Briony

I laid on my bed, staring up at the ceiling fan which hadn't worked for at least two years. Not that I ever needed it to work. I lived in England, on the rare occasion that it was sunny, I went outside to get a tan while I could.

It was half five in the morning, and I wished that my brain could just understand that if it had chance to sleep longer than a couple of hours it should embrace that opportunity whole-heartedly. 

Still, I guess I would have been awake anyway. I'm a light sleeper, and bin men and helicopters don't help when trying to get a much needed lie-in. Plus, it was summer, which, although lacked heat, meant more daylight. Daylight which streamed in through the crappy blind that covered my bedroom window.

Groaning, I swung my legs to the side of the bed and stood up. No, a lie-in was definitely out of the question. As I stretched, I was aware of the constant aches and pains that came with being a spy. I had a large bruise on my hip which wouldn't go away as I managed to hurt it on every mission. And the amount of scars on my body were just unthinkable for a teenage girl, whether she's used to it or not. 

I sighed and made my way downstairs. Living in a flat meant frequently having absolutely nothing to do. And besides, I spent most of my life not living in the flat anyway. 

The phone ringing, as I ate some cereal, lightened my mood for a few seconds... until I answered and heard the voice on the other end.

"Hello, Briony," it said, not particularly cheerfully.

"Oh, no, Boss. It's been a fortnight. You promised me a proper break this time." I complained.

"So your boss can't call just to say hi?"

"Not when you're a spy." I rolled my eyes. "And besides, since when do you call anyone just to say hi?"

"Fair point." He said. I could imagine him shrugging here, 'cause he didn't really care for light conversation. "It's not a big mission, Briony. Just some bank robbers."

I groaned. Whenever Boss said not a big mission, it normally started off as that, and then turned into a hell of a huge and difficult mission. "Oh."

"Well, I know you're accepting. Be down here in around half an hour so you can team up with Maximus."

I wanted to kick myself. Should've seen this coming. "Maximus!?" I exclaimed. "But I don't like Maximus!"

Boss sighed. "Briony," he said, irritably. "You're a professional."

Click.

So, with reluctance, I grabbed my gun and my uniform, stuffed it in my kit bag and called a taxi.

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Author guidance for This exercise

The Last Bullet

This is closed: for AutumnMay and Trish ONLY.

Characters

Name: Briony McAnderson
Age: 18
Looks: Mouse brown, shoulder length hair. Just below average height. Very agile and quite skinny. dark brown eyes.
Personality: Can hide emotion very easily. Tends to just get to the point rather than telling a long-winded story. Tries to think of the best way around things. Has experience being inconspicuous. Doesn't like hurting people, so tries not to use her gun. Can get a bit emotional at times.
Written by: AutumnMay

Name: Maximus Wayde
Age: 20
Looks: Golden-tan complexion alongside silky jet black hair and enticing emerald eyes. He's six feet tall and has a lean build.
Personality: Quite the ladies' man. Likes to play the role of a joker. Can easily get annoyed/angry and can be a little rash at times. Doesn't make it obvious that he cares about someone and likes to beat around the bush.
Written by: Trish

updated Jul 5 '11 by AutumnMay