Crossing the Line (4 page)

He jumped in front of me as we got to the training facility's doors. He leaned in menacingly close. “You pull shit like this again and I'll report it to Simmonds.”

I inhaled sharply. I knew the limb Simmonds was on for believing me. I didn't want to make things harder for him. Scorpion held my gaze for another moment before turning his back on me and heading inside.

Just inside the training facility's door was a long hallway, with a set of double doors right in front of us. Up until yesterday I had never left the Operations Building, so all of this was new to me. I was processing every detail. I wanted to know all I could about this place—the swifter I could move around, the better off I would be.

The first floor was a wide-open gym with punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and mats that spread from one wall to the other
like a rug—probably for sparring. The walls were lined with different combat weapons. Most were dulled or made for practice, but a few looked sharp enough to do some damage. On the right was a glass wall and behind it was the cardio equipment. There was a faint smell of sweat in the air, but it was heavily masked. This was a huge upgrade from the cold cement floors I was used to. And at KATO we used one another as punching bags.

I barely had a chance to take all this in before someone attacked me. One of her hands squeezed my shoulder while her other forearm pressed just below my neck. She pushed me backward, slamming me against the wall. For a moment, all I could see was her hard ice-blue eyes.

“How dare you come here?” Her voice was low and full of anger.

I stayed frozen, studying her face, trying to figure her out. She seemed even angrier than the others. “How can you be here after what you did?”

This was something personal. “What did I do to you?”

It was her turn to look shocked. “You don't even remember.” She pressed her arm harder into my collarbone. “You drove a knife into my ribs and you don't even remember it was me?”

Scorpion came up behind her, but he didn't react right away. He wore a satisfied, condescending expression, giving the girl some time. After another minute, he exhaled reluctantly and pulled her away. “Come on, Rachel.”

“
No.
” She struggled against him, trying to get back to me. “Even if I believed that she isn't working for KATO—which I
don't
—she doesn't get to just come in and train like she's one of us.”

“Simmonds says she does,” Scorpion said with a harsh, angry edge.

“And you're on board with this?” Her voice was reaching a panicked shriek.

He gave her a long, even look that made it clear he wasn't, but he also was set on honoring Simmonds's request.

Rachel's eyes widened, angrier than before. “This is bullshit!” She stormed off through another set of doors on the other side of the room, her straight, perfect light-brown hair swinging behind her. When she was gone, the only sound was the hum of the radiator.

I suddenly realized just how many people were in the room. There had to be about sixty to seventy agents, all positioned in various places around the facility. Some were training with one another while others worked agility courses and punching bags. Or at least that's what they had been doing. Now everyone was staring at me. Scorpion turned back to me with a triumphant look, then he walked off to the corner, toward Cody and a dark-haired girl I didn't know. I rolled my shoulders back and refused to worry about anyone else. It was the only survival tactic I had, and it had kept me alive so far. According to my schedule, this was agents-only gym time. The facility was shared between active agents and academy students. This was the one time of the day that only active agents were allowed in.

I moved past the faces, heading toward the punching bags in the back of the room. I had to pass my trusted guide and his friends to get there. Cody had been talking to Scorpion, but the closer I got, the more he focused on me, his stance got more and more defensive. His head was clearly still back in the cafeteria. “You're one crazy bitch,
you know that?” he said. “I don't care what agency you're from. You don't get to pull that kind of shit here.”

He stood half a step in front of Scorpion with his arms crossed. Just as protective as he had been earlier. He was either his brother or a really good friend. I shrugged a shoulder casually. “You asked for a demonstration.”

He laughed harshly, with an edge of disbelief. “Right. Like it would have mattered. You would have found another reason.” I crossed my arms and squared myself, waiting as he stepped closer. “You think we all don't know
everything
about you? You're one of KATO's best cold killers. The damage you've done is jaw-dropping.”

I'd heard the term “cold killer” before and it made my blood turn to ice. It was for spies who killed innocents to prove a point. KATO was famous for it and I was their best. I did it to survive. And to get high, which seemed like the same thing most of the time. I fought all of this off and smiled. “That's funny. I still don't have the faintest idea who you are—I guess you're not too impressive around here.”

