ab·er·ra·tion
ˌabəˈrāSH(ə)n/
noun
a departure from what is normal, usual, or expected, typically one that is unwelcome

Clandestine Agency Case File #two-seven-A-two-eight-V

Scenario: Multiple missing ancient Egyptian artifacts. Including but not limited to statues, sarcophagus, Anubis sculptures/shrine, precious metals from burial chamber. Transportation system breached on track to the Repertory Museum in Las Vegas, Nevada, artifacts not recovered. The two criminals remain unidentified due to faults in security tapes.

Evidence: Unknown. Confiscated at scene by Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Testimony: Single watchman. Sent into state of unconsciousness by unknown and undetected airborne gasses. No (zero) other fatalities.

Suspects: Undetermined.

From there on to the vacant rest of the paper, there was nothing. No leads, no crime scene sketches, no other locations. Nothing. It was like a death sentence just waiting to happen.

Although I did hear I'd been assigned a partner. I hoped they had some ideas and clues, some way to narrow it down to a couple suspects. The only one I could think up was Animosity and Virulent and their show being hosted in a couple days, a week maximum. They would surely be desperate to stock up on anything priceless and valuable, especially if we hadn't heard from them in a while. Usually every few days news would unintentionally be released regarding a spike in killings or something gruesome.

Animosity and Virulent popped up only when you would scroll to the sixteenth page of the search engine collecting information barely related to their alias names, yet everybody knew who they were. Their real identities were kept hidden, only revealed at their shows when they took off their masks and had everyone swear on their lives that their faces wouldn't leak to the public eye. It'd happened once and only once where a single picture was released, but the photos and websites were immediately shut down before anyone could access them, and half an hour later the body of Belligerent was found in an abandoned apartment after the local police received an anonymous tip regarding the criminal's location.

There was no for sure way to tell if it was them or not. Their patterns were choppy and often led to multiple unrelated heists to distract from their own. For a while we'd thought their process included tossing their victims ashore on a nearby beach for anyone to find, until a spell hit and every single person they'd been suspected to kill had been found in Texas, on an innocent rancher's plot of land in the middle of nowhere. Security cameras that'd been quickly set up would glitch for minutes at a time only to function steadily for the rest of the night with half of an unidentifiable body in plain sight.

And then the agent investigating was found across the country with no eyes and-

"Hey," Ryan popped his head through the door with a small smile "go through that case file yet?"

I nodded and he sat down, poking at the single sheet of paper I'd been given. "There isn't much, Ross. No leads, no footage, nothing."

He took the page and held it close to his face, scanning over the small print before sighing and handing it back. "Darn. I'd like to know what I was getting myself into. Y'know, first mission and all. I'm not even going out on the field field. It's like when you're painting something with someone and you just hand them the paint and watch. And they don't know what the fuck they're doing. That's now I feel right now."

"That's a very important job, then. Was that the only reason you stopped by? You are aware of the fact we're supposed to be at Prince's office in a couple minutes."

"I, uh, wanted to see if... I could help you, or vice versa if I tagged along for the mission? More the vice versa part because you're really good at this type of stuff-"

"Ross, I got this position a month ago after I followed a group of skilled killers on a hunch." I slammed the file shut and stood up, storming out of the room for him to follow. I hated talking about that stupid case.

He followed me all the way to the elevators and waited for the doors to shut and the button for the thirtieth floor to illuminate before saying another word. "It was a legendary case though and you came back-"

"I almost got killed-"

"But you didn't-"

"My partner got killed-"

"And you came back to tell the tale."

"It wasn't even that big of a case! It was simple and solved by a damn simple code I didn't even crack. Do you know how close I was to getting killed myself?" The doors slid open and again I stormed ahead of Ryan to the entrance of Prince's office. She was standing by her desk when we walked in, nodding along to the words of another person.

"Hey," Ryan bumped my side with his shoulder with a wink "that guy is pretty cute. Do you think he's your partner?"

He's correct about his looks, from what I can see. Dark hair swept back and falling to the side in crazy tufts, strong shoulders hidden under the required suit jacket, paired with smooth pants the same shade. I could see the corners of his lips move as he spoke, animated hands shifting in the pockets to his pants. Dusty black shoes were paired with gross neon green socks pulled up past his ankles, the color blurring when he turned as Diana Prince called both me and Ryan to attention.

She grinned softly and gestured with her hand to whoever the guy was. "How nice of you both to finally join us."

I checked the clock on the wall behind her desk. Ross and I were twelve minutes late.

I held up the case file she'd given me. "I was, er, trying to find any connections in the-"

"There wasn't much in there. Surely that wouldn't have taken twelve extra minutes." Prince's expression turned to mock confusion.

Ryan shrugged and snatched the file for himself. "Can't blame him. It's like two sentences long. Three, if you wanna include the title."

"So I guess I don't even need to see it if it's so vague?" The one Ryan had pointed out pursed his lips together, eyeing the folder with deep amber eyes swimming with curiosity. Curiosity was not a good thing in the line of work he'd been swept up in.

Diana Prince took her seat and waved to the three set out in front of the desk, one for each of us. "It's not a necessity, but if Weekes would like to fill you in on the way there you'll gain a decent understanding as to why this mission needs to be solved immediately."

Ryan's assumption proved to be correct. "So... he's my partner?"

She nodded and out of the corner of my eye I watched the guy smile and turn to me with his hand outstretched. I wasn't going to take it at first until Ryan bumped my side again.

