T h i r t y T w o

U n d e r  T h y  I n n o c e n t  F l o w e r

- Warning: mentions of blood and violence. -

A week into my mission resulted me driving through the city streets of Luhansk, keeping my maroon hoodie tightly as I kept it over my head.

I got out of the taxi, giving them the right amount no matter how he pushed me for. He wanted more than he used to. As my eyes glanced back at him from the rear mirror, I saw his reasons easily.

'A father of three, with a sick wife and needing to pay rent. Torn between the on-going war here,' I deduced by the photo hiding in the mirror compartment, and the overfilling pile of medical receipts and a rent letter as he shut it after putting the money in.

"Please." A voice pleaded.

Turning back, I kept stoic but considered to pass him another note. The ten Euros was enough to see the relief in his eyes, but once he saw my cold stare that gave away the 'this is the only time you'll get this' face, the taxi driver mumbled a thanks and drove off.

And then, I heard a groan.

Darker Me stood beside me, dressed in the same attire though carrying a black umbrella. She raised a brow at me. "Really?" Darker Me incredulously asked but then huffed, "So sentimental!"

"Fuck off." I muttered under my breath. I couldn't bare to listen to her right now.

Darker Me then replied, "Just because you stopped your drug dosing; it doesn't mean I'm really gone, darling."

Soon, with my counter self disintegrating in my head, I took the rest of the journey on foot.

____

I took shelter at a small motel, under a new alias as an orchestral player. Usually, I would change once I pass through country borders or a new mission (if it was a mission on my rate as of a boring one). The receptionist didn't bat an eyelid and handed me the key before I could pass out.

Domestic life really took a toll on changing my sleeping patterns. Even as I got up after several hours into the night, I grumbled up and began my trip on the outskirts of the city.

The so called bunker was hidden as an electrical generating station, surrounded by the coniferous forestry and a barbed fence. No one had been using the station since 2014, not since the Russians began invading east Ukraine. So as I crawled under an opening in the fence, I internally sighed.

Much as I wanted to have some adrenaline right now, I didn't want ten thousand volts turning me into charred meat. In five minutes, I was already inside the hidden USSR bunker: finding the entrance behind one of the control rooms.

As the lift took me down, I took a stance from the side of the doors. With a deep breath, I held the duel elites by my chest. My heart pumped harder as then the moving metal box slowed down to a creaking halt. Gradually, the doors opened.

Quickly, I tilted my head towards the opening. 

It was completely pitch black. The whole corridor was silent. Why was it quiet?

I took my precaution, rolling out an LED light into the room as I let the end of my gun point to the dark abyss. And each step I took, I huffed out a warm breath. It was getting cold, and entering the bunker at night was incredibly likely to have the cold get into my system.

However, my head told me to continue and I venture down the corridor. There were torn out doors, broken glass and boxes scattered. The paint on the concrete walls began to fade into grey from the blue tint. Once in a while, I saw the familiar hammer and sickle silhouette on the wall.

The emblem appeared more daunting with the small light emitting from my hand.

It felt like an hour until I searched every room and vent of the place. And in conclusion, there was no source of human contact. The frustration caught over me, but I took a breath and pulled down my guns.

They knew someone was going to come here. But there were new footprints, so they must have been here a week or two weeks before hand.

The final room I took was the one of the largest. It held several desks and machinery, and a large window on one end of the room. Walking closer to the window, I glanced through closely and saw something that made my heart stop.

It was an empty room, with four or so chairs on the opposite end so if you sat down, you would face the window. The walls were blank, with only a light bulb in the centre of ceiling. There was a table in the middle, with two chair facing one another. Each chair had clamps on the legs and, the bodice and the armrests. With that, I was more focused on the machine on the table.

"Number four two zero, please come to the table for test." A voice somewhere in the room echoed.

"Number four two zero operating." Another, more softer and feminine-like, spoke.

"Subject is ready." The previous one, it was a man, stated.

After a pause, the woman spoke. It was a kinder tone, almost persuasive."Okay darling...I know you can do this."

"Subject has thirty seconds to decode."

"And you know what happens if you don't." By that voice, it gave out a teasing tone. Though at the same time, it dripped in coldness. Hardly no emotion.

"Three...two...one."