He tensed. “You
fucking
—” He took a step toward me, but Scorpion pulled him back.

“Cody, don't. Simmonds will have you out of the field for a year.” He glared at me. “Besides, I think Rachel got the point across.”

I crossed my arms and held my ground, determined. No one here had the power they thought they did.

“We may have to put up with you,” Cody said through gritted teeth, “but the less time you spend around us, the better off we all are.”

“Then stop talking to me, and leave me alone.”

Cody still wanted to fight, but Scorpion, who hadn't let go of his
arm, tugged him back.

He refocused his group into their normal routine, trying to save them all from getting in trouble because of me. There was still one girl from their group who hadn't come after me yet, but I figured that was just a matter of time. I found a corner with a punching bag off to the side, and spent the gym time working to get myself back in shape. But the one thing that wasn't lost on me was the attention I was getting from Scorpion. Even though he was yards away and wrapped up in his own training, he never stopped scrutinizing. He was just waiting for me to start something. I shut the rest of the gym out. I had too much on the line. It would be a while before I was anywhere near ready to go after KATO, but I was determined to be prepared when the time came.

S
corpion dropped me off for my first class fifteen minutes early, then stood outside waiting for the teacher to arrive. I had four classes in the afternoon and was trusted enough to get to each of them on my own. But Scorpion wasn't about to leave me unsupervised for more than the five minutes in between classes.

I took a seat in the back corner of the room, hoping to stay as far out of the way as humanly possible. I didn't know what to expect from a situational assessment class, but the room itself was a little surprising. I was used to sitting on the floor in a small room while some older operative drilled information into my head. This couldn't have been more different.

The room was big enough for two columns of two-person tables, with each column five rows deep. In the front there was a wider table with a computer in the corner, and behind that table, slightly to the left, was a white slab mounted on the wall. I had no idea what the purpose of
that
was. As a whole, the setup vaguely reminded me of my classroom experience before I was taken. Except the rooms seemed smaller back then and somehow less intimidating. Nothing about this IDA situation was comfortable. I could handle the name-calling and aggressive agents, but a classroom with students was another
story. I had never felt more out of place.

“You must be Jocelyn.” A kind voice startled me back to reality.

I fixed a sardonic smile on my lips and ran my finger across the table as if I couldn't care less. “That would be me.”

The woman was average height and in shape, even though from what I'd overheard, teachers weren't active in the field. She put her bag down on the desk, pulled out a pen and notebook, then came and took the seat next to me. “It's good that you're early. It gives us a chance to talk,” she said. “I'm Agent Lee.” Up close I could see she had kind brown eyes—which put me on guard.

She put the notebook and pen on the table and slid them over to me as kids started to fill in the room around us. Agent Lee ignored them, even the few that called out her name. “I figured no one would take the time to get you any kind of supplies. You can use this notebook for your notes, and you'll find textbooks have been sent to your room. It's school policy to save the reading for outside of class, so you don't need to worry about bringing them back and forth.”

I arched my eyebrows. “Reading?”

Concern flashed across her face. “You
do
know how to read, don't you?”

I rolled my eyes. “I'm fluent in six languages and functional in four others.
Of course
I know how to read. I just haven't had to do it for school in a while.”

Agent Lee smiled and relaxed. “I would imagine it'll take some time to get adjusted to a new lifestyle, but you'll get the hang of it. You've only missed a couple weeks of class, so you're not too far behind, but for now, why don't you just focus on learning the new material
and we'll catch you up on the old stuff when you're acclimated.”

I nodded uncertainly. She was nice. And I couldn't figure out how much of it was an act.

“Excellent.”

“How old is everyone else?” I asked, glancing around at the few kids in the room. I was expecting them to be my age, but they looked younger.

“In this class, most are sixteen.” The bell rang and she stood up, leaning a little closer as she did. “You're going to be fine.” She tapped the table reassuringly, then moved back to the front of the room to get started.

Without Agent Lee to distract me, I noticed the buzz, whispers, and glances that were flying around the room. I had no doubt they were all about me.

