Sam felt his mouth go dry. “So what is this training for?”
“To weed out the mentally weak.”
Sam hung his head, looking at the floor. “I guess I’ve already failed it, then.”
“It’s normal to be reasonably nervous. Being nervous doesn’t make you weak. The key is to not let your nerves get the best of you. Some nervousness can be helpful in the field, actually. It can make you less reckless.”
Sam smiled ruefully. “Do you get nervous? During a mission?”
“Not anymore,” the agent said. “But I’m not a rookie. I’m not eighteen. I have a decade of experience to rely on.”
Sam lifted his gaze. “A decade? How old are you?” It was hard to pinpoint the bloke’s age. It could be anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five. But then again, men with Agent 11’s facial structure and bronzed complexion could look ridiculously good even in their forties. It was so fucking unfair.
“Classified,” the agent said.
Sam pouted. “You’re no fun.” He looked at the other man curiously. “So you aren’t gonna torture and interrogate me? What am I supposed to learn, then?”
“The only foolproof way to avoid torture and interrogation is to not get caught. That’s what I’ll teach you.”
Sam sat straighter, smiling widely in excitement. “Undercover training?”
Agent 11 returned his smile. “Yes. But I’m afraid it’s nowhere near as exciting as you think.”
Two hours later, Sam was inclined to agree. Undercover work sounded like a lot of work. Tedious, difficult work that involved a lot of studying and preparation.
“The key to being a good undercover agent is to know your cover so well that you can think and act like your cover without forcing it. A moment’s pause, a slight hesitation will get your cover blown.”
Curious, Sam said, “Has your cover ever been blown?”
Agent 11’s face went oddly still. “Yes.”
“Why? What did you do wrong?”
The agent didn’t reply immediately.
Sam started wondering if he had crossed some line when Agent 11 said quietly, “I was ordered to kill an innocent bystander, a pregnant woman who witnessed something she shouldn’t have. I couldn’t. I helped her escape.”
Sam frowned. “Well, you did the right thing.”
The agent’s face was blank. “It had taken me eleven months to infiltrate that sex trafficking ring. After my cover was blown, it took MI6 another two years to get another agent in.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Sam said, after some hesitation, “I don’t understand. You still did the right thing.”
“I’ve read the reports,” Agent 11 said, his normally rich voice sounding hollowed out. “There were children among those sex workers. The youngest kid was eight—the youngest surviving kid.” He looked Sam in the eye and smiled. “Still think I did the right thing?”
Sam stared at him, unable to form words. If Agent 11 hadn’t gotten his cover blown by saving that woman, he could have saved those children years earlier. Could have, would have…
“How do you do it?” Sam whispered. “How am I supposed to make decisions like that?” How do you live with that?
Agent 11’s lips thinned. “You think of the bigger picture. You compartmentalize. You do what you must. And most importantly, you don’t fuck up and get fucking sentimental when you shouldn’t.”
Sam bit the inside his cheek.
Agent 11 grabbed his jacket and slipped into it. “That’s enough for today. We have a pre-mission briefing tomorrow at eight. After that, we’ll have a week to perfect our covers.”
“Wait, what? My first mission is with you?”
The agent just nodded, something flickering in his eyes, before he headed out of the room.
“The answer to your question is yes, by the way,” he said, opening the door.
Sam frowned, confused. “What?”
“Orphans do make the best recruits.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter 4
The administrative floor was intimidatingly quiet, a stark contrast to the training center, which was always noisy and full of people. Sam normally didn’t have the clearance to be on that floor, but Claudia, the Chief’s secretary, had informed him that for the duration of this mission he would have the necessary clearance.
Despite that, Sam still felt like an impostor, painfully aware how young and inexperienced he was compared to everyone else in the briefing room. He found himself moving closer to Agent 11, the only person he knew.
“Sit,” the woman at the head of the table said.
Sam took the seat next to Agent 11, opposite the middle-aged man in glasses.
“Sam,” the woman said, forcing Sam to look at her, which he had been avoiding since entering the room. The woman’s piercing stare unnerved him a little. “I know you’re still a trainee and have a long way to go until you complete your training, but unfortunately, we have no available agents that fit the criteria for this mission so we have no choice but to send a trainee. I trust that you’ll do the job well. If you do, your training will be accelerated and you will be Agent Landon in less than two months.”