A flash of white suddenly flooded into my sight. My lungs tightened, I sent myself gripping the sill of the window in sheer instinct. There was thump, and I felt my head hit the glass pane hard.

The first thing I did was gasp.

Never in my life...had I experienced a flashback such as that. It was as if my whole body was put into a bath of hot water and then plunged into ice. My fingers shivered in numbness and yet my head was boiling. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead.

The deep voice called through the speaker. "Subject results?"

"Thirteen seconds, doctor." Another voice, next to him, squeaked.

"Write it down."

"Sir...that's the quickest we've ever had."

"Give her the next level."

As I began to compose myself, I then noticed why the voices were beginning to take affect. It was the room. It was giving me a memory or trauma. Soon as I could got rid of the scene in my head, the quicker it would remove itself from my mind.

So, I stood up quickly as possible and turned myself around. This was not the time for memories, no matter how confused I was. The tables had a layer of papers and files scattered all over. One of them had seemed to have been touched, with the look of the fingerprints laying untouched by the dust.

The light felt just right, and when I saw the the information - I deduced the next place my uncle had gone to. It was a map of several bunkers all over the world. With red marks indicating their fall. One stood out. And it was one just on the outskirts of a Saudi Arabian village.

With a quick mutter of a plan, I decided to exit the place and return to the motel for a rest before I would leave for the morning.

And as I expected, my sleep was replaced by the haunts of screams, the sound of electricity and the shiver of thoughts whenever the beside light flickered. But nothing like that stopped me. It was when I remembered the girl with the red hair, gun pointing at me.

As the sound imploded, I woke up in a gasp of breath.

____

I stood outside the arrivals, shades perched upon my nose once I got out into the blasting heat of what was the Arabian summer climate. Many people were bustling out, trying to catch cars or taxi cabs as quickly as possible whilst I waited for my own ride.

It was only another fifteen minutes that a green Land Rover sided themselves by the curb and right in front of me. The dark tinted windows slid down on the driver's seat, and when I looked up, I saw the man grin back.

He spoke, "Are you Miss Leroy?"

"Yes," My French accent came out fluent, I pulled down my sunglasses for a bit, focusing the expression he wore. Same birthmark on his neck, the crooked nose and handle on the wheel. I asked, "You must be Monsieur Peterson."

He hopped off and gladly took my small cabin luggage into the back. Meanwhile, I took the passenger's seat and once he got back on, he we drove out of the airport.

As our surroundings turned into desert, I turned to him - only to find the muzzle aimed at my nose. His cheeky facade fading nothing but a stern look.

"What restaurant do I go to often?" 'Peterson' barked.

I answered back that it was San Carlo Chicchetti in Covent Garden back home, Giovani Marino lowered his gun and placed it back in his holster. I focused back into the road, a little bit irritated. "I'm not asking you a question." My accent returned back to my ordinary one.

Giovani chuckled and spoke back in his usual London accent. "Wasn't going to ask."

"How's Iraq?" When the moment was open, I allowed myself to change the subject. The atmosphere lightened, well...lightly to our standards.

He hadn't changed since I last saw him. A tan from the sun but that was it. He had a nasty cut on his wrist and a burn from backfire of a rifle and the explosion of a grenade. If Simon Lane thought grenades were bad...

When he responded with a simple 'alright' term, he asked vice versa and I replied, "Domestic life has been...different."

"Huh," He took a turn on a junction, passing the nearby city and into the desert. "I would have thought you'd be alright.

I looked at him awed, "You find it hard?"

He hummed, meant it as a yes. "That is the understatement of the year," Giovani grimed. "I may have been a spy for five years, but five years in the army. Deployed...you must be living the dream back home."

I stayed silent.

He eyed me, "Or not..." Closing my eyes, I still talked to my former work partner even though I was getting tired and wanted to sleep. We were heading to his temporary base where one other agent was waiting for us. But I didn't wanted to answer anything else in detail no matter how he pried. I was not in the mood, and definitely after what happened in Ukraine and before that.

"You have a right when it comes to being my friend." 

By the moment I felt the car engine stop, I snapped my eyes and rubbed them with a yawn. The place was a moderate house in a village, miles out from the nearest city. The place was camouflaged by the pale sand and stone, roofed with the same colour and adorned by two palm trees.