There were two girls sitting at the table in front of me in deep conversation. The smaller one probably didn't even hit five feet tall but she had her blond hair piled high on her head to give an illusion of height. Her friend was just shorter than me. Granted, I was a little on the taller side. Suddenly, the blond girl turned around. “So, are you really a double agent? We're
dying
to know.”

I blinked. Surprised by the open directness of the question. “No. I'm really not.”

The girl shrugged casually. “That's what I figured. Simmonds is pretty protective of this place.”

Her friend glanced at her. “You never know.”

But the first girl just rolled her eyes and turned back to me. “But you
are
a field agent, right? You've been on actual
missions
?”

“I guess.” I shifted, uncomfortable with the attention. “Yeah.”

Her eyes widened. “That's
so
cool.”

“What grade are you in?” the friend asked, squinting to study me. “You look too old to be a sophomore like the rest of us.”

I could just barely get around their easy acceptance to process the question. “I don't think I'm in a grade.”

“Oh,” the blond said. This seemed to throw them off. “Well, what track are you in?” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you even in a track?”

Now I was the one confused. “I don't know what you're talking about,” I said.

“Really?” She leaned closer, all too eager to explain. “Well, after this year we get to pick an area to specialize in, then we take classes designed to make us experts in our areas.” She searched my face for some kind of recognition, but I was still in the dark. “For example, I'm planning on specializing in grifting, so after this year most of my classes will focus on acting, psychology, and stuff like that.”

“So you'll only go on missions that require grifting?” I asked.

“Not
only
grifting,” she said. “All agents can handle any assignment, but we all have our skill sets, and the IDA wants us using them as much as possible.” KATO played to my strengths in a similar way, but instead of training me to be the best, I had to prove that I was. “I'm Gwen, by the way.” Then she gestured to her friend. “And this is Olivia. She's looking to specialize in observational intelligence, but she also has an amazing brain for strategic planning.”

“
Gwen.
” Olivia glared at her friend.

“Sorry,” Gwen said with a shrug. “But it's true.” Then she turned back to me. “What about you? We know your code name, but I'm assuming you have a real one.” She gave me a smile so true it caught me off guard.

“I'm—Jocelyn,” I said. I hadn't said my name once at KATO, and I'd barely used it since I'd been back. I was surprised by how thick and unfamiliar it felt on my tongue. “And I guess retrieval would be my specialty.” That and assassination had been my strengths at KATO, but I didn't think I needed to tell them about the second one.

“Retrieval?” Olivia asked. “I wonder if you'll end up on the in-house team.”

I arched an eyebrow at the term, and Gwen read my confusion. “The IDA gets a piece of its budget by retrieving stolen items—especially art—in exchange for reward money. It's the in-house team's job to track and retrieve the missing items.”

I tipped my head doubtfully. “I don't think anyone would be too comfortable with me being that deep into the internal operations of this place.” I had never known the IDA was partially self-funded, but it made sense. It would make it a lot harder for one country to have complete control if the agency had a say their budget.

“You never know,” Gwen said before moving on. “Everyone's been talking about you since word got out last night. Is Agent Elton really your handler?”

“All right, everyone,” Agent Lee said from the front of the room, sparing me an answer. “Today we're going to continue our immediate assessment unit. We've already discussed the elements to consider and potential approaches. Now it's time to put that into practice.”

Before she could continue, a short, dark-haired boy sauntered into the room, just a little too relaxed for someone who was almost five minutes late.

“Sam. I'm so sorry I didn't wait for you to start class,” Agent Lee
said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “But the bell rang and it just—
meant
something to me.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. In my experience, teachers didn't have a sense of humor, just a deadly temper.

Sam beamed. “It's okay, Agent Lee, I understand.” He started across the room, but stopped when he spotted me. He turned back to Lee. “You let the new girl sit in my seat?”

Lee shrugged. “She was on time.”

Sam smiled and shook his head before heading back toward me and dropping in the empty seat to my left. Sam pulled out his phone and started playing some kind of game, unconcerned by the fact that Agent Lee was trying to teach. I couldn't help but notice he was also the only person who was completely unaffected by me. So far, people either antagonized me or were curious about me. But Sam didn't seem to care whether I was in the room or not.

