out.
Expecting a porno set, Jonathan was only slightly disappointed to see a little training area with people sparring on mats and others beating up dummies on the far sides of the room.
With guards in all black watching. And few trainers in black version of what he was wearing, holding stop watches and telling people what to do. But to mention the totally not creepy tinted windows that overlooked the training area.

Very military.

Michael just jerked his head at the training area as if telling him. 'Go on, they won't bite.' Liar. He walked down the steps and was completely lost as to what he would do. With a parting; "Welcome to the Division." Michael walked off through another door which looked like it led to the room which overlooked the training area.

'Wait Division? A black ops division of the government called Division. Wow that's creative.'

----- The Ops room, behind the tinted glass. Michaels POV.----

He left the new guy - that reminded him way too much of Birkhoff - before he 'cancelled' the recruit himself.

He didn't know why Percy wanted to go over the details for operation Black Arrow - These name's just become stupider and stupider - as they've gone over them at least three times already. Gesturing at the huge screen in the center of all the other slightly smaller screens on the wall in the ops room pointing out the target he began reciting the details burned into his memory.

"This, is surveillance of general Safwani entering the Wyckland hotel. Three bodyguards in his suite, one advance guard in the lobby. Lobby guard is our weak link. That's our way in. We have one shot at this.If he makes it to the U.N, we fail.

"What's the team look like?" Percy asked knowing full well what it was like. "It's a 4-man op.
One of my recruits, Thom, is ready for the field. I was planning on using hi-" Percy's phone rang and Michael immediately got curious.

"Percy. Really? When? No, I'll be right there." He turned to me. "I'm taking you off operation Black Arrow."

"What?" He's been planning this for weeks why would he get kicked off now when it can only hurt the operation.

"I'm giving you a new assignment." Michael eyes narrowed at that, there's only one other mission Percy would give him. "Nikita?"

"Nikita. She's back on the radar. Sprung one of our mouse traps. I want you to hunt her down, and I want you to confirm the kill. Do you think you can do that this time?" Percy asked skeptically.

"What do you think? He answered with confidence he wasn't sure he had.

---- Jonathan's POV 2 hours later ----

He was just walking down the steps to the mess hall of Division. When everyone except one brunette turned to look at him. Still lost on what to do and how to interact with the other recruits, he just looked around for the table with the least amount of people which conveniently was with the brunette girl, who was sitting all alone meaning she was also new, or extremely anti social both worked. So he sat down a respectable distance from her, and thankfully she wasn't inclined to talk.

But since his luck was positively impeccable. The brunette was of course a trouble magnet if the black girl somehow managing to hold a banana menacingly as she looked at them was any indication. He was content to deny her existence but the brunette had different ideas.

"What..? What are you looking at, bitch?" The girl smirked. 'And oh! Shit she's coming over shit-shit-shit.' She sat down across the brunette and stared at her then looked to him and back to the brunette, thinking her the easier target.

"You're going to die here, you know that?" The brunette obviously had a short temper as she grabbed her fork and pointed it threateningly at the now smiling Bitch-face-Mc.Bitchyton. Then a guy ran up and grabbed Bitchyton around the waist and pulled her back before she attacked or got attacked by the brunette.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He said angrily. "If you don't think they watch us in here, you're wrong!" Jonathan as helpful as he was grabbed his knife then stood and began lecturing the brunette on her threatening skills as he replaced the fork in her hand with his knife.

"If your going to threaten someone with an eating utensil, a knife works much better than a fork. I mean sure you could stab her with the fork but that'd just irritate someone. A knife is much better, cause there's stabbing and slicing." He said this very cheerfully but all three of them gave him weird looks. he shrugged at them. The guy that was still holding Bitchyton back turned back to the brunette now holding a knife.

"Hey. I'd put that down if I were you." He said sternly yet gently, like an order disguised as a suggestion. Bitchyton looked up at the guy holding her with a mock-dreamy look.

"I love it when you hold me like this." The guy just looked at her unimpressed.

"God. Chill. Just saying hi to the new girl." Then Jonathan gave her an unimpressed look, she shrugged innocently.

"This is Jaden. She doesn't think she's still new here, but she is.
What's your name?" He asked both of us. "What's yours?" Jonathan and the brunette said in unison. Jaden answered for him.

"This is Thom. He's a pro, 'cause he's about to go on his first mission."

"Shut up." Thom said irritated. "Look, we're recruits, just like you. I've been in almost a year, they brought Jaden in about 2 months ago. None of us are volunteers."

"Meaning, whatever they're got on you," Jaden interrupted. "whatever your big bad past is, it's nothing we haven't heard before." Jonathan doubted a lot of the recruits have killed seven, eight... Or was it ten, memory agh!

"Meaning we need to stick together if we're going to make it through training. Trust me. Now, you can start by telling us your names."

"Alex. Jonathan" One of the guards called. "Amanda's ready to see you both."

