Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
(Site B25, United States. 8/13/21)
Elise Brockton
"Secrets, Destruction, Murder, and Worry are the four main things that this profession with throw at you. Now some of you are only here because you were rejected from the FBI, or the CIA. I get it. But this force is even more intense than both of those agencies combined. You will be serving not just your country, but your country's morals, freedoms, and general well-being. Here. It will never be easy, but it is honorable as hell." He slammed the champagne bottle on the smooth concrete floor below. The hissing sound of the fizz filling the room as cheers erupt from the crowd surrounding him. 
"This is it, May!" My best friend, June 5th, or June, punches me playfully on the shoulder as he turns to look at me. He's at least four or five inches taller than me but I could still take him down right then and there. "We finally get to learn each others real names,"
The rule during Hell Week (which was more like Hell Month but I digress) was that we weren't allowed to use our real names. Ever. Nor were we allowed to tell other contestants (that's what we were called for some reason) major personal details. This was so, in case people failed the test of Hell Week or were disqualified for other reasons, they couldn't leave and go to the media or some shit like that. "Total privacy is required for our work." I still remember The Director saying. 
"Oh my gosh, yes!" I turn to June and let out something close to a squeal. "I bet you have like a surfer name California boy, like something like Clayton or Jace." I liked to call him California boy because he's from California and I'm from Texas, there's sort of an unspoken rivalry between the two states. 
"Ok," He looks visibly disgusted, he adjusts his posture a bit, shifting back and forth on his feet, left and right. "Well I bet your name is like Rose or Alexandra."
"Fine! Rose is a cute name and Alex is a badass name for a woman,"
"Damn it. Well... I didn't say Alex, you have to go by Alexandra,"
"I don't have to do anything," I snap back. Five-starring him on the back. I meant it as a joke slap but from the harsh sound it made, it likely hurt like hell.
"Ow, May! Too far!" He walks away rubbing his back with his hand. 
I look down to the floor in shame. Damnit! I took it too far. I think. My other friend, who I would hardly call a friend since I don't know her that well, August, walks over to me. "Aren't you glad to graduate?" 
"We're not graduating yet." I mumble in a really quiet but still angry voice. I really can't stand August sometimes, she always tries to socialize with me at the worst times possible. 
"Oh... Yeah. Um. Silly me. But I meant graduating from Hell Week-" She's pausing and gasps. "I shouldn't say that word," 
"I don't mind," 
"Hell is not a describing word, only a place that should not be joked about!" She looks visibly upset at her mild swear. 
"Can't it be both?"
"No, it can't be both!" She gasps. "Using Hell as a describing word denounces the significance of Hell as a place, if you get damned, you will experience an eternity of unending suffering!
"Okay," I turn and start to walk away from her. August is very nice and all but right now my fuse had already been charred by June, and I really would hate to lash out at such a sweet girl as August. 
I never even understood why August signed up for the NAIA (often called North by The Director). First of all, she's always talking about thou shall not kill and the other Commandments, which makes no sense for a field that involves a lot of killing. Also, she's afraid of blood and 'most guns' (her words not mine). 
"Hey May 23rd!" I turn around and stop my fast pace towards the staircase that leads towards the dorms. It's The Director.
"Yeah?" 
"I personally want to say I am so satisfied and impressed by your performance in Hell Week."
"Yeah? Go on."
"Well..." He turns his head all directions to check that no one will hear. "I think we should talk in private."
***
After leading me through a locked door I had never been through before, one marked Off Limits Unless Platinum Badge, he led me into a conference room at the end of a exhaustingly long hallway and sat me down.
"Ok, Elise Brockton. I'm not a psychic I have your file." He said. I didn't think he was a psychic, so I'm guessing it was just a lousy joke. "You were our third best finisher overall this trial, our sixty-ith best finisher overall in agency history, and our fifth best woman finisher in agency history," He takes a deep breath. His facial expression seems flat and emotionless despite him listing my accomplishments. His voice is monotone and very deep. "Elise, you're a natural. Which is why I'm going to offer you something big. This opportunity is only going out to the top five top finishers,"
"What?"
"I'm going to offer you field work. Right away. Under Agent Rodriguez."