I turned my attention back to Lee, who had picked up a stack of index cards from her desk, fanned them out in front of her, and continued her instructions. “Each of these cards has on it a situation that would require immediate action. On a separate piece of paper, you're going to write down the number that's on the top corner of the card, followed by how you would handle the situation. You have fifteen seconds to make your assessment and pass the card to the person next to you.”

“Is this a test?” a boy on the other side of the room asked.

“I think you can answer that for yourself, Adam,” Agent Lee said as she started handing out the cards, making sure to put them facedown.

Adam sighed. “Everything's a test because everything counts in
the field.” He sounded bored, as if this was something that had been repeated in the past.

Agent Lee nodded and continued moving around the room. When she got to me, she paused. “Just give this a shot, and try not to overthink it, okay?”

I nodded and pulled the card closer, waiting for a sign to start. Everyone flipped their card over when Agent Lee gave the signal and I did the same. I scanned the card. It was a short description involving a retrieval assignment and approaching enemy agents. I picked up my pen to answer, but then I paused. I knew how KATO had trained me to answer, but I was sure it wasn't what the IDA was looking for. Lee told us to switch before I had even written a word down. No one else seemed to have a problem.

By the end, I didn't have a single complete answer. I wasn't even questioning my strategy for most of them. I trusted myself to react in any of the situations I'd read, but I struggled to explain how.

After Agent Lee collected our papers, she spent the rest of the time talking in the front of the room while the class scribbled in their notebooks. I had no idea what they were writing. The only person who didn't seem to bother was Sam, next to me. He pulled his phone out like he had when he first sat down and started tapping the screen. When the bell rang he put his phone in his pocket and headed out the door with the others right behind him. No one waited for any kind of formal dismissal from Agent Lee.

I let out a tight breath, picked up my notebook and pen, and moved toward the exit.

“Have a good day, Jocelyn,” Agent Lee said, erasing the white slab, which I had learned was called a whiteboard.

I paused and studied her for a moment, searching her body language for any sign that she was insincere. But I couldn't find one. I nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

I stepped into the hallway, hating that all of this had me so overwhelmed.

 • • • 

The rest of my day wasn't any better. In addition to the classes themselves, none of the other teachers were as welcoming as Agent Lee. My second class was Weapons and Arms with Mark Reynolds. He was older, with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair, and he couldn't go more than five minutes without throwing out a phrase with a double meaning that was unquestionably meant for me. My third class was Oppositional Protocol with Wayne Scott, who didn't seem to like me any more than Reynolds did. His method was simply to ignore me, which I was fine with.

I couldn't keep up with these classes any better than I could Agent Lee's, and I still didn't understand why everyone else kept
writing
. I held on to my pen just to have something to do. I was also having a hard time with the other kids. It felt like in some ways they looked up to me, which ate at me in a way I hadn't expected. Sure, I was a field agent, but with all the things I'd done I definitely wasn't the kind of person designed to be a role model. The attention made my skin crawl. I felt the craving creep into my system and I had to grip my pen tighter to steady myself.

But I was keeping it together. My greatest challenge came with my last class, Global Dynamics with Agent Sidney Harper. He was younger than the other teachers, all of whom seemed to be in their thirties or forties. Agent Harper looked like he could have been
around twenty-five, which put him a few years older than Scorpion, but right in the age range of the agents he had trained with earlier in the day.

And he had the same attitude toward me that they had. “Viper.” He said my name with an evil twist to his lips. I sat up straight and defensive. “Can you name the country most commonly associated with a dictatorship?”

I clenched my teeth and focused on the blank page in front of me. I thought I was prepared to have my past talked about, but Harper was proving me wrong. The next thing I knew he was standing over me and his hand slammed against the table with enough force to startle Sam, who was again sitting next to me. But I didn't jump. I didn't even flinch. If I moved more than I had to I was going to give my weakness away. He was doing this to get at the part of me that was a brainwashed kidnapped victim, but that version of me didn't fit this mission.

I slowly and evenly looked up at Agent Harper. I could feel everyone's eyes on me.