Sleep depravity was a hell of thing. Anna felt like a zombie, her limbs and brain fully awake as she laid like a stiff log. Her mind gently slipped from its sleep state, slow and unwelcomed. If that wasn't the worst feeling on earth, Anna didn't know what was.

One eye eased open, crusted with eye matter, and then the other. She looked over at the digital clock sitting on her bedside table. The moment she saw the red lights blazing '6:00 A.M.', she almost groaned aloud. Yet, that simple primal noise was too much for her in her sleep deprived state and so she settled for a soft sigh as she mustered all the strength in her body to pull herself upwards.

She hated this regular routine. After falling into bed at four this very morning, she'd hoped her body would be too tired to attempt waking up at six on the dot. Yet, here she was, rising out of bed like a creature from the earth. And she knew there was definitely no hope of going back to sleep now.

She'd always written it off as a part of her personality. Something told her that it had to be something bigger than that, something more than just a personality trait. Especially since she hated it so much. But no matter how much she thought about it, she just couldn't figure it out.

Anna sighed, staring blankly up at the ceiling as the question rushed through her head. She'd distinctly remembered visiting the doctor when she couldn't deal with it any longer. But even the trained medical professional couldn't figure out what wired her to act so oddly. She could have fallen asleep at 5:59 on the dot and as soon as the clock struck six she was springing up like a damn clockwork machine. And that small amount of sleep did nothing to keep her energized to face the day. As a result, she'd tried to make it a habit to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but with Thomas any hope of that soon fell away.

Anna pushed her feet over the side of her bed and got up. With her eyes still crusted half closed, she trudged along, making her way to the adjoined bathroom. Surely, some cold water on her face would succeed in waking her up some. And if that didn't work, she had an unopened package of instant coffee beckoning to her with its tantalizing phantom smell from the kitchen. If all else failed, coffee would do the trick.

She switched on the light and threw a hand over her face when the bright light became too much for her unaccustomed eyes. Reaching forward, she stumbled about, trying to make her way to the face basin. Anna quickly splashed cold water on her face, rubbing away the eye matter, but it little to wash away the exhaustion behind her eyes. Admitting defeat, she grabbed a towel from the rack by the basin and wiped away the excess water.

Anna fought the fatigue as she staggered her way out of her bedroom and into the living room. She made her way to the very back, where the raised panel sectioned off a decent sized kitchen with two overhead lights hanging above. Light flooded the kitchen with a flip of a switch.

As quickly as she could, Anna located her coffee. She ripped through the package, brought forth two packets of coffee, and set about making it.

Thomas always told her to lay of the coffee. Even now she could hear his voice echoing in her head, telling her that all that coffee was bad for her. She would ignore him every time he said it, at most acknowledging what he said with a small nod. But she never listened to him. Without at least two cups of coffee, she was as useless in this state as a sack of lumpy potatoes.

While she stood impatiently waiting for her coffee to brew, the doorbell rang. Anna whipped around in the direction of the door, narrowing her eyes. She never got house visits. So, who the hell could that be?

Keeping her eyes on the door, she slowly reached under the kitchen island and located the glock she kept taped underneath it. She held it downward, the safety already off. Anna tiptoed towards the door, keeping her eyes trained on the frame just in case the person at the door decided to pick his way in. Once at the door, she reached up and looked through the peephole.

The person at the other side of the door was a man. She could tell by the broad expanse of his shoulders and the manly stance. He was in black, his hood pulled over his head with his back turned to her. Now that she thought about it, it could very well be a very manly woman.

She frowned. She didn't recognize him and her way grew tenfold, even though it was unlikely that he meant her any harm. If he did, he wouldn't have rung the doorbell in the first place. It was the shock of hearing that sound echo through her apartment that had her reaching for the gun before registering what she was doing.

She quickly put the gun down on a nearby table. "Yes?" she answered, opening the door just a crack and peeping her head through. The person turned and she saw that her assumption was correct: it was a man. The hood over his head complemented the dark shades he wore, making it difficult to see his features properly Before she could look a bit closer, he held something out to her. It was a briefcase.

"Here's all you will be needing for the mission, agent." His voice was deep and his mouth was a straight line as he spoke. Anna looked down at the briefcase and then slowly took it from him. As soon as she did, the man turned and walked away, leaving her staring in his wake.

That was...odd. They didn't usually hand deliver her mission packages to her. She usually had to go and pick it up from headquarters.