As they followed the guard, he turned to ask the brunette, who's name was apparently Alex, a question. "Who's Amanda?" She shrugged, yeah he expected as much. 'Yay more surprises!' he thought bitterly.

When the guard stopped outside a door that looked slightly more inviting than all the other ones he tried to walk through the guard put a hand on my chest stopping me from following Alex in to the room.

"Lady's first." Oh, how chivalrous. Jonathan slumped against the wall and stared unflinchingly at the guard.

The guards eyes were already shifting trying to look anywhere but at him. This'll be fun.

---- Alex's POV ----

Hesitating when she saw the guard stopped Jonathan from following. She walked in, the classical music was calming in a strange way, probably meant to be.

"Hello?" When no answered she took the chance to take in her surroundings. It looked like a therapist's office. Two lush sofas placed on either side of a long glass coffee table, a waist-high, small round metal stand had a vase of flowers placed on top. Like a desperate attempt at bringing some life into the room. And tucked into the corner of the room was a door and counter top with some fancy teapot and a bunch of herbs in unlabeled bottles. She walked through the door that opened into a completely different room from the one she was in. It looked more like a stylist's workshop than anything else.

She looked around ignoring the fancy chair and table with a mirror built in on her right. In favour of the dress to her left, it was a attractive shade of red with a slightly darker Crimson sash with a jeweled silver centrepiece.
She felt the fabric and knew immediately that every piece of jewelry on the dress was real.

"Well, don't just stand there, Alex, try it on. You'll find it fits perfectly." A melodic voice sounded from behind her. She turned to see a tall woman probably in her late thirties, early forties with dark brown hair in a silver power suit that looked just as expensive as the dress.

"I don't wear stuff like this." She said with a disgusted sneer as she let go of the dress.

"As a style choice, or because you're not used to it?"

"Because it's ugly." At least the past it reminded her of was.

"And you're beautiful.
Michael was right about that much."

"So what? You're the one that's supposed to teach me how to walk and talk, chew with my mouth closed?" Alex couldn't care less what Michael said.

"My name is Amanda, and I'm the one who's going to show you how to embrace your beauty and use it to your advantage.
Your journey begins right here in this chair." She said walking over and patting the back of said chair.

"I'm not smearing that crap on my face." She said angrily, she made to walk out but what Amanda said next made her hesitate.

"It's not like this will be the first time you've reinvented yourself, Alex."
Dread rose in her throat.

"I'm very impressed with your accent, or lack thereof. { what does the butterfly on the back of your neck mean, if not transformation? }" Amanda said in perfect Russian.

"How?" Alex said turning to face Amanda.

"Well, based on your age now, and taking into account the 5 years or so you'd have to work to lose your accent.
It wasn't hard to answer the question; what kind of 14 year old Ukrainian girl purchases a forged identity? Someone who was brought here against her will, on a boat, with many other girls just like her." She said clinically.

"Not like me. I escaped!"

"Your captors, yes, but not the junk they hooked you on. You're a survivor, Alex. You made it through hell, you'll make it through this. All I'm here to show you is you don't have to be hard to survive. Sometimes vulnerability can be our greatest weapon." With a threatening look from Amanda, Alex reluctantly sat in the chair.

---- Jonathan's POV ----

He looked away from the guard - who had moved ten steps from where he originally stood - when he saw Alex walk out of Amanda's office looking angry as all hell, who didn't wait for the guard who was about to say something - he was probably supposed to bring her where she was supposed to go - before he thought better of it and let her go.

He looked to the guard as he nodded to the door. The guard nodded his head so he walked in.

He saw a woman who he assumed was Amanda making some drink in the corner of the room. She turned and gave him an expectant look.

"Uh, hi." He said with an awkward wave. The room obviously had something to do with therapy, he never had a therapist. He was ashamed to admit he was uncharacteristically nervous. He didn't get nervous, it's just a thing he doesn't do. So he is, of course, a little put off by pretty much everything about this room and the woman it belonged to. And he didn't even say three words to her yet.  

"Jonathan, correct?" She didn't wait for an answer. " Please sit down the tea will  be done in a moment." Jonathan sat down and kept his eyes on the woman watching everything she does, there was a disconcerting amount of herbs up on the shelf above the steaming kettle.

Note-to-self: avoid tea at all costs. As if on cue the pot started whistling and Amanda picked it up and poured two cups and walked over with a tray and placed gingerly on the glass coffee table next too a little black book he only now noticed. He could really go for some coffee right about now.

"So," Amanda said taking a seat on the opposite side of the glass. "why don't you tell me about yourself." Well that's vague.

"Anything more specific?" Conversation really isn't his forte.

"What about your childhood?" She said picking up the book and the pen on top of it. Okay, childhood... He could, probably, get through that with minimal trauma... Maybe.

"Well  both my parents were in the navy, military family y'know? Mother was an engineer. Father was a seal, the best according to my mother but that might of just been her trying to keep me from worrying."  Amanda nodded writing furiously probably trying to decide if everything he just said was a lie. He always wanted to know what kind of mental problems he had and he didn't trust self-diagnosing.

