Author's Note: I do not own any rights to Kingsman or it's characters, only those that I have created.

With this being my first story to post I ask that you leave a review as to what you think. I plan on posting twice a week on Wednesday and Thursday. I hope you all enjoy!

Kentucky had been unseasonably warming this past winter and April was becoming a true test of the coming summer months. Claire Henry was making her way through the maze of buildings housing barrels of liquor, fanning herself with a clipboard. She finally caved as a tour group approached. She smiled and stepped aside, slipped the clipboard between her knees and worked to pull her hair into a high ponytail. She readjusted her glasses as she pulled small strands to frame around her face. Happy with the breeze now cooling her neck she continued to her office.

Claire had been recruited by the secret agency known as Statesman only a year ago. She had worked within their logistics department for a short period of time when she had been brought into the higher circle. Statesman's former tech specialist, Ginger Ale, had been promoted to Agent Whiskey. She was the one who had chosen Claire to fill her position. She only assumed that her supervisor had sent his recommendation to her and Champagne (or 'Champ' as he liked to be called). Claire considered it to be a privilege and an honor to be working with them.

As she stepped in the whiskey bottle shaped building that housed headquarters and her office area Claire was greeted by a familiar face. She smiled at the thin women sashaying her way through the lobby. Claire greeted her, "Whiskey."

"Ginger," the other woman handed her a small envelope and turned to follow along side, "these photos were taken this morning in Dallas. We think they're linked into the latest Statesman attacks." Claire's brow furrowed as she nodded. She didn't dare to open the file until they were secure inside her office. Three Statesman agents had been recently attacked, two of which killed, and all appeared to be unrelated. Champ had made it her top priority to figure out if they were dealing with separate individuals or a large group.

Claire approached her office door and placed her right palm over the key pad allowing it to analyze her prints. The door slid open as she and Whiskey stepped inside. Claire walked around her desk and stood to lay the photos out before her. Whiskey used a handheld touchpad to display an electronic file on the screen across from the desk. Claire gazed at the photos of the agents' wounds, all had different markings. She looked up to the screen displaying the medical examiner and autopsy reports. Gunshot wounds, stabbings, and the most recent fatality was caused by a broken neck. Claire shook her head.

"Out of all the attacks we only have one viable source of intel." Whiskey typed on the pad again to bring up a video shot of the last agent, Tequila. "Tequila sent us this. It was shot from a local convenient store across from the alley way where he was attacked." Claire watched as Tequila made his way out of the Dallas branch and no sooner does he turn the corner he's ambushed and drug into the alleyway. The camera footage is too blurry to make out what happens within the alley, but after a brief moment you see Tequila stumble out and other agents exiting the building to assist him. The suspects had managed to escape somehow before they could be apprehended.

"Was he injured?" She asked.

Whiskey nodded her head, her soft curls bouncing around her jawline. "Bruised ribs, slight head wound, possible fracture to the right clavicle and a puncture to the right bicep. Nothing substantial."

"It doesn't make sense," Claire whispered to herself. She looked down to the photos taken of Tequila's wounds. They were knife wounds, but they were not like any she had seen before. She brought the photo closer to examine, shaking her head. "Has Tequila returned for debriefing?" She asked.

"He's in route now. ETA 3pm." Whiskey answered. Claire glanced at the watch on her wrist, about an hour from now.

"Can I get a copy of that report when you're finished?" Whiskey nodded. "I'll see if I can enhance the surveillance footage from the convenience store and attempt to do facial recognition. I can't promise I'll find anything. I'll run a manual scan once I get Tequila's report in."

Whiskey nodded as she began typing once again on the pad. "I'm sending you the case files of the other agents along with their medical and autopsy reports. Call me if you find anything."

"Yes ma'am." Claire suddenly thought of something, "Whiskey, have these attacks been contained within the American branches?"

Understanding Claire's question, the other women simply sighed, "We've had no reports from Kingsman as of yet. They're still finalizing their agent selections." Claire nodded.

After Poppy's attack on Kingsman last year their senior agent, Galahad, stepped into the position as their newest leader, Arthur. She had been kept mostly out of the loop of conversation in the aftermath, knowing full well that her clearance did not allow her to have details into their stance. Champ had made it clear that he and the other Agents were the only ones to have contact with their sister agency unless told otherwise. She left it at that.

"It's just strange that Statesman is the only agency affected."

"If there are any reports or developments Champ will fill you in. Until then just concentrate on our agents. Okay?"

Claire nodded. She watched as Agent Whiskey exited her office. The case files and debriefings popped up on the screen and she walked around her desk to read over them. She began chewing on a pen cap as her brain analyzed the individual reports. She rested her bum against the edge of the desk and crossed her arms, continuously chewing the pen and mumbling to herself.

"Dallas…Tequila…hanging…precision wounds." Nothing made sense. She almost wondered if these attacks were synchronized somehow. She removed her computer glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes closed as she wracked her brain. She continued to repeat the same words over and over in attempt to make sense of everything.

She glanced at her watch and sighed, with very few leads and no facial recognition to go off she was going to need some assistance. That assistance came in the form of Folgers and Bailey's. She pulled out the touch screen pad she had stashed away in her drawers to finish reading through the reports as she made her way to the cafeteria.