This Is What We Trained For

A while back, my life was normal. I went to school, had a family... That was until about a year ago. Everything, for me, changed.
The Government discovered that certain people were better at reconnaissance and intel than others. These people were blessed with a certain disability, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. ADHD for short. ADD people too, after all, it was the same disorder, only without Hyperactivity.
For the sake of the country, The Government began to integrate children and teenagers with ADHD and ADD into a special program, fit just for reconnaissance and intel taking.
Exactly ten months and twenty nine days ago, I was integrated into this program.
I now understand why.

Part 1 - The Program

Lesson One - Try not to make a sound...

I remember it almost clearly. A soft, velvety voice whispering into my ear, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck raising in fear. "What do you hear...?"
Everything, if you would shut up.... But biting back the response, I began to listen. Glasses clinking joyously, loud and happy laughter, conversation all around. Someone had just gotten married, a grandfather passed away, a child was born, '... Nice party, and fine wine too. I need to find wine as fine as this... I do have an old w....', and, the sound I was looking for. A quiet, almost whispering noise.
"Collect the Jewels... Yes top floor room, penthouse suite 116... Bomb? Hidden... Basement... Boiler.... You know...? Good...."
They had brought me here to chase a crook suspected of several bombing and several robberies. And I had found him.
"Second last from the far right on the table. His lackeys are beside him. Bomb is in the basement, by a boiler. Check the penthouse suite room 116. Someone is probably up there."
A pat on my shoulder was issued before two men left, each on one side of me. One was my supervisor, a man about twenty four, only seven years older than I. A reconnaissance agent will always have a supervisor, and I was lucky to have mine. He stood about six feet, tall and skinny, dark brown hair and eyes. He was kind, and treated me like his daughter instead of reconnaissance agent. He knew I was still just a kid. He went upstairs and the other man, a co-agent, much smaller and less threatening than my supervisor, went to diffuse the bomb.
Needless to say, my first mission was a success.

A lot of the new students to the program ask me what the best lesson I learnt was. I always say 'To remember to keep quiet.' Some of the younger kids ask why. To that, I say, 'Because you're there for recon. Never try to be a hero.'
There was an unbelievable amount of truth in that, and I learnt it the hard way. On my third or fourth mission I spoke up directly to a crook I heard whispering. That was the biggest mistake I could ever had made. He shot me in the stomach, and we blew the mission. My supervisor said I should be glad to be alive. I still have a wound there, reminding me to always keep quiet.
Now though, I have done at least twenty missions in almost a year, and every time they start using me for more and more complicated things. They told me that I was one of their best recon and intel agents. I wasn't surprised. I always was able to do that. I didn't understand until I was about twelve that I could only do that because I was special, that ADHD was a rare disorder. Only people like me could hear every single conversation in a room and understand where it came from. That was exactly why The Government was using us. We were useful.
My parents were anything but thrilled about the whole thing. My mother especially hated the program with all of her being. She was always worrying about me, calling me and checking up. Visiting me whenever I was in the hospital, which had only happened to me twice now. When I was shot in the stomach and the back of my leg. She and my supervisor have talked several times, especially while I'm at the hospital. Considering my supervisor isn't able to do anything until I'm well, he spends his time in the hospital with me. It made me happy to know I wasn't just his intel officer, but his friend.

