Bowman sat there as her superior paced up and down. "Are you out of damn mind, Special Agent Bowman!" He demanded, casting angry glances at him.
She took in a deep breath. "I was just following a lead—"
"'Just' my ass!" He snapped. "He could use this against us. Do you ever think anything beside that damn gun strapped to your hip?"
Bowman rose to her feet, unbridle rage burning her eyes. "You don't think he's up to something shady? That his little ghost op isn't back in business?" She snapped.
He leaned close, his nose nearly touching hers. "Don't make me fire you," he warned.
Bowman sat down, frustrated.
Her jaw was set firm. She was right, but here it didn't matter—they cared more about money then doing the right thing.
Maybe he had a point....
She clenched her hand into a fist.
Damn that Maximoff! She would catch him. She would cover whatever he's hiding, expose his operation, and this time, by God, he would be the on squirming under her interrogation.
"The FBI?" Jada exclaimed. The women were chilling in the pit, enjoying martinis and orange juice respectfully.
"Yes, the FBI," Ciema repeated, taking a sip of her juice. "That's...That's insane," Laila muttered.
"It's not really. It's to be expected," Ciema explained. She placed her glass down and adjusted herself in the couch. "To be spies, our records and files have been scrubbed."
"Scrubbed?" Laila emphasized, wide eyed. "As in nothing remains of us?"
"We no longer exist in the system," Ciema said blankly. "We're clean slates."
"Aw man," Jada sighed, leaning back in the soft couch. She allowed herself to be swallowed by the pillows. "I can't travel anymore?"
"You still can," Ciema assured her with a small smile. "Just a fake name. And a passport to match."
"How'd he even get time to do all this?" Laila muttered, annoyed.
"He's ultra rich, remember?" Jada said, grinning. "He could've developed a cure for uncurbable diseases, like cancer," Laila said, shaking her head. "But no....he'd rather waste his money doing this."
"I've told him the same things," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y chimed in, her familiar blue screen popping in above. "He never listens."
Meanwhile, Mr. Mace stepped out onto a secluded patio and closed the sliding door behind him. He walked over a neatly swept, carpeted spot near the edge of the property and set down a large metal tray. The fragrant aroma of roasted chicken with ginger and parsley.
"Варфоломей! Руфус!" He called. Almost instantly, two massive Cane Corsos bound into view from the shadows of the surrounding trees. Bartholomew came up to him first, wagging his tail happily. He had pricked ears and a white underbelly. He slowed to a stop and sniffed the food eagerly.
Rufus came up shortly after, tumbling onto his side. He was more of a fawn—brown fur with a black snout. His ears were pricked as well. A chunk of his ear was missing, a constant reminder of playtime going wrong.
Rufus got to his feet, tail low, and padded over to the tray. Then, without hesitation, he dug in.
Mr. Mace stood back, kneeling. "Xорошие мальчики," He smiled fondly.
He remained completely unaware that, the sliding door to the house had slightly slid open, and an uninvited guest had just stepped inside.
"So what does Mr. Maximoff do in his spare time?" Jada asked, idly twisting a brown lock of hair around her finger. "Does he go on dates or something?"
"Don't tell me you're interested in the guy," Laila scoffed.
"No. No..." Jada looked away, her cheeks a tint of red.
"I wouldn't say that b-but—" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y was cut off with static. Her face disappeared then re-appeared.
Jada and Laila sat up, their eyes glued above. Ciema narrowed her gaze and adjusts her spectacles.
"T.I.F.F.A.N.Y?" She said, standing to her feet.
"I...I can't...hear—"
Zap
The Ai closed off and the low hum of electricity vanished, leaving only silence. "Something's wrong," Ciema muttered, moving out of the pit. The others followed.
Exiting the room, they scurried down the hallway and found themselves in the living room. Jada spots Chi-Chi sprawled on her pink cushion, sleepily soundly. The Pomchi's chest rose and fell, her paw occasionally swatting at nothing.
Laila scoffed at the sight of the tiny dog while Jada chuckled. Ciema frowned, her focus turned to the shiny metal kettle on the counter.
She stepped forward, her eyes squinted at the reflection. Her breath caught. She stumbled back a step.
There was a ninja, clad in black. He brandished a katana.
And he was right behind Laila.
Ciema spun on her heel. A scream caught in her throat, her wide eyes flicker to Jada—
Jada, standing behind her, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Behind you!" Ciema whispered. Jada turned—just in time to see a katana raised above Laila's head.
She screamed, Laila spun around—and screamed too. The ninja lunged forward. Jada pushes Laila out of the way. The katana whistled through the air, missing her by an inch.
"Eat this!" Laila shouts, charging from the side. The ninja ducked. His sword hilt cracked against her forehead. Laila stumbled, dazed.
Jada recovered fast. She pivoted, aiming to slam her legs into his ribs. Blocked—his forearm met her ankle. He countered fast, thrusting the blade glinting as it headed towards her gut. Jada reacted instinctively, bending backwards in an impossible limbo-like arc. The blade sliced through air.
Laila roared and grabbed the ninja from behind, locking her arm around his neck. Jada hit the ground with a thud, breathless.
Ciema just stood there, frozen to the spot. Her eyes were wide. Mind reeling, unable to process the sudden, violent, intrusion.
