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she turned up. I held her and felt the same mix of fear and power. . . followed by a sharp knee to the nuts. Sometimes I wish I was still a cleaner sleeping on my mate's sofa.
     
    As I drop the two dumbbells the double doors to the gym swing open. In walks Zara, my oh-so-serious colleague at The Agency. She's more than a colleague; she's the closest person in my life. Here at The Agency we have to keep things formal and professional at all times, and nobody is better at doing that than Zara.
    She nods hello as she walks onto the aerobic mat and begins stretching. Her shoulder length, choppy blonde hair is tied back into a small pony tail. She looks every bit the gym instructor in her lycra top but still wearing the designer glasses which she never removes. Zara is so smart you can see it even before she says anything. She oozes brainpower and self-confidence.
    From my hunched over position, I grip the edge of the weight bench and lower my body until I feel the burn in my triceps. I'm distracted by Zara, who has progressed from gentle stretching to full-out Taekwondo kicks. She's not to be messed with, both physically and mentally, and that's probably why she's still single. That, and life at The Agency. Zara steps onto the running machine and pops headphones into her ears. Clearly she doesn't want to be disturbed but the devious side of me decides to walk over for a chat.
    "How's it going?" I ask casually, leaning over the running machine rail.
    "Fine, Hart" she replies, not bothering to remove an ear plug.
    For some reason, she insists on calling me by my surname like some kind of Army General. Maybe it's her way of enforcing her rank. After all, she's a Field Agent. I'm seventeen, still in my first year here and yet to be given my own assignment. Zara is twenty-three years old ─ six years my senior. She doesn't look it, but boy does she act it. If people say I'm overly-friendly and too chatty, Zara is my antithesis. Much like our names in the alphabet, we're polar opposites.
    "Have you seen Agent Hunter today?" I ask, still trying to be casual.
    I haven't decided whether I'll talk to her about Hunter and his daughter just yet.
    "No," she replies, eyes fixed on the flat screen in front of her. "I thought you were working with him?"
    She increases the speedometer and moves from a fast walk to a jog. The treadmill gets louder and I'm forced to raise my voice.
    "I am. Well, I was. He asked me to meet him at an assignment location on Saturday night, but not to tell Director Blake. I did as he asked, but now I'm wondering whether I did the right thing."
    Zara picks up more speed and her legs pound the rotating track.
    "You can trust Hunter. You don't need to question him."
    Her reply is controlled without a hint of breathlessness, despite the pace of the running machine. Her cardio must be excellent. And I'm not at all surprised by her defensive stance. It's perfectly natural for her to side with Agent Hunter; he was Zara's mentor when she joined The Agency a few years ago. I wonder if Zara knows about his daughter? I'm about to ask when her mobile vibrates. It takes her three seconds to read the text message and slam the emergency stop button on the running machine.
    "Hart ─ we need to go, now."
    I throw my hands up in mock frustration.
    "For once, just once, can you call me Aaron?"
    For the first time today she looks straight at me. Her eyes are wide and I know she means business. I can feel that she means business.
    "It's Agent Hunter ─ he's in trouble."
    Her voice is filled with trepidation. Whatever it is, it feels like it's been coming, ever since the incident with his daughter on Saturday evening.
    "I'll grab a quick shower and change."
    "No time," says Zara, leaping off the treadmill. "I'm leaving right now; it's up to you whether you come with me or not."
    Zara lingers at the door for half a second before turning on her heels. She knows I'll follow immediately, and I do.

Chapter 5
     
    Monday 16 September