Left was so wrong.

Ten minutes after making up her mind and turning left, Anna was cursing so much it would have made a sailor's ears bleed. She whipped the motorcycle around as fast as she could and sped back the way she came.

Ten minutes chasing a dead end. Literally. Ten minutes wasted while Jessi's kidnappers got farther away. She wasn't cut out for this job. She knew that now, now more than ever as her target remained in danger. This wasn't her kind of thing. When she reached though, when she reached and killed all the men who took her target, that would be her kind of thing. But Anna knew she wasn't cut out for such spy work. It was blatant to her now, staring her in the face.

It took a whole of fifteen minutes for her to spot the same black car Jessi was taken away in. By that time she was a bottle of agitation, springing off her bike before it fully came a stop and practically sprinting over to the car. It was unbearably hot, searing under her palm as Anna skulked around to the windows. She peeked inside. No one.

Anna didn't know how much she was up against. She suspected two, more than likely three, since one person wouldn't be able to pull this off on his own. When she made it to the door of the abandoned, broken down warehouse however, Anna counted four men.

Rod in hand, she waited for an opening. The lights in the warehouse were busted, blackened and broken on the dirty, dusty ground below. Light spilled in from the cracked roof, shining down on Jessi who was tied up in a chair. The four men surrounded him, two holding pistols.

No silencer, she noticed. They knew no one was going to be around to hear them.

Anna licked her lips, anticipating the fight that was coming. She felt eager for it, almost excited.

That was before she saw Jessi's face. It was sporting a black and blue eye, slowly swelling itself shut, as if it was trying to block out the hurt it was receiving from the outside world. His left cheek was swollen too, blood running from a cut on the surface. From the way it looked, she knew it wasn't a cut from a knife or something sharp. Someone had hit him until his cheek busted open. Fists caused the wound. The very thought had her clenching her jaw in anger.

Now there was an emotion she didn't mind. She would take anger over fear any day.

"Still not going to talk, petite homme?" one of the men spoke. She recognized the accent instantly. He was French.

"I already told you," Jessi growled from his chair. He glared at the man who spoke, his voice dripping with angry venom. "I don't know anything."

"You expect me to believe that?" the same man asked. He leaned down and knocked the barrel of his gun in Jessi's temple, lightly, mockingly. "Come on, you're his son. You must know something. I know you're hiding it from me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The murderous look in Jessi's eyes did nothing to appease or scare the man. He eased up and scratched the barrel of the gun into his own temple with a sigh.

"You're testing me, garçon. Tell me what you know or this won't end pretty."

Jessi didn't say another word. He only glared until thy kingdom come.

The man sighed again. He motioned with his gun and the two men without guns stepped forward. Jessi tensed when the men raised their fists, ready to send it plowing into his skin. Anna saw that as her cue.

She whipped out her knife and threw. The knife embedded itself into the back of the man standing right before Jessi, his fist raised upwards. Everything froze for a moment while she stood there at the entrance, waiting for them to react. No one moved. All eyes were on the man who seemed to be taking forever to respond to the knife in his back.

Finally, he fell. All eyes descended on her.

Anna smirked behind her face mask. The man who had been speaking cocked his gun up to her, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Who the hell are you?" he asked warily.

She could tell he asked out of curiousity, since it would have been much easier to just shoot her. Not that she minded very much.

Wouldn't you like to know, she answered in her mind. Anna raised her hands, slowly reaching down to place her rod on the ground. Hands in the air, she surrendered without a word.

"I asked, who the hell you are?!"

She didn't reply. Anna stared at them patiently. She refused to look at Jessi, although she was positive he was just as baffled and curious as the rest of them. The man with the knife in his back laid as still as stone and her fingers itched to bring her knife back to its twin.

The man was getting angry now. He flicked his hand towards her, motioning to one of the others to come for her. He glared at her, his lips thinning out to a snarl.

One of the men approached her. Anna watched him come, his gun pointing towards her. He was snarling too; they all were actually. He grabbed her hand and pulled it behind her back. He pushed the gun into her neck and pushed her forward.

"Tie her up," the man in charge ordered. The remaining man ran off to fetch a spare rope. He re-approached them with the rope in hand and a chair dragging behind him.

