Eagle

Hopefully quite suspensful.

It happened one wintry evening...

She was coming home. Her boots crunched in the thin crust of snow that was strewn across the winding road framed by tall hedges. She shivered as a chill wind slipped through her coat, wrapping itself around her body. Ducking her head and pulling her collar up, she quickened her steps with a feeling of great unease, as the moon cast a hostile glare across her path.

***

Starling glanced anxiously at the dark figure of Raven as Thrush knelt down to pick up the pile of papers that had slipped from his grasp. Raven stirred slightly but said nothing. Starling sighed with relief. Raven was ruthless and unpredictable. Rumour had it that he had once shot one of his own men just for spilling his flask of coffee. Knowing Raven, Starling believed the rumour. 

Starling jumped as Raven suddenly barked out “Robin!” A small hunched-over man scurried forward. His ruined face was the victim of livid scars running down the left side of his face, pulling the corner of his mouth into a distorted grimace. Starling shuddered as his distorted features pulled her back to the memory of the huge explosion that had destroyed Robin’s face – an explosion that had been her fault. Raven’s voice jolted her back to reality.

“Where are the co ordinates, Robin?” asked Raven. Robin produced a sheaf of papers from the black file he was carrying, handing them carefully to Raven. He kept tabs on everyone who might prove a danger at some point, everyone who might learn too much. Raven scanned them silently for a moment and then dropped them onto his desk.

“The hit will commence at midnight tonight – andthis time, there will be no mistakes” Raven stated, his voice dropping ominously on the last words. Starling swallowed. She knew the words were directed at her. Her last assignment had not gone well, to say the least. But this hit would be easy. The Eagle would strike again.

***

She nearly screamed as a fox bounded out of the hedgerow, flashing across her path. She told herself that there was nothing to worry about, she walked this route every night. But she still couldn’t shake off the feeling of danger. She remembered her day at work in the Secret Services, her breathing slowing as she savoured the moment of pride she had felt at catching the spy.

She had come back early from her lunch break and caught him rummaging through her desk drawers. He had been looking for the files she kept on the Eagle, a gang of ruthless and deadly criminals, notorious for being impossible to locate. And yet she had caught one of their members. She smiled as she thought of the promotion she would surely receive.

 After interrogation, she had found out his code name, Finch, and the entire details of their next hit. She had also found out the name of his leader. Raven. Still smiling, she walked down the road; too busy dreaming about how she would be remembered as the one who apprehended the notorious Eagle gang to notice the rustling of a cloak against the hedge in the dark bend she was walking towards. It was five minutes to midnight.

 ***

Starling crouched round the bend, her back sweeping the hedge as she felt for her knives. She froze as she heard a noise coming up the road. Was it the hit? She glanced out, searching for a glimpse of the hit. A fox darted past. Starling sighed and sat back, allowing herself a brief moment of relaxation. Her mind slipped back to her last – disastrous assignment.

She had panicked at the last moment, hearing footsteps, and had miscalculated in her haste to escape. Her mistake had cost Sparrow his life, and Robin his face. She knew that if she hadn’t been the best assassin Raven had – and that wasn’t boasting, just fact – it would have cost Starling her own life. As it was, her punishment had been almost too much to bear-nearly making Starling sorry she had survived. But not quite. Her self-preservation was strong, and probably all that got her through her punishment.

 The sound of approaching footsteps broke Starling out of her reverie. The hit was coming. She stood, pulled her knife out of its sheath, her cloak rustling against the leaves, as adrenaline coursed through her. Flexing her arm, Starling waited for the hit to make the last steps. For a moment she felt a spark of pity. This hit was just someone in the wrong place, prying into something better left alone. Then she brushed the feeling away and hardened her heart. If the hit escaped, it wouldn’t be long before the Eagle was found and caught. Starling shifted her grip on the knife, and stepped out in front of the hit.

***

She was still thinking about her interrogation. It was so frustrating that her boss had been busy that day. She wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about any interrogation results until he knew, and while she was dying to boast about her capture, she had obeyed. But it didn’t really matter. She would tell him tomorrow.

She was so intent on her dreams that she barely had time to register her feeling of danger before a dark-cloaked figure stepped out in front of her, a golden eagle feather pinned to its cloak. In that instant she knew how foolish she had been. How could she have expected to survive with the knowledge of the Eagle’s secrets? The Eagle would keep their secret safe.                            

Cold fear gripped her. She started to scream. The figure raised a knife.

***

Starling aimed and threw. She didn’t miss.

And in Raven’s lair, the clock chimed midnight.

 

 

 

Author's Note

The third of the stories I am trying to get good enough for publication, along with "Death of an Angel" and "Alone". Constructive critisism welcomed