He told her all about his childhood. How he had a relatively normal childhood discovered an interest in computers and technology in general from a young age, briefly telling her by the time he was twelve he was able to hack into his school's network and steal the answer's for every test his teacher's ever gave him using the test sheets as a way to make some money of his classmates.

Not without getting some form of blackmail on them first which he wrote about in excruciating detail on the back of the test sheets. Snitches get stitches and all that. Literally in the case of the ones who were such goody-two-shoes that there was nothing to get on them. And the fact he could still remember each Student. Every name, face and dirty little secret.

Then it got to the gritty stuff.

His father's death when he was fourteen, his mother's depression. His refusal to answer any question's the teacher's asked him, but he kept getting full marks on all tests so they left him alone. His mother's suicide on his fifteenth birthday.

His grandfather that became his guardian and liked to hunt and who taught him how to hunt with different weapons guns, crossbows, bow and arrow and whatever else struck his fancy. His grandfather's death at sixteen, his wonderfully abusive time in the foster system. His escape on the day after his seventeenth birthday and his deletion of any and all records of him that the government or his previous schools had. His spectacular career as a male prostitute which lasted till his most frequent client almost beat him to death, then he killed him. then he killed his pimp before he could come after him. and how he stole all his ex-client's money and every dollar his pimp had hidden around his house.

Moving into a big house with five other people when he was eighteen, how he kept his distance from all of him and they gave up on trying to talk to him after three months. How he lived peacefully until he got pissed at his shitty laptop for being so shitty.

"And I assume you know the rest."

"I do..." She said finishing whatever note she was taking down from that.

"So to put it simply the only reason Mathew Clarke died at your hands was because you got irritated at your laptop for being inefficient?  Which started all the events that led you to killing him."

"Well," Jonathan said embarrassed. "when you put like that..."

"You may go. We'll speak again soon."

Jonathan walked out the door to Amanda's office and closed it behind him he turned to the guard, who indicated he should follow him. So he did. The nervousness that clung to him immediately leaving.

He hated that room.

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The guard brought him to another training area. Just in time to see Jaden (A.K.A Mc. Bitcheyton) catch sight of Alex walking down the steps.

She whistled. "Ah, look. All cleaned up, y'know they say Amanda could cleanup a pig." Jaden taunted

"Then you should go see her sometime." Alex retorted before begrudgingly sitting next to Jaden, it being the only spot left. Jonathan decided to do the nice thing and create a physical barrier between them. He walked up behind the duo. "You mind if I scoot in here?" They both gave him grateful looks, well, Jaden didn't look completely irritated so he guessed. He took his spot and looked at the recruit who he realised was Thom spar with one of the trainer's. He lost and he looked severely pissed.

"He's intense." Alex commented, he nodded in agreement.

"He's about to go on his first op." Jaden spoke actually sounding kind of concerned, Jonathan was making assumptions. "He's just stressed. Heh.. Even though he won't admit it."

"You guys..?" Alex asked voicing Jonathan's thoughts.

"Division doesn't allow relationships." Jonathan just raised an eyebrow and gave an 'are you serious?'  look.

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Alex asked slyly. Jaden chuckled and turned to Thom as he walked towards them. "New girl's a spitfire, Thom."

"Maybe you can get him to give it up." She said looking at me an Alex. Before Jonathan's mind could go to extremely not PG places she spoke again.

"We want to know about operation Black Arrow." Oh his mission, yeah... Jonathan was thinking something with much more penetration.

Thom sighed like this is the hundredth time she asked. It probably was. "Look, I told you. That's classified?"

"God. You sound like one of them now. Come on." When Thom still refused she pressed again. "I know it's going down at the Wyckland hotel."

"Who told you that?" Thom asked in an angry whisper.

"This is a spy school, Thom." She said gesturing to Division. "I spied on you googling stuff at the computer lab. The Wyckland hotel, some west African V.I.P. General Safwani or Sa-weenie or something."

"Yeah, you really should have expected that." Jonathan said to Thom.

"Your not supposed to know that!"

"Please. Who am I going to tell? I'm just jealous you get to smoke someone." Alex whipped her head around at that statement.

"I mean, what are we here for, right? What? You disagree? Really?" Jaden laughed. "Ah, man."

She turned to me seeing I wasn't nearly as surprised at the information. "Is she playing with me?"

Thom tried to reassure Alex. "At least half of our missions are counter intel. Deep cover infiltration things like that.

"And the other half?" Alex asked hesitantly, Jonathan was actually starting to feel kinda bad now. Jaden interrupted before Thom could answer.

"You're here to kill for the man, honey. They're going to teach you to kill with a gun. They're going to teach you to kill with your nails, they're going to tell you who to kill and when to kill them.. And if you don't deliver, they're going to kill you." She said as the current sparring match ended.

"Jaden, you're up." A trainer called. She walked away with a smirk. She lost actual name privileges

Bitch-Face-McBitchyton strikes again.