Jessi's eyes were boring into her, wide. Anna caught them. She couldn't help herself. He looked like he had been struck by lightning, his eyes wide with shock. He stared her down and Anna, despite herself, winked.

Jessi blinked at her.

Just as the man reached them with the rope, Anna moved. She spun out of the arms of the man holding her and the first thing she made a grab for was his gun. The feel of cool metal beneath her fingers gave her control, her pointing the gun to her capturer even more so. Still, she said nothing, even as the man backed up in fear and surprised. The clever comment was swallowed.

"What the –!" The leader was quick to respond. He pointed his gun at her, his body tense. "Drop the gun," he ordered.

Anna just looked at him.

He inched forward. "If you know what's good for you, petite fille, I highly suggest you drop that gun right now."

Anna's eyes shifted back over to the man she was aiming at, almost lazily. He was stupid if he thought she was dropping the gun.

The man before her apparently was. He lunged after her, attempting to grab the gun from her hand. Anna sprang out of the way before ducking back in, grabbing the man's arm the same way he did hers and putting the gun to his neck. He was bigger than her, so she hid half her body behind his and pushed him forward, inching her way to the leader.

"D-don't shoot," the guy she held stuttered. She didn't reply.

Again, no one moved. They were locked in a battle of wills, their eyes the only weapons. They sized each other up, trying to spot weaknesses, chinks in their armors, a way to get in. Anna spotted one first.

Quick as lightning, she redirected the gun to the man with the rope and the chair. He dropped at the sound of the bullet echoing in the large warehouse and all eyes watched his descent to the ground. Except Anna's. Anna was too busy pulling the trigger into the leg of the leader in front of her. He went down. She whirled the man she held away from her, pointed to his head and shot him. The bullet escaped between his eyes.

Jessi was murmuring to himself in French but she paid him no mind. Anna trained the gun on the leader, who was currently clutching his leg wound while his other hand feebly tried to maintain hold on his gun. He knew Anna's stolen gun was on him but that didn't stop him.

Anna walked up and kicked the gun from his hand. "You little bitch!" he screeched at her. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Anna wanted to answer, badly, but she held her tongue. Instead, she cocked her gun upwards, indicating that he get up. The man just glared at her, his thin moustache quivering with anger. Sweat was covering his entire body, sticking his black hair to his forehead. His face had lost all colour.

Anna rolled her eyes and cocked her gun upwards again. This time the man spat at her feet.

He was asking for it. Anna shot him in his hand. The warehouse was filled with the screams of the Frenchman lying before her. She watched calmly as those screams transformed into sobs, backed up by the sporadic curses from a freaked out Jessi still tied to his chair. The shot in his hand either scared or shocked the man into pushing himself to his feet. Anna's eyes and gun followed him on his way up. She motioned to the chair meant for her.

The man hesitated. His glare was filled with hatred and his lips curled upwards in anger but he limped over to the chair nonetheless, hissing in pain and holding his bleeding hand to this chest. Anna stared at him as he picked up the chair with his uninjured hand and sat down in it with a hard sigh. She advanced.

Anna picked up the rope and tied the man to the chair. Throughout the task, she ignored the man's glare and his heated breath on her neck. He was cursing at her in French, telling her all the horrible things he was going to do to her, saying horrible things about her mother. Anna wasn't fazed. She tightened the rope as hard as she could then stepped back to the survey her work.

The man's look was desperately trying to get her to cock up both legs but Anna was already moving on. She set the gun down on the ground and turned to Jessi. He flinched when her eyes landed on him. As she approached, he began shaking his head, the action becoming more frantic the closer she got.

"Please don't kill me," he begged. Anna was pleasantly surprised he didn't stutter. "Please, I'm not with them. I didn't do anything wrong."

She said nothing, although she was suddenly overcome with the urge to reassure him. She didn't like the fear he had in his eyes as he looked at her. She wanted to tell him everything was going to be fine and that she was here to save him, not kill him. But she couldn't risk him recognizing her voice.

Anna stooped at the first dead man and pulled hard on the knife, releasing it from its cage of bones, cartilage and muscles. The blood it had to show for it was wiped off in the man's clothes. She face Jessi again. This time, he stuttered.

"M-mon Dieu," he murmured, closing his eyes for a second. "I'm going to die."

