“Miss Amy? Amy? Amy I’m here for the rent, its been 2 weeks love, comes on cough up.” Amy laid on her bed in the small, damp room. The humidity of the morning had caused the curtains to stick on the windows so the room lit yellow from the sunlight highlighting the white curtains.
“Miss Amy I don’t have all day love, I need the rent today otherwise I have to give you an eviction notice, you know I hate making those. Come on sweetie. Fine I give up if I don’t have the rent by this afternoon I have no choice but have to give you an eviction notice.”
Amy ignored her staring up at the ceiling stained brown from the water overflowing the bath tub once.
She wasn’t tired but she couldn’t move her muscles, they ached with hard work. Strewn across her room were her guns and bullets, mostly 9mm hand guns with a few rifles and pistols. She had spent the night on the other side of London firing bullets at a tough and rough gangster drug dealer, her mission destruction.
Amy worked a tough job all day and night non-optional on what to do, it controlled hers and many others lives.
Her bed cover was pale green which shone to brightly for her eyes awareness, every muscle ached from her tiresome evening dodging bullets and pulling triggers at wasted men, who didn’t belong on this earth.
The Money would be in her hands in less than 5 days until her tiresome muscles had to dodge more dangerous territories such as the Land lady’s space in the small flat.
Amy’s air space was restricted in this flat and it wasn’t long before the thoughts of more hard work were tensing her brain so much that she gasped for air, but she still refused to move.
Her salvation of air came when from underneath her, when a buzzing noise of extreme annoyance began.
Amy’s body was immediately activated as she reached underneath her small rusted bed.
The small red Motorola phone was out of date and had several chips and scratches all over its fragile body.
She lifted the flip and pressed the cool phone next to her ear.
“Amy, its Jessica here. We have another mission for you.”
Amy grunted a little, hoping that no one heard.
“Amy? Amy are you there?”
“Yes Jessica, I am here I just failed to answer.” Her voice was cracking and sore.
“Who’s the target?”
“An old friend of ours. Cameron Cummings. 20 years old, smart, enigmatic and totally gorgeous.”
“You’re not setting me, up I hope.”
“No of course not I just added that in there to see your reaction.”
“Of course you did Jessica.” Amy rolled her eyes, she had no intention of going out with any boy especially one that was her target and who was also suggested to by Jessica.
“Jessica, when will I get my money for last night op? I swear my landlady will do more than kick me out if I don’t produce some money soon!”
“You’ll get your money eventually, oh and by the way thanks for the shoot out last night our dead agent thought it were great.”
“He shouldn’t have got in the way.” Amy flicked through some papers she had just received from the mini fax in the corner of the room plugged into the only socket there was in the building that worked.
“Well stuff you.” Amy slammed the papers down on her spring bed, roses blossoming in her cheeks and heat radiating of her skin.
“Now look Jessica, if you trained your agents the way that I was trained then maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle and bother of filing a death report, ok.”
“Ok miss piggy, time for you to get anger-management I know someone great.”
“Oh yeah, well get them to kiss your arse.” She snapped her phone hard so that another crack appeared along the side of the red phones screen.
She pushed her phone on to the bed and jumped up and down like a spoilt child not getting there way.
After her queens jealousy moment she lay down on her bed staring up at the piece of paper she now held above her head.
“Cameron Cummings.” She repeated the words like they were poison; she couldn’t stand Jessica and her unkind and wicked sense of humour. Amy preferred people without a sense of humour because they were so much easy to impress and easier to handle without them seemingly getting on peoples nerves.
“Cameron Cummings.” Repeating it to see if it had the same disgusting poisonous feeling was stupid, saying his name again force some stomach acid creep up Amy’s throat; but she didn’t know if it was a reflex from thinking that Jessica thought that he was good for her or if it was pure detestation for his name.
She wasn’t looking to find out though because the outcome would most likely be the one that she was hoping for anyway.
“20 years old. Smart, enigmatic and totally gorgeous, were the exact words that Jessica used. If she believes that he is gorgeous, he must have the cover guy look. Sounds like a escort, whatever he looks like, he’s still going to feel the wrath of the bullet in my 9mm. God what has Jessica don’t to me I’m talking to myself. Ahh.” She banged on her hand on her head annoyed. “God just did it again. God I’m doing it now! Ow!” She flicked herself in the eyes next.
“Ok, Hay- Amy, SHUT UP!”
She fell back on to her bed hard with her pillow over her mouth trying to make herself shut up, this was normally an impossible task. The only thing that made her be quiet was the thud of the steps down to her room, the landlady was coming.
“Amy? Amy are you in there? If you are love I need the rent today…” She knocked on the door gently but then she gave up forcing herself to believe that perhaps she was insane. “I am getting crazy in my old age.” Were the last things that Amy heard of the Land-lady as she faded into silence.
Amy could breathe again. The pillow was suffocating her as were her muscles which continued to throb from the night before, she breathed out her lungs expanding wide enough for her heart to beat thousands of times so that she didn’t cough, because the landlady was only a few metres away from the door and would most likely still be able to hear everything that was said.
She now had a chance to read the information on the target that Jessica had been so anxious about to get her to know about.
The paper had slid out of her hands, so she reached under the bed to get it. It was badly creased from the crumpling of Amy had given it when she got annoyed with herself for talking to herself.
Amy became to start wondering about what this “Cameron Cummings?” looked like because it would be a lot easier to know what his weaknesses were, what injuries he had sustained in his life and what were his main areas of particular interest such as his gun holstering areas and his bombs.
Unfortunately there was no picture of this Cameron Cummings but being an expert profiler, the details of his hair colour and height would put a profile picture in Amy’s mind and after she got that picture she could think how he would think and what he would do in combat.
In the skills section of the profile it made Amy giggle. Smart and intelligent can dispose of a bomb in under a minute. Can speak 4 languages including Portuguese. Has had experience of 16 missions in 2 years.
If they really thought that this target was smart, then the agency must have dropped there standards since the days that Amy was there.
“I can dispose of a bomb in under 5 seconds, you cut the wire closes to the bomb unless it’s red, I can speak 9 Languages including Russian, and I have had the experience of 260 missions in the last year. If they think that I can’t destroy this target then they are thick in the head. Damn it I’m speaking to myself again.”