Thomas was probably feeling sorry for her, knowing that she'd gone to bed late last night. The thought should have made her feel good seeing that she was being considered, but it only put a sour taste in her mouth. She dumped the briefcase in the couch and turned her back to it. She wasn't sure what exactly Thomas was trying to accomplish, but something told her it wasn't of her own interest.

Before long, she was back, pushing the briefcase over in the couch and holding a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She sipped on the scalding hot liquid, reveling in the feel of that liquid energy running down her throat. She set it down on the coaster on the coffee table and pulled the briefcase into her lap. Inside was her new school ID and her driver's license, both bearing the name Annabelle Ferguson.

Amongst the papers and files there was also a small back USB drive. Anna took it out and made her way over to the large flat screen TV that dominated the front wall in the living room. She reached around the back and pushed the drive in, then waited for the screen to light up. Soon enough, a video popped up on screen and Thomas' smiling face shone back at her.

"Good morning, Annabelle," he greeted.. "I hope you had a good enough rest because today, you'll be starting your next mission. As you can see, you are Annabelle Ferguson, a new transfer student."

Anna picked up her coffee and leaned back in the couch. She sipped her coffee as she listened to Thomas and scanned her details.

"Your target is Jessime Beamont. His information is included in your mission package. I suggest you take a look."

He didn't have to suggest. Thomas knew she would go through it until she knew every word.

"Jessime Beaumont is son of the late French Prime Minister," he went on. "And in his will he left his son something very important. You are only required to protect him until his eighteenth birthday on the twenty-sixth of November. That is when he will gain access to the will."

Jessime Beaumont was pretty good-looking. That was the first thing she noticed. The way the black hair and the nice, easy eyes and the wide smile came together and made one very nice package. To add, Anna saw he was fluent in both French and English. No doubt that gave girls around even more reason to coo and fan themselves over him. She could already picture it.

"Annabelle." At the suddenly serious tone of Thomas' voice, Anna glanced up. His eyes grew intense. "Under no circumstances is Jessime Beaumont allowed to know anything about your mission. This is a covert mission, do you understand?"

As if she didn't already know as much. Anna rolled her eyes and looked back down on the paper, throwing back what remained of her coffee.

Thomas leaned back, obviously satisfied with his warning. "Good. Now start packing. A car will arrive at ten to take you to the school."

Then the video clicked off. Anna threw everything back into the briefcase and got up to make herself a second cup of coffee. While she packed and got herself ready, she read through Jessime Beaumont's file.

He was born in France, which she'd expected, but he migrated when he was fourteen to attended Middleton Academy, one of the most prestigious schools worldwide. From his file, Anna saw that Jessime Beaumont wasn't just a good-looking, bilingual French national. He was also a soccer star and a very accomplished student, as evident from the many academic awards he had.

But what was Jessime Beaumont like in person?

She knew from experience that the files only told the basics, not the specifics. For the most part, all Anna needed to know was who to kill and where to find them. But this was a mission that raised a whole heap of additional questions.

Jessime Beaumont looked great on paper but was he a terrible person? Was he a annoying? He could be a goddamn cultist. That question replayed itself in her head as she got dressed, her suitcases packed and sitting by the door.

She pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a black tank and her black laced up boots. Feeling immediately comforted by her layer of black, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She did have other colours in her wardrobe, many others in fact. But she liked black the best and, since she didn't have to change much about herself except for her name, she decided that Annabelle Ferguson would like black too.

Anna pushed her twin knives into both boots, then wrapped her rod-shifting belt around her waist. The twin knives and the rod belt were the only two weapons she would hide on her person in such casual clothes but then, after a moment, she felt she needed more. If she was really going to protect Jessime Beaumont, she needed to be well equipped. So quickly, seeing that she was nearing her ten o' clock deadline, she grabbed another suitcase and piled in as much weapons, gadgets and mission outfits as she could. She must have gone overboard because, by the time she was done, the suitcase couldn't close. And sitting on it might make one of those dangerous weapons go off.

Just when she was contemplating how to close it, her doorbell rang again. This time she didn't draw for the glock that sat comfortably under her pillow. She rushed over to the door and peeped through the hole.

"You're here," she said, throwing the door open. Outside stood two men she'd never seen before but who she was certain was sent by Thomas. Their hoods, dark glasses and stern faces told it all. "I have a bit of a problem."

"You see," she continued, turning away and leaving the door open for them to come inside. "I can't seem to get this suitcase closed." Anna pointed to her weapon filled suitcase.

The men made no sound. They just silently went up to the suitcase and Anna watched in slight awe as they managed to get the suitcase closed without damaging neither the weapons nor the suitcase itself.

