Braya spent the rest of the evening after her confrontation with Sebastian packing up her bag and vacating her hotel room. Moving did not guarantee her safety or anonymity, but tomorrow she would stoop to Sebastian’s level and ask him for a secure place to live. Working as the bodyguard for the richest man in the city had to have SOME perks. As for now… she hoped her fancy gold credit card still worked.
Braya was irritated with Sebastian. How dare he ask her out on a date? Braya didn’t take this job to be harassed. Unfortunately, until she received her first paycheck, she was no different than the citizens camped on the side of the road, their skin baking in the sun.
At her new location, closer to Heathrow Heights, Braya ripped off her wig and started her nightly tabatas. Her gunshot wound stung badly, but push-ups and burpees were the only way to clear her mind. As sweat dripped down Braya’s nose, she realized that NO ONE was on her side. She’d started this mission with a sense of purpose, and now that purpose had been ripped away. She always believed that hard work would pay off and justice would come for those who deserved it, but she felt like she was at the bottom of a cave and she couldn’t climb her way out, and Sebastian was looking down from the top of the mountain, laughing at her misfortune.
This wasn’t unusual for Braya. In the Citadel, the only person or thing she could depend on was herself. As people around her moved up in ranks, they became cruel, commanding, and less than human. Sometimes, her peers would be invited to the Hub, and never return. She didn’t know if they became members of the executive council, or if they were victims of scientific experiments, like Sebastian claimed.
Could she trust Sebastian to tell the truth? Braya couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but she DID trust him. Triumphia had captured Sebastian to discover how he erased memories. In the process, they ruined Braya’s mission, and left her to her own devices. They didn’t have control over her yet.
Despite this, she felt a loyalty to her home that she couldn’t shake. If Sebastian succeeded in destroying Triumphia’s leadership, what would come next? She imagined Sebastian, the all-powerful ruler of Triumphia, standing on his throne and demanding his subjects build him a big yacht. Braya couldn’t imagine her pristine, glittering home reduced to an industrial wasteland like Corver City. Triumphia inundated with celebrities and rats. No room to breathe on the expansive lawns. Triumphia was a familiar evil, and perhaps even a lesser one.
She was shaken out of her reverie by the soft chime of the tabatas timer, and a drawn-out buzz she hadn’t heard in days. A holochat.
Breathing hard, Braya let the holochat ring out. It was probably her superior calling about disciplinary measures, and he could stand to wait a few more minutes. The buzzing stopped. Seconds passed before it buzzed again. Braya let it ring until she couldn’t stand the rattling any longer, and she pressed the open call button with trepidation.
Immediately, a live video of her superior projected on the wall. It was Commander Tweed in his office, looking just as gruff as when he had sent Braya on her original mission. He had grown out his beard, against protocol, but his gray eyes were as piercing as a knife.
“Agent X,” he said curtly.
“Commander Tweed,” she said, wiping sweat off her brow.
“Agent, I notice you have changed locations without my consent.”
“Yes sir,” she said. “Due to lack of guidance, I made an executive decision.”
“I give guidance to those who request it. Frankly, Agent X, you aren’t an executive. Your actions warrant an arrest.”
Braya closed her eyes. Commander Tweed had given her accolades last year after a particularly challenging tribute match. She wasn’t surprised by the mention of an arrest, and she didn’t feel any fear. But she did care about her image and reputation as a top-ranked Malum soldier. It was flawless until Tweed sent other officers in her place, and it was his fault that she was in this position.
“Sir, I’m not sure what you want me to do. Beg for forgiveness? Be a sitting duck?”
Tweed chuckled. “I’ve sent three agents to meet you in the lobby. They’ll arrive shortly.”
Braya thought about her conversation with Sebastian. She regretted forgetting to ask him for protection. She knew she could run, but Triumphia knew too much about her. Everything she owned came from the regime. Her talents. Her technology. Her money and disguises. They would always track her down eventually, but there was nothing stopping her from giving the officers a hard time.
“Why are you warning me?” asked Agent X.
“Because if you’re going to run, do it for the right reasons,” Tweed said, before disappearing against the wall like smoke.