That's enough about that, then. Skip ahead about a year. Its the end of the school day, and I'm waving goodbye to my friends. Of course, none of them know what I do after school - besides basketball, which I surprisingly still have time for - it makes them venerable for attack and kidnapping if our enemies find out who they are and what they know. There's only one person in the whole school who knows who I am, and that's my adopted sister, Legacy. She's been living with me for a while now, but I've known her for ten years now. The Government makes sure to let the families know. So, my mom, step dad, sisters and dad know about this. Not a single one of them liked it. I can't exactly say I like it either....
My bluish green eyes had found what they were looking for. A black car with tainted windows. It was my supervisor's car. He always came to pick me up after school and take me... Well I'm not quite sure where he takes me. I just know it's where we do all of our training and where all of the officers research and work.
"Afternoon, sir," I said happily. Actually, the 'sir' was just a joke. I knew exactly what he would say, he would-
"Celeste, how many times have I told you? It's not 'sir' or 'mister' or 'agent'. It's just Andrew," my supervisor said, a grin on his face.
"Wow, mister. A new record today. I didn't even finish my thought and you were scolding me," I said, joking back at my supervisor. It was sort of a game we played, a strange, twisted game.
"Enough of that. Have you taken your medication today?" my supervisor asked.
"Just for you, sir, no. Though I think I failed a test, you jerk," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Well it's your fault for taking IB in the first place!" he told me, sounding completely joking about it. There was a reason we had that conversation though. Before I was drafted into the program, I took - and still do - Concerta for my ADHD. the thing is, though, it makes me think normally. In other words, I can't do any training or spy missions with it. At the same time, I have to take it for school. I'm in a prestigious high school program, the IB or International Baccalaureate program. It's a really intense high school program for children of high intelligence and concentration. Without Concerta, I wouldn't be able to take the program. My supervisor is always trying to make me drop out of the program because I'm such a good agent, but I always refuse.
"Celeste! You're in dream land again," I heard my supervisor shout. He did that often, because I daydreamed often.
"Sorry sir," I said, grinning.
"I'm serious this time. This is where you stop looking," Andrew told me, gazing over at me. I gazed out the window. It certainly was. With a small and reluctant sigh, I closed my eyes. Only a certain few people were blessed with the knowledge on the location of The Government base. I was not one of those people. At a certain point in the journey, I had to stop watching. The first time they took me to base, they put a sack on my head and tied me up. I can sort of understand why, but that was a little too far. Once they trusted me enough, I could just close my eyes. I had to stop talking to my supervisor too. That I really didn't understand. I could talk with my eyes closed! Not even Andrew knows why, that or he just won't tell me. There were a lot of things that Andrew wouldn't tell me, or wasn't allowed to tell me. Although, he was much higher up that me. The recon agents were the lowest in the pecking order. We don't get told anything. Our supervisor's are experienced and old agents. Andrew was one of the youngest agents to become a supervisor. He quickly proved himself to be a fast learner and became one of the best and most trusted agents in a little over half a year. That's why the higher ups paired us together. I also became one of the best reconnaissance artists in a little over five months. Together, we were unstoppable.

Before I knew it, someone was shaking my shoulder.
"Celeste, you did it again. Celeste wake up," I heard being called. Drowsily, I blinked open my ocean coloured eyes. My short-in-the-back-long-in-the-front brownish blonde hair was in my face. I let out a small, protesting groan and pushed my hair away from my face.
"How much sleep did you get last night?"
"Five hours."
"Nightmares?"
I shook my head. It was my supervisor talking to me, checking up on me as usual. I suffered from insomnia due to reoccurring nightmares, and usually got about five hours of sleep on average. I sometimes fall asleep during random parts of the day, like just now. My daytime naps didn't crossover into REM sleep, so no dreaming.
"You know already, Andrew," I told my supervisor, sitting up properly. I only ever really called him by his real name when I was being serious. And now was as serious as ever.
"Well come on. We have a briefing to attend," Andrew informed me, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it graciously, and he helped me up before leading me through the magnificent building I called my base.