We got inside, making sure we kept our character from what we established before we could enter the house. Soon as we got in, a young man greeted us. That was when we began our plan for our infiltration.

____

"Can I ask you something?" I gradually spoke whilst we worked in the living room, a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of wire in the other.

As he adjusted his goggles, Giovani replied: "Sure, [Y/N]. What about?"

'Does it hurt to leave your girlfriend?' That question hovered in my mind and I almost paused what I was doing. What was I thinking? We were working, and this was towards our national secrecy.

Instead, I said something else.

"Has it ever occurred to you..." I began. "That it's possible to remember moments when you were a child?"

He glanced up at me, an amused expression on his face that was shadowed by the light. "Why?" He asked - as I expected.

Finishing off the solder, I said, "Just answer, please."

Usually I would know Giovani would then shrug it off and ignore my question. But after a silent, he would answer truthfully back. And I hadn't realised before how similar the military man was to my curly haired best friend. Despite appearance differences, both seemed to have the same appeal to persona.

He opened his mouth to answer. But then hummed. "I know there's such thing as childhood amnesia, and you can't really remember anything before the age of five or four. And, I think that's right." Giovani explained. "The earliest memory was when my aunt June took me to Milan for a week without my dad's consent... and that was pretty fucking memorable. And Dad was still with my mum then. Why do you ask?"

The memories of the the doctor, the woman and the girl next to the table and the machine raveled in my mind. Immediately, I pulled them away before a headache could occur. The children couldn't have been older than four. Then why can I remember someone's memories when it wasn't mine?

Instead I shook my head and placed down the new chip I made, "Been thinking a lot about my childhood recently."

'What you meant was that someone threw it at you and told you that you lost it for fifteen fucking years,' I grumbled in my head. 'Not to mention, that person is someone you shouldn't be thinking about right now.'

Mentally, I wanted to thank Giovani for butting in before Darker Me would probably take the bait and go and probably make a mess in my mind. I placed the chip onto the remote bomb and raised my brows. The new agent's instructions on making these were ingenious.

"Hey, [Y/N]."

I turned back to my partner and looked.

He told me that it was already midnight, and we needed to sleep to get prepared. I was assigned a room where I could sleep, so I thanked him quickly and got into bed. The nightmares changing like a tide. The first waved would be the memory of the girl forced to decode something. Then, it had been the red-haired girl shooting something.

Somehow things changed and intertwined. And the last scene had been a dead dog on the floor of the Ukrainian bunker, my gun pointed at the young red-haired girl. What scared me the most was that red-haired girl pointed a gun as well...towards Lewis.

____

Two days in, we were prepared to get into the base. It was situated underground near an oil field. And this one I knew was operating. The only issue was trying to get through the security codes.

The first thing Giovani took hold was my own arm. He glared down at me and told me that I wasn't going to go in without any order from him. All I did was blink back and rolled my eyes. I was not going to be reckless and go guns blazing. They had sniper's located at every perimeter and a security barrier.

The younger agent, who was of Egyptian descend, had me impressed by his technology use. He got several cases of special equipment that were fairly new to me, rather a lighter set of stun guns and new tasers and bombs.

And speaking of weapons, Giovani and the young man dubbed 'Q' had already had most of the plan mapped out, considering how much the recent oil centre hadn't been shipping the produce over to the government. And that a certain journalist had decided to investigate.

Giovani had the car park over a dune whilst I took advantage of another Land Rover coming in. I took over and replaced the agent inside with myself and applying the explosives in the back. It was not easy as it looked to fool them as I got inside.

The next thing was finding Will. Though next thing I knew, it felt too simple to walked through the halls of the Raven's base.

"[Y/I]! It's a trap."

I muttered, "No shit, Sherlock." Just as I turned round the corner, two large figures lay in front of my path. My legs quickly tried to sweep them off, throwing a smoke bomb in the process.

But my predictions were slightly off. They easily outmatched me, and I grunted as one of their fist hit the back of my head. And my sight faded into blackness.

____

The initial thing I did was kept my breathing to a minimal. 

My senses returned, and I felt my body ache from the restraints of rope and the hard wooden chair. With the curls of my fingers, I began to focus more the noises surrounding me.