Anna raised her hands to show him she wasn't going to hurt him. That stopped him and he allowed her to approach without another word. Anna knelt at her feet and began cutting through the ropes.

"Are you a spy?" Jessi asked. She didn't answer. He pressed on, "You killed them. You just ... killed them. Just like that. Only a spy does that. You're in all black too. Are you really a spy? I came from a spy movie not too long ago, I know how you guys are." His voice was trembling and he stopped to swallow. His Adam's apple bobbed. Anna glanced up at him then continued what she was doing.

"What are you going to do with the bodies?" he continued to ramble. "Are you going to leave them here or bury them somewhere? Or probably call the CIA to come take them to lab, huh? What's the protocol here? Are you going to pull out of those black memory erasing things from Men in Black?"

That made her smile. She cut through the last thread of the rope and his hands were freed instantly. Jessi instantly began rubbing on his wrists, but his eyes never left her. Anna pushed the knife back down into her boot, and went back to fetch her gun. She aimed it at him and had his hands shooting up into the air.

"Please don't shoot," he pleaded. "Please."

Anna tilted the head towards the entrance of the warehouse. Jessi's eyes darted in that direction then back to her. "You want me to leave?" Jessi asked.

She nodded.

"And leave you?"

Anna rolled her eyes and this time, stretched her hand further towards him. It was designed to frighten him and it succeeded. Jessi sprang out of the chair and, after a quick, final look at the man tied to the other chair, he made a mad dash for the entrance. Anna watched him go.

She knew Jessi though. She might not have known him for long, but she knew, especially since recently, that there were two things keeping here. His curiousity and his love for spies. She would bet anything that he was hiding outside, trying to listen in on the conversation that was about to unfold.

She would have went after him, to make sure he really left but she couldn't be bothered. So she left him be and turned to face the man.

Anna made sure her face was hidden from view before she pulled the face mask down.

"Who are you?" the man spat.

"None of your business." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. If Jessi was indeed right outside, it would be wise not to let him hear her. "Who do you work for?

"None of your business," he threw back at her.

Anna blinked at him, slowly. "You do realize I'm the one holding the gun, right?"

"You don't scare me."

"Funny seeing that I should. I don't think you want another bullet in your leg."

The man blanched. "You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't? Not so sure about that. Now answer the question."

The man stared her down. She didn't flinch, didn't look away, and finally he broke. "The Rebels."

"Who are?"

"A secret French organization."

"And what do the Rebels do?"

"Protect France and its interests."

"Pretty big task for a group of people who can't even protect themselves from a seventeen year old girl."

"We're small," the man spat. "We're small and we aren't nationally funded."

"Excuses, excuses. What do you want with Jessime Beaumont?"

"He has something we need."

"Which is?"

He grinned, exposing his pearly yellows. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would," she agreed with a nod. "And you're going to tell me. Why are so many of you in America? What do you want with Jessi? Why am I hearing your name everywhere I go?"

The man leaned as far as his ropes would allow. His grin stretched even wider. "I'm not tell you a thing."

Anna took a deep breath. "Don't test me, Frenchie."

"You can kill me if you want," he taunted. "That's the most you're getting out of me. Why don't you chew on that for a while?"

"I could always call HQ and take you in for some information retrieval exercises. Or as I like to call it, torture."

"You don't scare me." He released a guttural laugh. "Besides, we both know you won't."

"Oh?"

"They're not telling you anything, huh? I can tell by the surprise in your eyes. If they were telling you stuff, you wouldn't be asking me questions in the first place. Makes you wonder what they're hiding, why they're hiding it from you."

Anna didn't answer. Her face remained blank even as his words struck home. Still, her silence spoke volume.

The man leaned back, satisfied by her reaction, or lack thereof. "What are you to them anyway? Some sort of terminator? You take care of all the rodents and pests they can't bother with anymore? Why would they tell the terminator anything? All you have to do it just clean up their mess and move on to the next target, huh? Pathetic."

"You don't know anything," Anna murmured. But he did. In fact, he was spot on.

And he knew it. "I don't? Then why are you looking at me like that? You just don't want to hear the truth, don't you? You just –!"

The man's head snapped backwards, the force pushing his chair back. He didn't mind it; he was already dead.