Post by mauve morganstern • 3f [kiah] on Aug 5, 2020 1:17:34 GMT -5
* * *
"Cyrus she is too young! You- You cant send her out there on her own!"
"She is one of the best, she will be fine-"
"Cyrus you're not sending our daughter out into danger-"
"Kenna, darling, she is ready."
There is silence and I strain my ears, desperate to hear my mothers response.
"She is just a child."
"She is a solider. She is strong. She's not a little girl anymore."
A door slams.
"Kenna, Don't be like this!"
"You're going to do what you want anyways!"
The voices become muffles, and I lean against my bedroom door, my head pressed firmly against it.
"If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."
"She will be fine."
"I hope you're right."
* * *
"Lola, do you understand the details of the assignment?" My father sits across from me, his hands folded neatly on his desk. He had called me to his office first thing this morning, Mum nowhere to be seen. He had explained that I was to gather some intel on our employers competitor. You see we work as a security detail for one of the most notorious men in the district: Mr Ricco.
He was not born to wealth, but had earned it through the illegal smuggling of exotic creatures around Panem. His name is known across the district, but the peacekeepers have never been able to pin charges to him because he knows how to work the system. How to play with the grey areas. His business was messy, but he knew how to keep his hands clean.
My father had been a childhood friend of his. They had grown up in the harsher part of the district. They were like brothers. Mr Ricco had asked my father to be his partner at first, but my father had refused. He didn't have the mastermind to help run the illegal trade business, instead he had offered to be in charge of security. Before he had meet my mother, Kenna, he had been a street fighter. His knuckles were painted with scars, the pinky on his left hand permanently damaged.
He knew how to throw a mean punch. He knew how to acquire illegal firearms. He was the best shot, and from the moment I had been able to hold a pistol he had shown me how to use it. But never fire it. Not until he was certain I knew how to dismantle is and assemble it like it was second nature, as though it was as easy as breathing. Not until he was certain that I understood the power, the deadliness, of the weapon between my fingers.
But unlike my father my preferred weapon was the knife.
It was small, like me.
Sharp, like me.
Agile, like me.
It could be wielded quickly, hidden easily. And most of all it was unexpected.
This was to be my first solo assignment. It was dangerous, and my skin begins to crawl with unease. I liked to think that I was strong and confident. And I was. My father had raised me to be. But that didn't help the fear that began gnawing at me. I had been tossed into dangerous situations, situations that still made my skin crawl. I had witness interrogations, watched as my fathers men beat, and torments men and woman, prying answers from reluctant throats. I had performed interrogations, my knuckles beating into flesh as I demanded answers.
But I had never done it alone. Every time I had had back up, support, just incase a situation turned bad.
The thought of doing it alone was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying.
He warned me that the risks were high, and that he understood if I wanted to turn him down. My father was stern. Often he would come across as unapproachable, a lot of his team feared him. I too, sometimes found myself shying away from him, terrified that I would disappoint him and the ramifications that would follow. But I knew, deep down- deep, deep down- underneath his tough exterior there was a kind man. A kindness reserved for those that he loved and cherished. I had seen it in the way he spoke with my mum. The way he held her hand, and the way that she would often fin him gazing at her. I had seen it in the way he spoke with Mr Ricco. Their kinship breaking down both their exteriors revealing two men, bonding over stories of their past.
I had seen it in the way he treated me too. But when it came down to it, I was his soldier. One of his team and often he treated me as such. Sometimes I would find my eyes wandering to Thalia, Mr Ricco's daughter, and I would see the way he showered her with affection, how openly he loved her and I would find myself falling my hands tightly, nails biting into the callused flesh of my palm. I envied her and her relationship with her father. I craved it. But as soon as the thoughts enter my mind I banish them. I didn't have time to think like that. If I tried harder then maybe he might look at me like that. If I worked longer then maybe he would be proud.
Thats why, I nod, accepting the mission.
"Yes, sir. I understand."
I would prove to him that I was worthy of his pride. I would make him proud.
His lips pull back into a smile, nodding his dismissal.
I climb to my feet, heading for the door. I'm almost there when his deep voice sounds from behind me.
"And Lola," I pause, my fingers wrapping around the handle. "Don't disappoint me."