"Good evening, Miss. [Y/S/N]." The room hadn't seem so dark anymore, when a blinding light was shone right to my face. The smooth accented voice spoke, "Or should I call you double oh nine."

Though I kept my eyelids placed. "You may chose whatever title you deem fit for me, Matthews."

Once I opened my eyes, there I saw the only person that I expected to find. There she was, staring down at me, a blank expression wiped over her that even I chose to deduce her: even the movement of her lips forced me to think outside the box.

"I'm glad you have kept your manners, though." With curled lip, the red-haired woman responded.

Matthews circled around me, and I carefully analyse the room. It was a large warehouse. The ceiling stretched for at around three stories that it could have fitted a fighter jet inside. It was much like a giant metal cage, with metallic walls, railings, and about three different exits. When I glanced upwards, I noticed there was an opening.

I leaned against the back of the chair, tapping my fingers in the air. "What manners, Matthews?" A brow from my head rose. "If you'd like to talk about manners, then the first thing you'd let your men do is probably not knock me out."

She ignored my voice.

"Please can you not aggravate her, [Y/N]." A quiet and familiar voice spoke.

Far from my own place: was Will. He sat on a familiar chair, tied in knots on his hands and ankles. His face was bruised up. There was dry blood on his jawline and his shirt.

Suddenly, I took the chance and escaped. I stood myself up, headbutting the guard who dared got to close to me. I lurched myself to side, using the corner of the table to elbow him in the stomach. Another took the same idea, but I quickly threw myself over him. The chair broke in a large smash and I groaned.

Closer as I got to Matthews, I then felt several hands grab me.

They roughly pulled me back. Matthews only looked over, but when I glanced back round again - I widened my eyes.

The bitch took her hand gun out, and pointed it straight at Will.

"I suggest you listen to your uncle, [Y/N]. We don't want another repeat from last time." Matthews spoke, reminding me of what happened during the Charity ball.

Though, I knew she did not meant that moment. I replied in a monotone "What last time. You shot my father, shot me. I don't think we want another repeat if you really need him."

Matthews raised a brow. "Him? Oh, we don't need your uncle. Actually, he was rather put into good use."

As she pointed at him, Matthews sauntered over to a table. For a second it looked to be a machine. But due to the cover over it - I was rather skeptical and almost felt irritated by her slow movements. She was doing this on purpose. She may be a raven, but she was a tiger.

When she pulled the covers, I hid my gasp.

It was the exact machine that I saw in Ukraine. And it wasn't hard what she wanted me to do.

"[Y/N] no." I heard my uncle breath.

Matthews ignored my uncle's voice and ordered,"Please walk over to the table and describe what it is or 005 will be compromised."

As I glanced back at Will, I saw the disapproval in his scowl. He wasn't angry at me. He was at Matthews. I was given no choice. But even deep down: I knew that my uncle would be angry. I was going to do something which I can't even remember if I did it.

"Control what?" As I got to the table and analysed the machine, I glanced over at Matthews.

All she replied was: "Ten seconds."

The twenty seconds between Matthews and me beginning the machine were intense and silent. I mentally took a deep breath and composed myself. In my mind: I knew what this was. I just needed to go back into my mind palace and try and find it.

"If I do this, you'll let him go." I asked softly, hiding the tired tone.

"Five." She responded.

I had no choice but to begin.

____

"Subject four two zero, ready."

"Oh. Anik Ivanov's spawn?"

"The bastard betrayed us. We needed a replacement for the job."

"...Then let us begin." 

"Algorithm has been uploaded." My fingers were shaking, and it felt as if the whole place was spinning.

I stared once more at the box, petrified that if I moved: that it jump at me and morph into a terrible creature. Matthews heels clicked onto the cement before I found those blue eyes glinting with pleasure and coldness.

'What have I done?' It was all I could whisper in my mind. I had just given the world's security to an assassin. Because I couldn't control myself.

She held the usb stick up, eyeing it with greed as she smiled. Her honeyed voice echoed into my ears. "Spasibo Nadia Ivanova, I always admired you. Youngest to break the Soviet Code."

"You were the girl. The last Raven to exist." I told her, unfazed by her grin. My fingers curled into fists.