The ninja, grunting for a while, regained his footing.
With sudden motion, he seizes Laila's arm and flipped her over his shoulder. She hit the ground with a loud slam.
The impact jolted Chi-Chi awake. She snorted, blinking in confusion—then perked up, tail wagging as her gaze lands on the strange figure in black, his familiar cologne unmistakable .
"Go!" Jada shouted, pointing at the door. "Get Mr. Mace, fella. Now!"
Chi-Chi tilted her head, whining, unsure.
Chi-Chi leapt off and scurried off—in the wrong direction—barking loudly, tail wagging. "I don't—she's going the wrong way," Laila groaned, rolling on her side.
Jada steps over Laila. "Sorry sugar," she apologizes sheepishly grinning. "Never mind me," Laila muttered. "Get him!"
Jada charges. The ninja barely had time to react before she tucked low and swept his legs from under him. He hit the floor, letting out a grunt.
In on fluid motion, Jada raised her leg, aiming to crush his head—but he rolled away, just in time. He rocked his body back, tucked his knees to his chest, and with a push of his hands, sprang to his feet.
He stood slowly, like he wanted the moment to sink in.
Ciema stumbled back, knocking over the kettle with a loud clang.
Her eyed darted over to...the sword!.
"Jada, the sword!" She pointed frantically.
Jada whipped around, spotted it and sprinted. She snatched it up, swinging it in a ready stance. "Ha!" She grinned. The ninja cocked his head to the side, unimpressed—the bolted straight at her.
Jada's confidence faltered. She took a step back—then turned and ran.
Ciema watched with bated breath as the ninja jumped onto the wall and—no joke—began to run across it.
He launched himself straight at Jada. Jada turned—just in time to catch his foot to her mouth. With a grunt, she hit the ground hard, the sword sliding across the floor.
Ciema's hands clenched into fists. She had to do something!
The ninja stalked towards Jada who groaned, dazed. He stood over her, which proved to be a mistake. Ciema sprang onto his back, throwing him off balance. He staggered as she clawed at his mask—then ripped it off with a good tug.
He growled, seizing her arm, and flipped her over her shoulder. Ciema bounced off the floor, missing Jada, and crashing into the wall with a thud, grunting.
She laid there was a painting tipped loose and smacked her on the head before clattering beside her.
The ninja pulled a smoke bomb from his belt and slammed it onto the ground.
Fwoosh!
Thick smoke exploded around him. Laila and Jada coughed, squinting through the haze as they slowly sat up. Ciema groaned and sat up too, blinking through the smoke—still gripping his mask in her fist.
Mr. Mace burst into the room, clutching Chi-Chit lightly in his arms.
"Did we win?" Jada muttered, eyes half lidded.
"Who was that guy?" Laila asked, staggering to her feet.
Ciema stared down at the mask, her eyes narrowed behind her spectacles. "Hey-o!" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y chimed in, her blue screen flickering to life overhead. The lights turned magically.
"T.I.F.F!" Jada shouted, lighting up.
"Sorry—I got hacked, " The Ai explained, distractedly scanning the room. "What happened?"
"I fought a ninja!" Jada grinned, proud.
Ciema, still catching her breath, glanced up. "Was this a test?" She asked, eyes sharp.
Mr. Mace turned to her intrigued. "How so?"
"T.I.F.F.A.N.Y shutting down, only to reboot perfectly? You getting hacked out of nowhere? And the fight wasn't exactly subtle." She stepped forward, the mask still clutched in her hand. "What were you really doing, Mr. Mace?"
Mr. Mace exhaled and gently set Chi-Chi down. Straightening, he nodded.
"You are correct, Ms. Fredrick," he said, calmly. "This was a test and you did...well."
"Well?" Laila scoffed. "My back hurts!"
"And that's why you're reward is a spa day," He said with a smile.
Laila and Jada turn to each other and squealed with joy, already forgetting the near death experience. Ciema just scoffed, frustration dissolving into disbelief.
"I thought we were going to die," she said, quieter.
Mr. Mace's expression softened. "I'm sorry."
Ciema held out the mask. "Here."
He raised his hand, a small small tugged his the corner of his lips, and shook his head. "Keep it. Consider it a souvenir."
A small smile tugged at Ciema's lips. She turned to see Jada and Laila already vanishing down the hallway, excitedly chattering. The Pomchi trotted behind, barking happily.
The door to his room swung open.
The ninja strolled inside, his movement fluid and graceful even as he began to peel off his black tactical gear piece by piece. Shadows from the dim light room, cloaked his face, hiding it from view. He carefully placed a high-tech grappling hook, its metallic surface gleaming faintly, on a nearby table.
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y blinked into existence, her bright smile quickly twisted into a frown. "Were you trying to get yourself killed, Jaiden?" She scolded, glaring.
Jaiden groaned, his joints popping audibly as he rolled his shoulders. The sound made T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. flinch, her cartoon eyes squeezed shut in disgust.
"They did good," he said, simply, already heading for the shower. "They deserve their reward."
Jaiden entered the bathroom. Hopping into the shower, he vanished into the steam. leaving the room in silence—save for the soft whir of T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. fading out, still frowning.