Resurrection - Coming back from the dead can be a bitch...

They're Back!

Katrina and Declan are back in an all new mission.
We hope you enjoy it.

Resurrection - Part 1
by Sacha L. Davis

It was quiet.

*Too damn quiet.*

Katrina let her breath out softly, slow and measured. She took in
another, the icy air burning through her lungs. She could feel the chill of the snow where she lay, not moving a muscle.

It was one of those clear cold nights, the moon a tiny sliver and the stars were struggling pinpoints of light against a velvety black canvass. Trees rose toward the sky, gray specters looming above her, casting strange shadows across the silvery snow. Lifting the binoculars to her eyes, Katrina stared across the frozen landscape. Nothing. Not even a rabbit scurried across the stillness.

“Why the hell are we here?” Katrina muttered out loud, knowing that the person sitting in the SUV 500 yards away would hear her ever word transmitted through a tiny microphone embedded in the stitching of her jacket. Had it only been a week and so much had changed? Katrina’s mind spun backwards, remembering…

She’d been sitting in her dimly lit studio, the corners of the room
swallowed by darkness, a glass sweating in her hand. She brought the glass in her hand to her mouth and tipped it back, feeling the burn of vodka down the back of her throat, waiting for the numbness to start and another night to into a haze of alcohol and ecstasy and whoever she happened to take home to fuck until dawn. - another night trying to keep the demons away. Then the phone rang.

“Do you travel to Paris?”

Katrina froze as the gravelly voice asked the question one more time. Her body started to tingle and her hands went cold as the glass tumbled to the ground, liquid spreading quickly across the dingy hardwood floor. The scent of a ghost filled her nostrils - his scent - sweet and musky, and she felt the edges of her eyelids become wet with tears. Katrina slammed the phone down without saying a word. It was her activation code. They were trying to pull her in.

Katrina stood up, swaying slightly. The memories she’d spent years trying to smother, to eradicate, flooded through her and she could feel him: his fingers on her skin tracing patterns of fire, lips hot against her neck, the way he said her name, his moss green eyes flecked with gold and filled with nightmares, the scar across his back he’d never talk about, the weight of his body on hers, the feel of his hand in hers and the way he loved her. Her body shook as she picked a book off the coffee table.

“NO!” she yelled, her voice sounded strange, like it belonged to another person.

She threw the book, as hard as she could and it slammed against the exposed brick wall with an unsatisfying thunk, dropping to the ground. She grabbed a bottle off the table and placed the mouth to her lips and felt the lukewarm vodka sting her throat as she sunk into the only chair in the apartment, his name hanging off her lips until it escaped, a torn whisper, fading into the silence. It was a name Katrina hadn’t dare say for three years.

***

They called back. She knew they would. She agreed to the meeting just so she could tell them to go to hell in person. They’d taken everything from her and she had nothing left to give.

Deadly assassins didn’t fall in love but Katrina hadn’t read that part of the goddamn handbook. Declan O’Conner had been her entire life and that was her mistake. Her stupid mistake and she’d paid. She’d paid with months of pain, nightmares, cold sweats, spiraling into a dark abyss. She’d paid as she pushed the needle into her arm, waiting or the numbness, shooting up with strangers in dark alleyways, sleeping with men for enough money to get her next high. She’d paid as her stomach heaved one more time and her body shuddered, begging for the numbness of heroin that Katrina wouldn’t give it. Katrina Bradley died and was reborn as a creature with no feelings, track marks down her arms, scars on her hands, her eyes cavernous haunted holes, a thing that craved darkness, someone who could only find happiness in a pill, vacuous and void. And now they were trying to pull her back.

She didn’t want to go back. But they offered money - lots of money for just one job. They needed someone who had been in Bosnia and she’d been living in Sarajevo. It was routine. They didn’t have anyone with her level of expertise. And it was a lot of money – enough to keep Kat alive another year. For just one job. She said yes then slunk out into the darkness, another anonymous person stalking another dimly lit club, ordered a stiff drink, picked up a tall blond and screwed her brains out until she felt the grime of her life envelope her again and Declan sunk to the back of her mind at least until the morning light.

*Stop it. Stop remembering.*

Kat’s mind returned to the task at hand - the hand-off that was supposed to take place tonight. It was a government worker betraying his country, selling vials of anthrax that the Legacy had decided they wanted for themselves. They’d been there for two hours, waiting and waiting. Katrina let out another soft, controlled breath, careful not to let any noise escape through the still air. Then she saw them. Two figures moving between the trees.

