Lucy and Mark break up and go there separate ways, only to be brought back together in the worst imaginable situation.

Please comment literally anything you feel I should change :)


9. Mark, with the boss

Mark had decided on step two of his plan. He has to find out who Max was. He knew he had to find someone who knew everything, he knew just where to go. He walked up to the splintered door to the only office in the establishment. He knocked.

“Come in.” A cool voice called from inside. Mark turned the handle slowly. He knew this wouldn’t be the easiest meeting he ever had. Just a few feet away from him behind this door sat the most dangerous woman in the world. The head of Division Q.

“ Q.” He said simply, avoiding eye contact.

“Ah don’t call me that any more it’s out dated. I’m X now too, tell me, which one shall I pick. I cant vey well be QX, or XQ. It just sounds plain silly!”

The only way she could have become the leader of X was if she killed the old X. She killed the most skilled gunman in Europe. Mark looked up in astonishment.

For the firs time Mark had worked here he snatched a glance at what was controlling his life so vigorously. The embodiment of power as he knew it. And he recognised it.




 “What the Fuc-”

“You. Shut up.” Emma stood up and within the second had shut the door silently behind him cutting him off.

A complete silence fell on the room like a heavy black cloud before a storm. “Emma.” Mark whispered in a hoarse voice.

“You never say that name again in this building, understand?” Her voice had taken on a cold business like tone, and yet every word cut like a razor blade.

“You…” Mark was clearly trying to work this out in his head.

“Look Mark. It’s me. Yes. Well done. Right, thank God that’s over,” She took a sip from a glass of water on the desk she was leaning on, and wiped the condensation on her blood red skirt. “So, what the hell do you want?”

Mark was far from convinced this was over. Questions whirred through his head and he tried desperately to narrow them down like some kind of computer. He stood there silently. Mark managed to tear his attention from a particular spot on the wall he had been staring at for a few minutes now and looked towards Emma.

“I have a few questions.” The business like atmosphere of the room seemed to be rubbing off on him. Emma, who was now sitting back in her huge leather chair, simply rolled her eyes and nodded.


“Since that’s not really a question to answer I won’t. But from now I’ll give you 5 questions to try and get your little head round this. Okay?” She said patronisingly.


“Well it’s 4 now, hurry hurry”


She simply held up three fingers.

Mark took a deep breath.

“You killed X?”

“Ah yes, the old one, that is. Everyone said he was the best gunman, but you know what his fault is?” Mark clearly didn’t. “Well he bloody monologues. He’s there telling you why your division is so insignificant, and he really expects not to get shot? I thought someone should teach him some manners. But it’s a little late for that because I shot him right there on the spot.” She smiled. “But funny thing was his security can’t do a thing because you see now I’m X.” She looked up at Mark expectantly but it took him a little while to process that story.

“Okay. Right.” He paused, frowning uncertainly. “Who’s Max?”

“Max. Well he’s an agent from X, I think. You see I haven’t had much time to get to know everyone yet. Let me see…” She rummaged through her desk until she found a brown paper folder. “Neil- no, Sam- no... Max. Oh look here he is! Yes well of course, he’s the scarred up one!” She handed him an A7 print out of a man with a single scar from his eye to his lip. He thought maybe he recognised him…

“Where is Division X HQ?”

“Well now Mark, someone’s a little ahead of themselves, aren’t they? I mean that’s sort of confidential isn’t it? Tell me, why do you need to know” The room seemed to get a little colder.

“Well, I have, um, I have business there.”

“Mark dear, you work for Division Q, what could you possibly be doing in X?” For some reason Mark felt he couldn’t tell her. That she was hiding something.

“It’s Lucy. Where is Lucy?”

Emma seemed to tense. The silence seemed louder than ever.

“Mark. It seems you have asked all your questions.”

Slowly her lips rose into a senseless smile as she stood up to show Mark out.

As she began to shut the door she simply said, “If you so much as think my name in this building, I’ll personally string you up and make you my own private punch bag.”

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