When you think a base built for spies, you probably think silver. Metal, automatic doors made of titanium, strong floors that clicked when you walked... I guess you're half right. The base was well protected, a few feet underground - I knew that much - with walls made of strong, foot thick iron. Different rooms built for training, some looking like party scenarios, others built like dojo's for fighting. Then, the briefing room. Thats where missions and potential threats are discussed and dealt with. That was also where Andrew was leading me now.
The moment we entered the room, our commander said, "Afternoon Agent Red, Special Recon Agent Harris." Our commander ruled the whole thing. He was the boss, the person The Government had set up to uphold the programs here, and to ensure they remained hidden. He called me 'Special Recon Agent Harris' because that's what I was. I was part of the special Recon program, and so all recon agents part of that program get introduced that way.
"Greetings," I said, sitting in my chair that I always did for briefing, my supervisor sitting next to me. Andrew gave me a reassuring nod become the commander began his briefing.
"Lately, we've noticed that quiet a few extreme bombing have been taking place across the nation. Now, we've managed to take in a few of the perpetrators and have been linking it all back to one person in particular," the commander began. He turned to the giant screen, where an image of a man appeared. He looked older, late forties maybe. He was tanned, with a black goatee. Deep brown eyes, and he was bald. He looked muscular and tall. "His name is Benjamin Stevenson. People have also called him 'Dynamite', a fitting name for an ingenious bombing artist. Now, I have called you two in here especially because you are my best agents. We know where his next target will be," the commander continued, pausing as a knew image appeared on the screen. It was a picture of- "The White House. 'Dynamite' is aiming for the President of the United States."

Lesson Two - This is what we train for.

"The What??" I said, jumping out of my seat and slamming my hands against the table. "We have to stop him!" I then almost shouted. "Sit, special Recon Agent," The commander told me. Andrew grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into my seat. "I know we have to stop it. You two are going to stop it," the commander said. He threw two tickets to a gala in front of us. "Now, there's a Gala being held at the White House for those special enough to attend. With believe Dynamite found himself a ticket, and we have found you two tickets. Your mission is to get into the building and stop Dynamite before he sets the whole place on fire. Now, there will be two co-agents join you, Agent Red," The commander said. I almost sighed out loud. Of course there would be. A reconnaissance agent didn't count as an agent. So, others would have to join us. I was just there to find Dynamite, not catch him.

"Andrew, this dress is too tight! And uncomfortable! And these shoes are high heels! I can't walk in these!" I protested to Andrew. As it turned out, the big party was that very night. They already had a dress ready for me. It had one strap, and a split up one side. It was a lovely silk red dress, but I didn't like dresses. They dressed me in silver high heels too. How was I supposed to do anything in these?
"You're overreacting. As usual..." Andrews voice sounded as he appeared in the doorway, wearing a black tuxedo. "You look lovely, Celeste, now let's go," Andrew said in a rushed voice. Two other agents were behind him, Agent Crescent, a pale woman with jet black hair held back in a bun. She wore a lovely light blue gown. The other was Agent Edwards, wearing a tuxedo similar to Andrews.
"Alright, everyone. Let's go," my supervisor said, leading us all out towards his car.

"M'lady," Andrew said, in a soft and sweet voice as he held out his hand for my taking.
"The sweet boy act doesn't look good on you, sir," I informed Andrew in a quiet voice, making sure only he could hear my remark.
"And I always thought you were telling me to be me more of a class act, M'lady..." Andrew retaliated cleverly. I had taken his arm and he was now escorting me inside. We were posing as party guests, obviously, and Andrew was my date, bile agent Crescent and Agent Edwards posed as each others dates. Andrew suddenly leaned over, and whispered in my ear, in his - well, what I liked to call 'mission voice' - soft, velvety, smooth and calm, all at the same time. Almost inaudible, pitched just right that only I could hear him. To others, the whisperings looked romantic. To me, they were just orders.
"Locate Dynamite, his lackeys, and his bomb. Remember... Try not to make a sound," he whispered. As per usual, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck raised with something I could almost call excitement.
"Yes sir," I whispered back in his ear, softly, smoothly. I probably looked a bit more sensual than he did, but it wasn't like I would ever go for someone like Andrew. "Stay close by," I said to him, more out loud this time, letting go of his arm now that we were inside. I didn't usually separate myself from Andrew during missions, but there were times, occasional times, when the situation demanded it. Like now, when it was louder than usual and I needed a quiet place to think and listen. I found myself one, sitting down on a couch and closing my bluish green eyes. Once I had done that, I heard everything. The usual recent news, deaths, births, marriages, the fine party, how beautiful the hall was... But I couldn't hear whisperings about any bombs...-
"Sleeping...party...miss...?"
I opened my eyes, hearing a voice and someone sitting next to me on the couch. I turned towards him, half wishing I didn't. There, with his ark extended, a glass of champagne in his hand - clearly for me - sat a bald headed man. The same bald headed man I was looking for.
Dynamite.

