“But I have my life, I’m living it. It’s twisted, exhausting, uncertain, and full of guilt, but nonetheless, there’s something there.”
― Banana Yoshimoto, The Lake

“Dustfinger… nice of you to join us.” I squinted to see a man grinning from ear to ear like he had just won the lottery. “Second time this month and it’s just the 14^th,now that’s a new record even for a CIA agent.” he remarked. The ‘he’ here being CIA’s best surgeon, MH short for MagicHands.

"I can’t help the fact that the Mafia has more people joining them every day. It’s pathetic. Getting back to business.. What’s the damage this time?” I asked mentally hoping it’s not too bad but the IV’s and other wires attached to my arm spoke of a different story. A pair of broken ribs, a concussion and multiple knife wounds is what I had. Oh Joy. Just as the information sunk in something on the side table vibrated. 

I slowly turned to see ‘The Director’ flashing on my phone.  “You will not be allowed to leave to leave till you have completely healed, any attempts to escape like the past time will not be entertained. If you try any such things I will put you on Code Red.” the cold, emotionless vice almost barked. “Yes I understand.” I replied equally emotionlessly  even though I wanted to hurl something at him right now.

My work meant the world for me. I never thought I would be an agent someday but once I started going on missions I enjoyed the uncertainties, the thrill of putting everything on line at once, it’s like a new adventure all the time.  However Code Red was every agent’s nightmare, it meant indefinite hiatus and there was no way of knowing if the agent's services would be required again.  So I was stuck here on a hospital bed with only MH to keep me company for God knows how long before I got back to work. 

My life is like a twisted, more real and less y version of Charlie’s Angels except the fact that I am a ‘Rider’; meaning a solo agent and I worked for the CIA not for some voice from a speaker.  My training for the CIA lasted only 2 years since I was a ‘born natural’.

In those two years I learnt French, Spanish, Chinese, Korean, Japanese and Hindi. Tactical analysis, Strategic planning, Range shooting and Hand-to-hand combat were just a few of the many things I learnt to be an agent.  I’m actually A2605 but I was nicknamed as Dustfinger after I managed to finish my 7^th mission in the middle of now where in the Sahara desert inspite of a dust storm. 

The ironic part however is according to my family I’m just the average 18 year old pursuing Computers at NYU. I became an agent after I stopped a random shoot out at my High school by a psychopath.  I mean it was just a kick in the wrong place. 'Oh wait or should I said the right place?' I thought to myself.

In the middle of my mental ramblings MH came in to check on me. “How long do you think it’ll take me to heal?” I asked him knowing anything longer than a day will be too long but I just wanted to countdown to me getting back to work.  “Anything between 3 to 5 weeks.” he said nonchalantly. 

“Just what I needed.” I mumbled into the pillow. “I heard that and so here are a few Korean dramas, some  movies that you can watch since you need to rest." he smiled. I’m more of a music person than a drama person but I wasn’t about to tell him that.  It was a much appreciated sweet gesture from his part so I quietly mumbled a thank you to him.

I’m not great at expressing feelings you see, I'd rather express it through dance or the music I listen to. Another reason I’m an Agent- an emotionless puppet made to kill or as CIA puts it to protect the innocents and punish the evil.  I think I like the CIA version much better than my own.

A/N: Virtual cookies to anyone who can guess where I picked up the name 'Dustfinger' from!

Our beloved EXO will be making an appearance soon..

Kamshamida and Happy reading! (: *bows 90 degrees*