I took once breath, albeit my anger at her - I couldn't help anymore. I felt so naked, it felt as if she had ripped open my mind and exposed everything I wanted. 

But Matthews seemed to think about something else. She smirked and answered. "Oh I wouldn't be the last one."

It felt like it was happening in large flashes. Suddenly out of nowhere, a gun shot pelted into the room. A figure in black sped and hurled straight into the men by the panels. At that moment, I took my chance and kicked the table - hurtling straight into Matthews. A grunt came off her as she fell to the floor.

My eyes wandered to the usb. It was flying straight at me. So with my free hand, I grabbed it and shoved it right in my pocket. Okay. At least that was done.

However, the black-clad man didn't stop. He began shooting the other men, taking them down whilst I continued to get towards Will. I jumped straight at a man's back, spinning before taking my whole weight down with him. I plucked the gun from his pockets and slammed it right on the back of his head.

Will had taken care of himself, who headbutted the nearest guard and began hopping about - still tied in the chair. I took a knife from one of the passed out guards and ran up to him. My uncle stayed put, looking from my back as I cut his restraints. After he winced from probably a lot of burn, he stood up and gave me a nod.

Now it was the three of us.

I took the gun and ran for the nearest table. Guns kept blazing and I ducked under cover. There were three more snipers above us. So I took the gun and took them down. It was a surprise that I managed to get two. But when the third one came, I hissed and tripped. 

It felt like my legs were burning when something hit my shin. I grunted in the process, as I grabbed for the nearest pole and whacked it at the guard that was about to stab me. The other figure had already taken down three quarters of Matthew's group.

I quickly looked down, and sighed in relief. The bullet only grazed my skin but it hurt like hell. After another shot, I looked over towards Will, who had shot the last sniper during the process. He nodded once we gained eye contact and I was about to run over to him until I felt something punch right to my back.

Lurching forward, Matthew's kick sent me flying and I landed right on the cement. Her hair was in a ray of mess, but as I expected: she didn't hesitate to pause. My only instinct was roll to the side and scissor her feet, using my hand to propel myself up. I kicked her from the gut, earning another grunt.

But just as Matthews was about to pull out the gun, the figure slammed himself right into her.

Will and I looked in shock, as the mask now unveiled as Matthews struggled against the tall figure. They seemed to have a masculine built.

But when their face turned to me...

...my mind stopped...

Right there, the person who wore the same Raven uniform: was my best friend.

I was staring at George Kingston.

____

George Kingston glared down at Matthews, gritting his teeth whilst a dozen of emotions flooded Matthews. I was too shocked to understand what they were talking about.

"I knew you were going to betray me." She smirked.

"Izvinite, sestra." George wrestled her until his arm locked. I thought it was going to be over.

All of sudden, she elbowed him from behind and broke free. I ran forwards, and I didn't know why. Something inside me...it felt familiar. The emotions, the pain. 

And then I stabbed her straight in to arm.

Matthews gasped, glaring immediately before rolling over on top and trying to push her arm to my neck. I took this time to roll her back, shrieking in pain until once I got her, my arm at her neck and now a gun at her head. My breath began to hitch.

"You must be shocked, [Y/N]. The only person who you thought understood you...was in fact the person who would take you to your grave!" She hissed in pain but continued to smirk. Blood began to seep through her clothes.

"No one ever did, Matthews." I held the gun, pressing it against her temple.

Form the distance, I spotted Darker Me: her signature grin not horrifying me once more.

And Matthews finally whispered. Only I could have heard. "Someone did. I watched, I analysed and knew every part of what you tried to build, [Y/F/N]. And all of that: I saw someone with potential."

A blank look cross my mind, and I stared at the woman who had cursed my own sake and family life.

"Goodbye Matthews." My voice was cold.

Then I pulled the trigger.

____

A/N: When I said that there would be no more long chapters...welp I kind needed to bend that promise. But the amount of detail here was so important, I had to put them in. There is so much filled in here that have tied the knot between the character's plot and her agent career. 

And what the heck just happened? George?! As one of the ravens...oh that's going to be drive down drama lane. More will be coming! And it's not gonna stop. And her used to being one? *Insert thinking suspicious face here*

Hope you guys have an amazing day/evening and thank you for reading. :)

-SierraOwls