"Weekes."

"Urie. You can just call me Brendon though-"

"Nice to meet you, Urie."

⋘⋙

I took one final glimpse of Oliver's file before sliding it into the 'Unsolved' folder in the case room. My first mission of sorts since being promoted to a higher position, down the drain without a chance. I knew someone else would have it assigned to them, maybe Pete since he was also working the case as a backup agent. Fittingly assigned too, considering I'd just been kicked off and reassigned.

Ryan and Brendon were standing in the hall behind me, waiting until I finished up so we could head to the gadgets section as a group. That was Ryan's suggestion. I didn't particularly want to pick out weapons of choice with someone I'd never met. What if Brendon - er, Urie - turned out to be a psychopath and picked out all the sharp things and explosives?

"Hey, Weekes," Ryan called from the doorway "what was Oliver's case about again? You never told me."

I turned around to see Urie watching the pipe bolted to the ceiling transport cylindrical packages across headquarters, Ryan frowning and watching the file I couldn't get back.

Brendon frowned. "Oliver? Like... Oliver Jones? The Oliver Jones that-""

"Oliver Jones," I purposely interrupted and shoved past him, allowing the door to hiss shut "multimillionaire famous for his HD flat screen televisions. He donated thousands to charities, gross amount counting out to millions up to his death. Oliver was found on the Convivial Cove beach this morning at about ten o'clock."

Ryan shuddered. "What happened to him?"

"Gutted. Torn to shreds. Dismembered. Dangling by pieces of flesh and washed up on the beach this morning. We have no clue who did it this time."

Brendon piped up again just as we all crammed together in the elevator and headed to the sixth floor to the weapons department. "Possible motives for anyone to participate in his death?"

"Inherited some minerals from his recently deceased cousin in Madagascar. Rich in general, lazy security, easy shot." I said, even if it was quite the opposite.

They both went silent for a minute. Understandably, of course. Ryan hadn't been exposed to murders yet for a reason. He was the driver. Brendon, I wasn't sure. He was the one that occupied my previous position, C-C before I moved to B-C, field agent status. Next for me was A-C, but then the current placeholder would have to bite the bullet for me to take the spot.

"So who do you suspect did it?"

The elevator door opened and they continued to follow behind me to the steel entrance whirring open upon sensing our arrival. "Animosity and Virulent is what Wentz has thought. The beach aspect of the body discovery was awfully similar to their methods of dumping dead people in the past. He's most likely right, considering-"

"Well, I do remember someone telling me that they've got a show later this week," Brendon interrupted, running over to a wall decorated with guns of various sizes as Ryan stayed behind me near the miscellaneous section "that must be why."

I'd never thought I could turn around so fast. "What? You know about their shows?"

He nodded, lightly tossing a handgun in his hand before shoving it into his backpack. "Everyone does. It's difficult to not know who The Mercenary Lovers are around here. Everything traces back to them in one way or another."

He wasn't wrong. The Eyes case, famed Uranium heist, etc - it al linked back to Animosity and Virulent in the long run. Somehow. They were everywhere, inescapable. We barely had any photos as to what they looked like; some claimed one constantly changed the color of their hair from light to dark, the other shaving it from time to time. A few pictures depicted them as women, another as a man and a woman.

Brendon picked up a watch by the buckle, wrapping it around his wrist. He smiled and flashed the initials B.U. on the side, indicating his possession. "They put my gadgets in here!"

I could practically hear Ryan's jaw drop just as he examined the same initials printed on to a pair of X-ray contact lenses. "You made these? No way!"

"I had to get to C-C somehow. Went from E-C right up after they put these to good use." He held up a pair of pitch black sunglasses, sticking his tongue out and waving them in the air. I was annoyed already - we were a professional agency for gods sake. "I heard Prince herself used them in a field mission. And Ruess, and a couple other people. I can't remember."

Ryan gasped and ran over to put them on, touching the dark frames and snapping his focus to various points in the room. "Woah! What does it do? Why are there so many numbers?"

Brendon carefully slid them off Ryan's face and tucked the curves behind his ears while the lenses settled on top of his fluff of hair. "They record visually and audibly for up to hours at a time, analyze possible outcomes of multiple situations entered at the touch of a button, and send videos back directly to the agency's database. I call them The Shades. Copyright pending."

My backpack was still stuffed from the previous field mission. I'd barely done anything, but I still prepared nevertheless, just like I'd been told. For emergencies that never happened.

"If you two are done messing around, I'd like to head out to Las Vegas while I'm still young." I said, Ryan perking up instantly and heading towards the exit to the vehicle sector of the facility.

"Well, Im ready," he emphasized, pointing to his chest "I'm not sure if Brendon is."

Brendon continued strapping different types of handguns to his stomach, screwing with the latches and the bullet cases that would stick to his chest.

"I'm sure Urie is ready." We watched for a couple seconds more as he attempted to disguise the protruding gun handle with his oversized sweatshirt, very unprofessional compared to my attire, even Ryan's simple dress shirt.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ready whenever you guys are." He smiled and squeezed in through the door behind Ryan and in front of me, leaving myself to lock the door and follow exit protocol instead of having the lower rank do it.

The mission had better be worth it.

[See remember when I said it picks up fast
Also I'm heading to another state tonight so I won't be on as much so have this I was gonna publish tomorrow & wait until someone dies in the upcoming chapters ig]