"Hm? I apologize, I didn't catch that, mister...?" I said, trying to act cool, taking the champagne. Obviously he couldn't tell that I was only seventeen. That I was not an adult here at the party. He was obviously some.... Older man who liked younger women... Sickening.
"Mister Stevenson. Benjamin, to you though, miss...?" Dynamite introduced himself, using his real name, which surprised me.
"Miss Andrews," I said, coming up with a name off the top of my head.
-"Andrews, hey? Celeste get out of there! You're not a hero, okay, just a reconnaissance artist!"- I heard buzzing in my ear. It was Andrew, talking into the earpieces we have. I pretended to fix a strand of my hair, bumping my ear and causing some interference to tell him I wasn't going anywhere.
"And does miss Andrews have a first name?" Dynamite asked, raising his own glass of alcohol.
"Maybe. You'll just have to figure that out along the way," I said, taking a sip of my drink and gazing at him with a devious grin on my face.
"Well then, Miss Andrews. Care for a walk? We could better understand each other," Dynamite offered to me, not taking his eyes away for a second.
-"Say no!"-
"Why, I hoped you'd never ask, Mister Stevenson," I replied, just to piss Andrew off. I stood, giving Dynamite a sly smirk. He stood too, and offered me his arm. I took it graciously, and we started to walk. When I passed by Andrew, I gave him a wink and a disobedient grin.
-"Celeste Allysa Harris!! This isn't a game! This isn't time to prove me wrong. You're going to get yourself killed in there!! Just let go of your silly heroic ideas, and..."- That was about where Andrew realized I was talking to Dynamite about art as we wandered around the hall. I wasn't sure where he was taking me, just somewhere alone, there I could get answers.

It wasn't until I had m back pressed against a wall with a huge man looming over me when I realized I probably should have trusted Andrew... Dynamite had caught me completely off guard.
"Help," I said into my earpiece, sounding frantic.
"Andrews? I know you. I've seen you before. You're specially reconnaissance agent Celeste Allysa Harris. The best, they say. Strange, because you're stupider than I thought. I guess this is where your career ends, Special Reconnaissance Agent Harris..." Dynamite said, his finger curling around my exposed throat. I felt my breath cut off, and I grasped for his fingers, trying to loosen them. "And...drew..." I choked out, feeling fainter and fainter. I was sure i was going to die, here and now. I was right about to pass out when the pressure lifted. Dynamite shouted in pain. I heard a gunshot. Was it a gunshot? I wasn't quiet sure. I fell to the ground, the world fading and blurry.
"Where's the bomb, Dynamite?" Agent Crescent shouted. Or it could have been Andrew... No, because Andrew was with me now, lifting me into his arms, looking worried.
"I told you...."

Lesson Three - The usual trips

"Useless..."
"It's your fault..."
"You're useless..."
"Always will be..."
"Your fault!"
"What have you done...."

