All Chapters of His Undercover Mission: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I took a deep breath. This is not enough.I have to train more. I’m too consumed by the idea of revenge that nothing matters to me anymore. "You're still weak, Hira." Alessi Sicillian, the famous mafia leader, my target spoke. Weak? Am I? Bang. There goes the sound of the gun in my hand. I shouldn't hear anything afterward because of the deafening impact like before. My heart should be shaking in fear because of letting this gun in my hand decide what to do with the life of the man before me.But everything didn't happen. I feel nothing. And so numb. But...it's so comfortable. So comfortable clutching the gun and feeling the smooth yet hard metal beneath my palms. Tickling my nose, there's a sweet smell lingering in the air...Rust. A sweet smell of rust coming from either the dangerous weapon in my hand or from the blood gushing like a waterfall in my left arm. And my heart...my heart f

It all started with a girl named Hira Callan, entering my life. Let me take you back a few years ago... THE NIGHT SKY, VOID of any stars, embracing a deep blue hue, the moon illuminating within the room. The glow of the television provides the primary source of light, brightening the surrounding with pale blue light. Series of snippets, various interviews, and a headline at the bottom reading, 'School Shooting, this month for the state of New York," urging a sense of panic to surge through my mind. Eyebrows furrowing, a feeling of despair settling in the pit of my stomach as the segment continues to provide more details. A shrill noise sounds, effectively blocking out the low murmurs of the television. The ringing of the burner phone catches my attention as I jump into action, halting the ringing and raising the device to listen. "Agent Wave," the mo

“Stop moving, sweetheart.” I flinched as Wave put something on my scar on my left hand. We are on the infirmary and he helped to treat my wound. He was cleaning and putting a bandage on it. Awkward tension filling the air. “Thank you, partner-in-crime.” I tried to joke.  I thought of another thing to say….I should bring it out since I’m sober that time…“Did you remember last night?” He shushed me. “Don’t.” I raised my eyebrows at him, “So you remember...we should talk about it.” ”That was a mistake. I was drunk. Forget about it Hira. ” He stopped. “Don’t forget, I’m maybe your partner but I am also your superior. We should handle everything professionally.” I stared at him for a minute, carefully analyzing his eyes and his body language. “Of course,” I replied. He’s not fidgeting, shifting his eyes or anything, instead, he was looking at me directly. I’m still nothing compared to him, he’s a top agent after all. And that’s what irritates

“Are you in danger? I'm gonna come-”   “No, I can handle this.” I cut off Wave. I could him feint panic laced in his voice but I remained calm.  The man walked closer to me and I pointed my gun at him. “One more step and I’ll shoot.”   The man raised his hands in the air, showing me his ID. “Relax, I am Agent Smith from the CIA, sent by the government.”   I glanced at his ID and saw it was legit. “Don’t move, explain more.”   “It seems the government wants to test your loyalty. I just came to inform you that.” With that, he left.   Was that a threat from the government? I gotta tell Wave and Mr. Martins about it.   ***********   Despite the CIA’s threats last night, I came early to the club and wore my uniform. We contacted Mr. Martins about it and he told us to just finish our job first. Wave was not seeing to it and demande

you may ask how I became an agent? Let me tell you everything in detail. I was taken aback by my memories years ago, memories that I had been trying to forget and bury. But these memories were too long but it felt like yesterday.  "Bye, Dad," I yelled while descending the stairs. As soon as I reached the last stair, I was met with my dad's gaze. I went to kiss him on the cheek. "Okay then, wait for your driver he's going to drive you to scho--" before my father could finish his sentence, I cut it off. "--I'm fine, Dad. I can just walk and-" I said but it was my turn to be cut off by my father's powerful voice. "---Hira, my daughter." He looked at me pointedly. If someone is talking with my father, I’m certain that they will melt from the fear of his powerful voice. But I’m different. Living with him ever since I was born, I was used to his authoritative attitude. "I said you're going to wait for the driver." "But...I'm gonna be late-" I s