New Game - Part III

Agent 47 was not an emotional man. He knew better than to get attach to anyone and anything, but he did have his vices. His Silverballers were his most prized possessions and he spoiled them as much as he could with high grade polish and cleaners. Over the years, he also found that Diana and her happiness meant more to him than he could imagine. She had given him a second chance and a purpose in life when he thought there were none.

He was fine with it. He could deal with keeping them safe because after what happened to Diana's sister, they had taken extra precautions. They were tucked away in an undisclosed place where, theoretically, no one would be able to find them.

He was completely alright with having these select valuables in his life, but he never anticipated the redhead adversary who injected herself into his life. He never thought that she'd live long enough to damage him in a way that he didn't think possible.

When she was part of Syndicate, he had full intentions of ending her life. It was standard procedure for him. Infiltrate and take down anyone who knew about him to remain in the shadows. He hadn't thought of the possibility that she would turncoat and help him. The action caught him unaware and he accepted her in his mission to protect Katia.

He was even more surprised when Anya told him about what was requested of her after they were rid of Syndicate. She had no obligations to him, but perhaps she thought they were some sort of kindred spirit. He really couldn't be sure. All he knew was that after it was all over, she was still there.

She stayed with him as he relocated and accomplished mission after mission for Diana. He didn't mind the company. Whether someone was living with him or not didn't matter. It was all the same. He knew what he had to do and he did it well, but he soon realised that that wasn't always the case.

She made it a habit of taunting his rather quiet nature, assuming that he was sulking over the "princess." The more she teased him, the more he realised that perhaps he was in less control of his emotions as he'd like. Instead of losing to it, however, he took advantage of the lust that began to distract him from his work.

He had never explored this part of his instinct. It was so primal and unrefined. He had unleashed it on her, knowing full well that it'd put an end to her endless assumptions of him and Katia Van Dees. What he hadn't expected was the way she seemed to melt into him. Her typically dominant demeanor had dissolved into a submissive wanton.

This wasn't the first time he engaged in carnal pleasure, but the previous times were experiments. He wanted to understand what made men lose all their senses. It seemed so foolish - so unrealistic that something so simplistic could be the cause of entire civilisations to crumble. It wasn't until that moment did he realise what he was in for.

He had claimed her and now, he couldn't let her go. She managed to bury herself into somewhere he didn't think he possessed. The unfamiliar sensation left him crippled.

And although he fooled her with his cool and collected countenance, he wasn't able to fool Diana. She had heard his discomfort through the phone. He felt he was out of his elements and after numerous prodding, he finally conceded his concerns to her. Never did he think that he would be laughed at in such a manner. He didn't even bother listening to the rest of her reaction before hanging up. He didn't need this.

The next time she called, she was more serious. There was amusement in her voice that irked him, but there were truths to her words that made him begin to doubt himself. In all the years he'd lived, he had never felt as uncertain as he did now. And so, he took on as many missions as he could, hoping he'd be away long enough to eliminate the foreign emotions that raged within him.

He had been successful to a point, but every time he returned, they swept him back in a wave of emotions. He lived day by day, hoping that he was never going to succumb to her womanly wiles, but her very presence made it difficult to even sit still.

When she returned wounded that day, he nearly leapt to his feet and shook her silly for being so careless. It didn't help that she told him she hadn't been successful with her contract. Her target was still alive and very likely going to return for her. The problem intensified when the messages came through to her phone.

Had he been too confident? Too careless?

He had gotten out of so many critical situations and this should've been an easy escape. How had it gone so wrong? He thought through each action several times over, wondering where everything went downhill.

They had gotten out of the hotel smoothly and eliminated their threat quickly. It occurred to him that there could've been more men scattered further down and he was ready to take them on as needed. It would've been simple to do so. If he hadn't been thinking of all the ways she could've died, he would've heard the cock of the gun.

He would've been able to pull her out of harm's way and he should've been able to keep her safe.

But that didn't happen.

He saw her fall. Blood bloomed in her chest like a dark rose blooming in the winter. It was out of place. It was wrong.

Before he could catch her, another shot made him dodge to the side and he heard her fall heavily on to the pavement. His self preservation caused him to lose sight of her and when the gunshots ended, she was gone.

He had failed her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

After picking this story up again, I suddenly realised that I had switched POVs. If anyone is really bothered that Anya's side is all in first person, please tell me and I'll edit the previous two chapters. Otherwise, I will finish this little section in the next chapter or two in the same manner.