“Contact.” She said softly to her companion. Kat lifted the binoculars to her eyes again. She focused on the figures, both tall and slim, one swaying slightly, his back toward her, the other with something in his
hand. Katrina squinted at the figures, outlined in the green tones of night vision. What did he have…

It took her less than a second to realize what the second man had in his hand was a Russian issued glock semi-automatic. She furrowed her brow and was about to report the situation to her partner when the first man turned toward her, his face starting blankly over her into the woods.

*Declan*

Katrina felt herself go cold with recognition as she stared at the face of the man she’d thought was dead for three years. She gasped, the sound traveling through the night air and the man with the gun turned her way. In less than a second, Katrina’s own Glock was steady in her hand; finger pulling the trigger as she rolled across the snow, a bullet spiraled
through the air until it lodged itself into the femoral artery of the man with the gun. His pant leg went dark with blood. Her finger squeezed a second time as she pushed herself up out of the snow, a second bullet spiraled, tearing into the jugular vein on his neck. With a soft gurgle the man’s eyes glazed over and he fell forward into the snow.

Katrina stood up and stared across the space separating her from her long-lost lover. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might jump out of her chest. Their eyes locked and his mouth opened as if to say her name. Katrina took a step forward just as Declan’s eyes slipped shut, his head fell forward and he collapsed.

***

The white SUV was parked on the side of the snowy road, no lights on, blending quietly into the snowy terrain. In the back a woman was sitting with a laptop, jabbing frantically at its keys. She was tall, almost six feet, with warm brown skin and black eyes her lovers told her they wanted to drown in. She had a stomach that was taut and muscular, her arms bulged with muscle and her hair was cut short and simple - she figured no hot spy chick wanted to have to do her hair before taking out the enemy. Her name was Angel Diez, she was in her first year out of the academy and was pissed off that they had stuck her with Katrina Bradley, rogue agent, drug addict, and all around screw-up. When Katrina had showed up at the rendezvous point, Angel noted the emaciated appearance, the scars on her arms, and sneered. She’d never make it to the top ranks with these types of crap assignments.

The laptop beeped and Angel pushed a couple keys then stared at the screen. Maybe Bradley had made contact.

WHY THE HELL ARE WE HERE?

The words scrolled across the screen as they were received off Bradley’s microphone. Angle glared at the computer screen and wondered why the hell Katrina Bradley was pulled out of retirement for this. Angel entered in a few more coordinates then stopped. She listened in the still air then shook her head. The boredom of this assignment had her hearing things.

The minutes ticked by. Ten, then fifteen, and Bradley hadn’t said anything. Then it came through – a single word across the screen.

SHIT.

Then a sentence.

IT’S A SETUP.

That was when Angel heard the gunshot. Her stomach tightened as she jumped up. Then she heard the second.

***

The younger agent came running into the clearing and Katrina winced at the racket she made. She stopped and looked at the scene; two bodies lying in the snow, one twisted grotesquely; face down with the snow around him turning crimson. The second man was sprawled in the snow on his back, unconscious. Katrina knelt next to him, her hands shaking as she felt his arms and legs, testing to see if there was a hidden injury. She could already feel the dry heat running across his skin. From the feel of it, she guessed he was running at least a 105 degree fever.

Her hands went back to his face, tracing it lightly with trembling
fingertips, brushing across chapped lips.

“What the….”

“He’s dead.” Katrina said, her voice tight, tipping her head toward the other body.

“I can see that. What the hell is going on Bradley?”

Katrina didn’t answer but turned her back to Angel and felt for a pulse – it was slow – Declan’s body was fighting to stay alive and he could go into shock any moment. Katrina tried to quell the panic rising in her throat.

“We have to get him out of here.”

“We don’t have to do anything.” Angel shot back and Katrina heard the resentment threaded through her voice. Why had they saddled her with a newbie for this assignment, let alone someone who had no respect for her whatsoever? Katrina had seen the disdain in the other agent’s eyes, the disappointment of being saddled with a has-been.

“What about the other one?”

“Leave him.” Katrina growled. “Do you really care about a dead man?”

The younger agent walked over to the body in the snow and nudged it with her toe. Then she froze and bent down, inspecting it closer.