"Damn," she exclaimed lightly. "You guys move fast." Then she tilted her head at the other suitcases, a silent order for them to carry the bags themselves. The message got through and, without a word of protest, the two cryptic men hefted the bags over their shoulders and left the apartment.

She stared after them. Maybe they hadn't noticed the wheels attached to the bottom of the suitcase.

Anna stopped in the threshold of her apartment entrance and looked around. She was suddenly brought back to the first time she moved into this apartment by herself. She'd been sixteen at the time but it had taken years of tireless convincing to get Thomas to agree to her leaving headquarters, where she'd been staying all along. She'd lived in the agents' quarters, along with the other agents, and, for her, it had been like being dipped into a pool of lemon juice after fighting with a cat. Torture.

She'd hated staying there. Every waking moment was spent wishing she could leave, her need unbearable. At long last, she had been granted her wish and she moved out. Thomas hadn't wanted her to go, though. He'd said as much when he mentioned that he liked having her near him, where he could conveniently call for her whenever he wanted. That just made her want to leave even more.

She told herself she wouldn't be gone long, just until this mission was over. And then, she would be back in her own bed, snuggled up on her own couch, watching reruns on her own TV. With that prevailing thought in her head, she heaved a long sigh and, wistfully, closed the door behind her with a click. Immediately, she heard the lock fall into place.

On her way outside, Anna, once again, went over the mission in her head. She had remembered to pack the mission briefcase in one of her suitcases, but that was it. She hadn't gotten much time to read the details on the mission. All she knew for sure was that she was headed to a private boarding high school where she had to protect the son of the late French Prime Minister. Everything else was blurry in her head.

Anna stopped herself. I just need the specifics. When I get there, things will be clearer to me.

"How far?" she asked the men, once she caught up with them outside. She approached the sleek, black, nondescript car while they were in the process of stuffing her bags in the trunk.

"Hey, watch it," she growled. "Be careful with my stuff, will you?"

Again she was met with stony silence. She sighed. "How far?" she asked again.

"An hour's drive," one man replied. He slammed the trunk down and walked around the car, opening the passenger's car door while the other went to the driver's seat.

An hour's drive. That wasn't so bad. That would give her some time for a quick and well needed nap. Even after her two cups of coffee, she was still feeling a bit drained. Anna slipped onto the back seats, the air conditioning wrapping around her, cloaking her in its frigid comfort. She sank into the leather chairs and rested her head back, sighing softly.

The men rode in complete and utter silence but she was glad for it. The silence wasn't loud but soothing, easing her into a nice nap.

An hour later, the man sitting in the passenger seat announced their arrival and pulled Anna out of her dreamless sleep. She sat up and blinked a couple times, to clear the fog away. The sleep she sank into had been deep and fulfilling, and her mouth stretched apart in a small smile while she stretched her limbs forward. Finally, she felt as if she could face the day.

And, judging by the school the car was pulling up to, she was going to need all the help she could get. The first thing she saw was the tall, iron wrought gates with the words Middleton Academy carved into the middle. It was attached to high cemented fences and, upon their approach, the gate slowly swung open.

Anna watched as a man, who looked very spiffy for a gate guard, haughtily stopped the car and asked for identification. The man driving the car didn't say a word to him and Anna didn't expect him to. The gate guard lifted his chin at the driver's silence, trying to sizing him up and clearly failing miserably. At long last, he broke under the harsh pressure of her driver's stare and he sent them along with a swallow, no doubt feeling very intimidated.

Well, she couldn't say the driver's method wasn't ... colourful.

Stretched out before them was a long and wide road that seemed never-ending. As they kept driving, Anna resorted to peeking out the window in hopes of spotting a building but nothing came. The road was surrounded by freshly cut grass and a few trees dotted here and there, benches spread out underneath them. The more benches she saw, the closer she knew she was coming approaching the main structure. At long last, it appeared.

It looked like it had once been a chapel. The main building, that was. The other buildings that stretched out behind it looked fairly modern compared to the one they pulled up to. Maybe the Pope himself even set foot here once upon a time. The idea didn't sound preposterous to her.

The men leaped out of the car when they parked. Anna exited too, staring up at the building. She had to admit: it did look pretty impressive.

One of the hooded men walked around the trunk while the other approached her with a paper in her hand. "From the Chief," he said, handing it to her. "Instructions for your admittance into the school."

Short and to the point. She was beginning to like this man, although she wasn't quite sure which one he was. Anna looked down at the paper then nodded at him. He returned the nod, then went over to the trunk to help with the rest of her suitcases. She waited for them to finish then set off behind them as they led the way pass the huge double doors.