Chapter One: Eloise Dubois

Her glossy black hair clung to her back as she swam towards the dock. The sun was just barely peeking its head above the horizon and the sky was still a dark inky black. The water was like a dark void and it felt cool and smooth against her skin, she was swimming at a steady pace enjoying the cold letting it seep into her bones and wake up her senses. When she made it to the small wooden dock she pushed herself up on the edge and sat letting her legs and feet dangle in the water, she could see the shore, the white sand was just starting to reflect the soft light of morning. She could see her little car parked in the beach parking lot awaiting a return that she would never make. She pushed her damp hair out of her face, the sun was about a quarter of the way above the horizon now and she could feel the soft kisses of the sun's rays as it filled the dark sky with warm light. She stood up on the dock, pulling her arms behind her back and leaning forward stretching them over her head. It was a quiet morning, just the soft sound as the water lapped against the dock and the faint cry of a bird that had been woken up too early from its slumber. She stood up rolling her shoulders back and standing up straight before she made her way to the small metal box that sat in the right hand corner of the dock. The box was made out of thick metal and had the slightest bit of rust damage on the corner closest to the water, but was otherwise in perfect condition, the glossy white paint shining faintly in the morning sun. A large combination lock held the box shut, but her thin pale fingers twisted the numbered dials quickly. 9761185. The satisfying click of the lock popping open, she opens the lid and inside the box she finds a large, white fluffy bath towel, a wet suit, a small oxygen tank, and a phone. She tosses the towel up in the air holding on to one side and lets it float down to the dock, it looks so out of place against the dark wet wood in the middle of the lake. She then takes the small satchel that she had secured to her chest. Inside the waterproof black bag is a lump of cheese, an apple and a granola bar. She unfastens the belt from around her waist, disconnecting her water blatter and taking a sip before setting it down on the towel. She is wearing a tight black swimsuit that hugs her body from her shoulders to about midway down her thighs. Her soft curves are prominent, she has always had good boobs but they are pushed together being held in place by the tight swimsuit and cant help jutting out from the neck line. At least the upside to wearing a swimsuit with shorts is that you don't have to worry about it being too tight in certain areas. Sitting down on the towel she lets her head fall back, closing her eyes and trying to orient herself in the direction of the sun, letting it warm her body after the cold swim.

This will be her third mission in as many years and she was starting to wonder when she would stop answering the phone. Starting to forget what the point of this was. She had no life. No family. No friends. And absolutely no romantic partners. Maybe that was what made her such a good spy, maybe her being so disconnected from everyone made her such a great candidate for MI6 in the first place. MI6 had recruited early on in university, they told her that she had been chosen to participate in an assessment for a prestigious scholarship opportunity and 6 months later she was an intern of MI6 learning the ins and outs of what it is like working for a large government organization. She advanced through the ranks very quickly and was a field agent full time by her second year. After she graduated from college she started working on longer cases, going out of town for days at a time. She took some time off before her first deep cover mission and it was the first time she had actually spent time in her apartment in months. The furniture was boring and plain, she didn't have any food in her fridge and she didn't have a TV till she bought one the first day she was home alone. Until then she had no real reason to make her apartment look nice or feel cozy because she was never homeanyway. It made her good at her job. Even before she had started working deep cover, when was still a field officer she had no one. It was what made her good at her job, she was always available, always ready to go at the drop of a hat. She hadn't quite decided if that had been for the best or not. She holds her head up again squinting at the sun, before she reaches over to the apple and pulls a small knife off her belt cutting her apple into 6 equal pieces. She unfolds the brown butcher paper from the cheese and cuts off a piece and puts it on top of the apple and takes one large bite before leaning over to pick the phone off the towel. She unlocks it and there is only one audio recording on the device. She takes one more breath before she taps the recording and presses play. There is a bit of static before the voice starts, “Good morning Agent Morgan” an almost robotic, english accent drones over the speakers. “We are so pleased that you have decided to join us for another exciting adventure!” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that sentiment. It almost sounded as if the robotic voice was attempting to get a rise out of her, but what was she thinking it was a phone not a person. She let out a deep sigh letting her head fall back again and her eyes flutter closed as the voice continues. “Your mission in Barcelona was quite the success, you are receiving high praise for your efforts and appreciate everything you are doing to help protect your country.” Her head snapped forward at this, in the last 3 years she has never received a word of encouragement, or praise or feedback. Unless something went wrong, unless they needed someone to blame for a mission failure or something not panning out exactly how they thought it was going to. Her first mission, first time being in deep cover and it was the worst year of her life. It felt as if she were being slowly turned into someone else.

Everyday that she had to wake up and pretend to be Lizzy, kiss her fake boyfriend, hang out with her fake friends and go out to events as someone she wasn’t made her skin crawl. She requested less public missions after that and got very good at blending into the background and being invisible. It was easier for her than trying to take up the spotlight. However her last mission had been extremely successful, because not only had she been able to take down the man she was meant to find, she accidentally stumbled across his boss and was able to take him down as well. He had been the leader of one of the largest cartels in Ireland and had been living a very lavish lifestyle in Key West. Taking him down and getting him behind bars had made a lot of people very angry. She wasn't worried about that though because she doubted they even knew who she was let alone what she looked like. She was an excellent ghost. “We are currently following former CIA agent gone rogue Harper Freedom”, the voice continued pulling her back from her thoughts, “His is a high level military with connections primarily in weapons of mass destruction. Last known location was Washington D.C. three months ago. We had agents on him for months before he disappeared.” Three months since his last known sighting, that wasn't great news, she doubted that he was still in D.C. and was already assuming that he must have driven, she couldn't see him flying without being detected and she thought that a train would even be too public. Even so she was going to have to start in D.C. and see if she can find any information on where he could have gone on any kind of trail. She tugged the wetsuit closer to her and picked up one of the arms looking at it more closely. It had a small screen built into the right wrist that had coordinates already programmed in. “Your mission is to track down freedom and get eyes on him as soon as possible, as of right now you are not to engage with the target, if the outcome of the mission changes we will be in touch with you, as soon as you find freedom contact us by pay phone only using your Agent Identification. We wish you well on your mission and advise that this message will self-destruct in, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6…” Pulling her arm backholding the phone in her hand she throws it as hard as she can into the water. There is a soft woosh as the small explosion goes off and then it is silent, except for the soft lapping of the waves and tired squawks of the birds and other forest animals. She doesn’t wait long, popping the last bite of apple and cheese into her mouth before sanding up and pulling the tight wet suit over her still damp body, picking up the rubbish from the cheese and the apple, folding up the bath towel and placing it back into the box spinning the lock. She reattaches her utility belt and the small satchel before checking the oxygen tank and mask. The tank has enough oxygen for an hour swim and according to the GPS the destination was about 40 minutes away. She sat down on the edge of the dock and placed the oxygen over her face. She takes one last deep breath before plunging into the cold dark unknown.