“¡Oh mi dios!”

Katrina wanted to ignore her but something caught her attention, the soft sound of metal against fabric. Slowly she reached down to her ankle as she crouched next to Declan’s motionless body and her hand closed tightly around the handle of the small Beretta she had stowed their earlier. With a quick motion she sprung up and whipped around, gun drawn. Diez stood across from her, her own gun drawn, anger furrowed into her brow. The two women faced each other, guns held steady and their heavy breathing audible in the chilled air.

“What the hell have you done?”

“Diez…” Katrina said softly, her voice soft, convincing.

“I knew you were bad news, Bradley.” Angel hissed through clenched teeth. “The minute I saw you I knew you shouldn’t be trusted.”

“Put your gun down Diez.” Katrina said firmly, her tone authoritative.

“Go to hell.”

“Put the fucking gun down.” Katrina spit out as her control slipped, anger surging through her body. “You don’t pull a gun on your partner…”

Diez moved forward, her face hard as stone. “You’re not my partner.” She hissed. “I have to bring you in, bitch. You’ve broken conduct….”

*Conduct?* Katrina’s mind was processing the information as fast as possible. Did Diez mean the agency code of conduct?

“Killing a friendly agent is a violation. Especially…”

“Slow down Diez.” Katrina’s voice was calm again, measured, tightly controlled as she stared intently at the other woman. The words *friendly agent* played over and over in her head. It couldn’t be Declan – Diez was too young to have worked with Dec. Katrina motioned over to the body, a grey lump lying in the snow, arms splayed out. “You know that man?”

“Don’t you?”

“Would I be asking if I did?”

“His name is Brendan Noyes. I saw him a couple times when I was training.”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know exactly – someone high-up. They were keeping something hush-hush around him.”

Katrina’s felt the ground coming up at her as her stomach clenched tight with each of Angel’s revelations. Her breathing was shallow as she fought for control. She was in the middle of Bosnia with the dead body of a high-up Legacy official who’d she’d just efficiently assassinated. Her lover was lying unconscious in the snow close to death and a punk-ass kid had a gun pulled on her. None of that really mattered because above all, it was a setup and would be killed if they didn’t move quickly.

“They probably have a team out already.” Katrina muttered quietly, her gun still held level. Her focus went back to the other woman. “Put your gun down and we’ll figure out what to do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Think about it. Why did they put you on this assignment Agent Diez. Why
did you get stuck with a washed up has-been like me? Why did they have to ave me? They knew what I’d do when I saw…” Katrina’s voice trailed off…as she glanced over at Declan. “It’s a setup from start to finish.”

“Go to hell.” Angel growled. “And I’ll be more than happy to send you there myself.”

“Diez… If you think you can just pull the trigger of that gun, think again. I know ways to disarm you that you were never taught in the academy. And I know plenty of ways that will mess you up.”

Katrina fought to keep the shaking out of her voice. It was a game of intimidation and she needed the other woman to be afraid.

“And don’t think I’m afraid of killing you. I took him down with two shots, but I could do you in one, and before you even knew I’d pulled the trigger.” She continued, her voice hissing through the darkness. “I have nothing to lose now – I’m marked for termination.”

The other woman’s hand began to shake, almost imperceptibly.

“And so are you…you just don’t know what they are capable of doing yet. You haven’t had them rip your life away from you like I have. You still trust them.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Angel asked quietly.

“Because they sent you here for a reason – because you’re disposable.”

Katrina saw a flicker of dreams in Angel’s eyes and it almost made her laugh out loud. The little girl had thought she could become something in the Legacy. The only thing the Legacy could make you was a deep bottomless blank in the shape of a human being. The only thing it would ever do for you was use you again and again.

“We need to leave this place Angel.” Katrina said softly, a moment of empathy for the girl ran through her. “He’s sick.” She glanced down at Declan’s prone body. “I don’t know with what, but I have to get him to safety. Every minute we stay here is another minute toward our deaths.”

Angel Diez stood for another moment then the hard lines of her stance softened. Slowly she dropped her gun to her side. Katrina felt the tension fall from her body.

“Now help me.” she said, crouching down next to Declan. “We need to move him.”

“How do we know he can be trusted?”

Katrina looked up at the woman towering above her.

“Diez, this is someone I would die for. He can be trusted. Now, we need to wake him up.”