The Contract - Prologue

The agent was worried.

The KGB agent was lying next to her - she had taken him by surprise. He was meant to shadow the snipers, to ensure no one else was watching their operation. She just hoped no one was watching the watcher.

From the top of a building two blocks away she scoped into the target, a warehouse in eastern Ukraine. Three squads of soldiers moved into the buildings, covering the exits. Whatever was in this warehouse must have been a high priority. Unfortunately, her intel only told her they were moving in on a weapon.

She shivered. It was cold, but not that cold under her coat. She hated going in blind.

The agents lined up near the exits, waving signals back and forth. Finally, they entered, smashing down the doors. And then, silence.

She waited for the gunshots, but never heard them. Instead, 30 seconds after the agents entered, she heard a song begin to play.

Was that... Videotape by Radiohead?

She furrowed her brow. Was the weapon...one of the Gifted?

When I'm at the pearly gates

Suddenly the winter night shone as giant gates appeared at the front of the building, and a blindingly bright fence encircled the rest. What the fuck, she thought.

This will be on my videotape, my videotape

The agent's phone crackled, and she pulled it out of her coat pocket. The screen showed the front muzzle of a gun, with a light from just above the line of sight. The agent quickly realized she was seeing the camera of one of the Russian agents.

Mephistopheles is just beneath

And he's reaching up to grab me

She watched in horror as the shadows of the agents began to come alive.

This is one for the good days

And I have it all here

In red, blue, green

Red, blue, green

The shadows turned on their masters, and the gunshots began. Somehow the agent knew they would do them no good.

You are my center

When I spin away

Out of control on videotape

On videotape

On videotape

On videotape

On videotape

On videotape

With one hand holding the phone and the other hiding her mouth, she watched as the shadows pulled the men apart with their bare hands, piece by piece.

This is my way of saying goodbye

Because I can't do it face to face

A chorus of screams startled her, tearing her away from the terrors on her screen. The screams came from outside the building and sounded as if they were all around her. The snipers, she realized.

I'm talking to you after it's too late

No matter what happens now

You shouldn't be afraid

Because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen

By the time the lyrics ended the screams had stopped. The song continued, the funeral march that made up the second half of the song was terrifyingly ominous, and the agent dropped the phone, clutching her sides in an attempt to comfort herself.

The song stopped. The gates fell away as if they had never existed, and the agent was enveloped in silence. The agent began to stand up but stopped dead in her tracks. Every hair on her body stood on end, and she felt something she hadn't felt in decades. True, all-encompassing fear. She slowly turned around.

Two shadows stood behind her. The agents' mouth gaped open in shock as her eyes took in the figures. The shadows surrounding the figures fell away, and the agent came face-to-face with a boy and a girl, holding hands.

Her training took over, and she began to analyze the threats. The boy looked a few years older, probably around 10 years old, and the girl couldn't have been older than 6. Both had heavy circles under their eyes and looked malnourished. The girl wore a coat that was so big on her that it looked like a trench coat, and the boy wore a hoodie and tattered jeans. The boy looked to be of Mediterranean descent, while the girl was strikingly eastern European. They were the weapons? She thought. Impossible, she chastised herself. Gifted awaken their powers during puberty, or...oh no.

The little girl cocked her head, eyes locked on the gun in the agent's pocket that she wasn't reaching for. "You don't want to kill us?" she said in Russian.

The agent paused, considering her words carefully. "Why would I?" she responded in Russian.

"Most adults do," the boy said matter-of-factly. He raised his hand, and his shadow extended, the claw reaching out towards her. The drumbeat of the song pounded in the back of the agent's mind. She shied away, but knew she was in no position to fight them. If they could kill three dozen agents in a couple minutes, she wouldn't last 10 seconds.

However, as the shadow's claw loomed closer, her eyes were able to bring it into better focus. A hand, she thought, right before it touched its index finger to her forehead.

The agent was pulled out of reality, her mind leaving her body. She floated above, watching her memories fly by, as if on a movie screen played at 5 times speed. The girl began to hum a tune, but the agent couldn't focus long enough to make it out.

A Contract.

Images flew by as the agent's mind struggled to keep up, overwhelmed with the sheer volume of information. Questions, answers, images, emotions, hopes, they flowed through her like a river. What are they showing me?

As if in response, the girl's voice echoed through her mind.

A Contract. Do you accept?

The agent struggled to reply. "What...contract?" she asked through gritted teeth as the river continued to flow through her.

A house. A school. Bikes. Clothes. Toys. Something else.

"Show me," The agent said.

There was a long silence. This time, she was only shown images, a silent movie, audience of one that couldn't look away.

The agent didn't know how much time had passed, only that when it was over, she was back in her body, on her knees at eye-level with the children. She touched her glove-covered fingers to her cheek and found them to be wet. She had been crying.

The boy spoke earnestly. "The Contract. Do you accept?"

The agent breathed in, steading herself, and wiped her eyes. "There are conditions I cannot control."

"We know," he said. "We accept your conditions. Do you accept the Contract?"

The agent steeled herself. "I do."

The agent felt herself collapse, and right before her world went dark and she passed out, she realized what the tune was. The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sarah sighed in relief as she melted into her chair in one of the CIA's jets. Thank God for taxpayer funding she thought to herself. It had been a rough 48 hours as she arranged for her and the children to be extracted from Ukraine. She glanced behind her, confirming that those two were passed out together, still holding hands. At least they'll finally get to rest for a little while before we get to Langley.

She pulled up her laptop and braced herself to write her report - she hated these things. Thankfully she was free to write as the plane was on autopilot, and they had a long flight ahead of them. A chime was heard from her laptop. Sarah sighed, readied herself, and accepted the call. An image of a graying, slightly overweight, middle-aged African-American man appeared on the screen.

"Agent Farley, you have 30 seconds to explain why you've ordered an extraction with only 14 hours' notice, knocked out our pilot, who is a decorated agent I might add, and left him in a locker, which will require another extraction. You disabled the cameras in and around the plane and ended a 7-month long deep-cover mission without contacting your handler. The Director is on my fucking ass for this Farley, so don't bullshit me or so help me I'll strap you to a desk myself and you won't see the field as long as I'm still breathing." By the time he had ended his rant he was so angry she could have mistaken him for a tomato if she didn't know better.

"Agent Meyers-" she began.

"That's SIR to you, agent. Your 30 seconds starts right now."

"Sir, I have the weapon."

There was a short pause.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself, Agent? Why did you subdue our pilot?"

"I've had the KGB and at least two other agencies on my ass for the last two days, sir. I was forced to take every precaution."

"And the cameras?" He asked.

"No connection is 100% secure, sir. Again, every precaution," she reiterated.

"And the weapon? It better be worth risking your career for."

"The weapon took out over three dozen well-trained soldiers in under 3 minutes," she stated, careful not to show an inkling of the terror she felt during the event. "No survivors"

Agent Meyers gave her a look that can only be described as intense skepticism. "And you secured the weapon? You're one of our top agents, but not even you are that good. How did you succeed where they failed?"

"I didn't. I agreed to the Contract, and they came willingly," Sarah responded.

"They?"

Agent Farley glanced behind her at the sleeping children, smiled, and looked back at her commanding officer.

"Operation Prometheus has two new subjects."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I know this submission is short - it's meant as a short prologue to whet the appetite. The writing bug caught me again and I felt compelled to start this story. I recommend listening to the song if you don't know it, as the music is part of the tone I'm trying to create. Expect more music in the coming chapters.

Please comment below if you want to see more and/or have any constructive criticism.