Beep.... "Hmm...?" Beep. Beep. Beep.... I reached up and put my hand on my aching forehead. I knew that annoying beeping noise. "Really Andrew? Hospitalized again...?" I said quietly, sitting up in the bed.
"Yes. Again," Andrew said back. "Celeste, what were you thinking?" He said, placing his hand on mine. "I tell you time and time again. You're not a hero. You're not an Agent. You're a Reconnaissance Agent. That doesn't mean you can front as the hero. We almost failed that mission last night. You could have died, if you hadn't managed to call for help. Celeste... I can't afford to lose you. You're the best we have..." Andrew said. That's when he reached out and hugged me, pulling me into his arms tightly. "You're my best friend, Celeste," Andrew told me. I felt my lip quiver, discovering the stupidity in what I had done.
"Andrew I'm so sorry..." I whispered to him, hugging him back tightly, on the brink of tears. I buried my face into his shoulder, content there for a moment. One of my hands slipped from Andrew and went to my stomach, tracing over the fateful gunshot wound. My mind traced back to the 'heroic' things I had tried to do. And then, I suddenly had an idea. A fantastic idea.
"Andrew.... Teach me to be a real Agent!"

Andrew looked at me, looking almost confused.
"I'm serious Andrew! Teach me!" I said excitedly, grasping his shirt tightly.
"Celeste..." Andrew said, looking as if he was about to reject the idea automatically.
"Please Andrew? I promise I'll be the best apprentice ever!! No speaking up or anything! Just give me this chance, please," I pleaded him, shaking his shoulders lightly in wanting. "I really want to be like you, Andrew. I want to be a real agent," I said, a pleading look in my ocean coloured eyes.
"I know kiddo... Fine. You and I can train you to be a real agent. I'll teach you everything I know. And one day, you can be my real partner."

I was released from the hospital the day after that, and my mother was there to take me home. I told her no, that I had to go to training, and she almost lost it. Not in the angry sense, but the sense that she was panicking. She hugged me four about five minutes, told me she loved me, and sent me on my way.
I had a new mission now. I had to become a real agent!

Part two - Your New Mission

Lesson four - Training.

"Killed you. Killed you. Killed you."
I'm pretty sure that was the phrase I heard the most on our first training day. First thing Andrew was doing was teaching me to fight. It was the most important thing, considering I already knew how to go undercover.
But I wasn't very good at fighting, apparently. I kept plowing to him... That was, until I got fed up and started to go into my blind rage. Andrew had absolutely no chance with me there. I don't think it's just me who does this, but ADHD kids have this... Weird trait. We're completely happy and childish... Until you piss us off, then we're machines made for killing. Andrew learned that long ago, when I randomly raged on him because I was having a bad day.
My fighting rage left Andrew on the ground on his back, in a few easy moves. Afterwards, I rushed over, realizing what I just did. Andrew was alright, just had the breath knocked out of him. I knelt next to him, poking his forehead lightly.
"Okay, good... This time, try not to actually kill me..." Andrew said, rubbing his forehead lightly.
"Sorry...." I said, reaching out and helping Andrew up. He ended up just smiling at me.
"You're very powerful when you're angry. You need to learn to use that energy without getting angry, or you'll die before then," Andrew told me, looking thoughtful. I nodded in understanding. Andrew had set up a dummy for me to practice on, so I started to practice on it, channeling the energy I had when I was angry, only this time I wasn't. It was a difficult feat to accomplish, but I knew I was powerful. I was so busy concentrating and thinking, that I forgot how much power I was putting into this exorcise. I accidentally broke the dummy.
"Well Celeste..." Andrew said, looking at the destroyed dummy. "Good job," he said, patting my head and ruffling my hair lightly.
"Andrew..." I almost whined, gazing up at him with a somewhat angry look. Andrew just smiled at me.
"You're shaping up well."

Andrew and I trained like that for weeks. For months. For a very, very long time. We had the occasional mission here and there, but none where I tried out my new moves. Andrew and I needed to do a bit more before I could actually do something out in the field. My birthday passed, i turned eighteen. A legal adult, at last. I had a small party, and all of my family came. Even Andrew. After the party and my day though, it was back to training. I could believe we were training this much. It was very tedious. But one day, it came. One day, it was my turn to be the hero.