Disappearing, Inc.

Chapter 3- Derek Thorton

Chapter 3- Derek Thorton

Beep. Beep. Beep. My alarm clock blared.

"Who turned on the alarm?" I moaned in disgust.

A few groans were issued from the rest of the room.

"AMY!" We cried simultaneously.

"Good morning ladies! Big case, big training!"

"Not big enough to start out at 5:30." I complained.

Amy either didn't hear my comment, or chose to ignore it. "Better be downstairs in ten minutes or Darwin will make you do extra push-ups!" She trilled. Darwin, our trainer, is a bazillion year old retired spy. Although he should be considered legally blind and nearly deaf, it seemed his dying wish was to train us to death.

I rolled out of bed along with the rest of my team and picked up the closet tablet. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I decided I was too lazy to walk fifteen feet and pick out an outfit myself, so the tablet did it for me.

"Black legging, black converse, and a random t-shirt from a 10k I never did." I requested, pinching my wrist to keep me from dozing off again. The automated voice replied and out came my order. I picked up the bright orange shirt and read out the title of the race 'Run for Florida's Hungry'. Apparently I really cared for those poor Floridians.

"Race you down!" Morgan chanted. I sprinted for the door, then slid down the banister to the foot of the stairs. I landed on my butt in front of the long table in the dining hall. Madame Miranda sat before me with Amy to her left with five manila folders in front of her. Morgan was seated quietly on the other side of the table next to Kelsey. Before I could ask her how she got down so fast, Brooke walked up and sat down. This declared me late.

"Claire!" Warned Madame Miranda.

"I apologize for my tardiness Madame Miranda." I bowed and made a face while my head was concealed by my mop of strawberry blonde hair. I hated being late to breakfast, but somehow, I always was.

"Girls. We need to get down to business about your mission. Your first assassination is a very big step in life. Do you remember yours Amy?" Madame Miranda asked, turning her head towards her. Amy's face became a pale white and a sickly look crossed her eyes. She reached up and brushed her scar, as if Madame Miranda's words triggered the motion. She then shoved her arm back into her lap, obviously not wanting to discuss the topic. What could of happened to make Amy so unsettled?

Madame Miranda continued, "Our boss, X, sent me these folders containing what we know about our subject."

"How come we don't know anything about X? Why does X want to kill this person anyways? We never know why--" Morgan was cutoff, her face slightly strained in frustration.

"Morgan! That is no way to talk about X. We shall leave X out of this conversation. It doesn't matter." Barked Madame Miranda. The disgust on Morgan's face wasn't hidden, yet Madame Miranda continued passing out the folders. The contents of mine sprawled itself across the oak table. Inside were some photos of a boy who looked a year or two older than us with with deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. Also in the folder were several papers, forms, and maps.

"This young man's name is Derek Thorton. He is eighteen and currently lives in Paris, France, though his is an American like you." I could hear Morgan mumble about how we shouldn't be killing our own citizen while Madame Miranda continued, "Here we have his criminal records although all records of his birth have either been lost or destroyed."

"His criminal record is... Blank." I stuttered. "He's innocent."

"He's innocent? Why are we out to kill an innocent man?" Blurted Morgan, the fire in her eyes sizzling.

"Morgan," scolded Madame Miranda. "Why we are killing him is none of our business, only X's."

" 'We' doesn't include you Madame Miranda! And it is our business! Disappearing, Inc. is the one killing him! Why did your parents even start this stupid program Claire!" Fired Morgan as she crossed her arms and stared me down, a deep frown spreading across her face.

It hurt. She blaming me for something I had no control of. My parents wanted to teach new spies, not harm innocent people. I hope. I don't even know what they had in mind. I doubt they even know X. What if they are X! They can't be X. They told me they weren't. They aren't. But still, now Morgan has me mad. Now everyone was in danger because of my wild temper.

"This is so stupid!" I shrieked, flinging my arms into the air. "Madame Miranda, you're no better than X! Why do we have to do this?" I pounded my fists back onto tge table, shattering some of the glasses. I could feel Madame Miranda cringe as the fragments covered the dark oak like a deadly tablecloth. Why do I do this? I don't mean for people to get hurt, but they do. I screamed and ran for the only place I had to myself, the library. I have no true love for reading, but it is quiet, and happy silence is the only thing that calms me down.

I looked down a my fists through my tear-streaked eyes. I flexed my fingers and out came a crumpled picture of Derek Thorton. I examined it more closely.

Part of me was screaming, Poor Derek! It's your fault too Claire! It's your fault Derek is going to die! But somewhere deep inside, something stirred.

I knew him.

I knew him but from where?