** Potential Spoilers Ahead**


            His left foot planted down as his momentum gracefully twisted. With a spring in his step, his body lifted high into the air and his right foot brought his entire body into a spinning motion. His foot met the target, shattering the wood into pieces, and he landed neatly on the floor.
            “Jeez, Tomas, save some awesome for the rest of us,” Mitchell scoffed.
            Tomas grinned from ear to ear and checked his handiwork.
            “That was nearly perfect,” Master Hershel barked behind them. He approached and pointed at the angle at which Tomas landed. "You left yourself open to an offensive attack.” The man jabbed Tomas’s back at the hip. “This is a vital area. A second attacker could take you out. You let your body get out of control at the landing.”
            “You’re right, sir. I’ll do it again.” Tomas set up another board, once the splinters were collected, and prepared for another flying, scissor kick.
            “Agent Rognas and Exacil, take note,” their instructor strictly spoke. “In any situation, whether it’s training or on assignment, keep in mind about your body position. Never allow a target to find an opening. That could mean life or death for you.”
            Tomas repeated the steps, calculating the final twist and landing. He felt his body overextend. In midair, he altered his abdomen slightly and the uncontrolled feeling disappeared. His feet landed, his hands went up, and he was prepared for another assault.
            “Superb! Remember, as Rescue Agents, you are assigned to enter any situation without knowing the full extent of an assignment. You don’t get repeats like in training. Don’t allow your mind to wander.” The master bowed and excused them for the day. “Oh, Agent Exacil, a word?”
            Mitchell bowed and excused himself from the training arena.
            “You’ve done exceptional work in the last few months, Exacil. The Rescue Team hasn’t had a Supervisory Agent with so much success on assignments.”
            “Thank you, sir,” Tomas accepted the praise.
            Master Hershel patted Tomas’s shoulder. “I’ve been informed on a classified assignment that I think you’d be perfect for.”
            “What is the assignment?”
            “They’ve called it ‘The Egyptian Heir’. Only a handful of people will be aware of this assignment. Recon will be your main priority. At this point, your target is Victor Folgin.” He headed to a duffel bag and extracted a sealed envelope. “He is gathering a group and has targeted an organization by the name of the Sacred Chosen.”
            Tomas gripped the envelope, but halted in opening it. His breath caught in his throat. “Sir, this is a Red Tape Classified Assignment.”
            “Yes, it is. It is also a primary assignment. You would drop everything at a drop of a dime whenever intel is provided.” He pointed at the envelope. “Understand that as soon as you open that envelope, you’ve accepted the position. Do not open it lightly. Take a few days and spend some time truly understanding what is being asked of you. This is a rare opportunity, but the man, Victor Folgin, is dangerous.”
            Tomas’s thrill of a challenge dampened at the sound of his master’s voice. He seemed to dread Tomas being asked this, and yet, proudly showed his admiration for Tomas’s skills.
            “Sir, if I accept, who is my Supervisory Agent?”
            “Mr. Edwards.”
            “That’s highly uncommon,” Tomas mumbled under his breath. “A Branch Head supervising an assignment?”
            “Again, this is not a traditional assignment. You’re in or out, but once in, there’s no turning back.”
            “Sir,” Tomas admired his master, “as my mentor, and knowing what you do know about this,” he waved the envelope around, “would you recommend me accepting?”
            “Agent Exacil, you are the only agent I would recommend doing this. Any other would fail, and end up, probably, dead. I recommended you for this to Mr. Edwards and he agreed fully.” He broke his serious expression for a second to demonstrate fondness towards his prodigy. “However, this decision is yours. It will be long term and carry high risk for everyone involved.”
            Tomas straightened his shoulders and hid his reservations. “I will consider this, sir.”
            Excusing Tomas, the master strolled from sight and headed towards the exit. Tomas slowly gathered his items, staring at the ominous envelope.
            I’ve worked towards an assignment like this, but why do I get this sense of dread?
            “Hey! Tomas!”
            Tomas tucked the envelope into his bag hurriedly and spun at the lowering voice of the adolescent boy.
            “Hey, Zack, how’d your first assignment go?” Tomas snapped his fingers and recalled the first years’ entrance assignment. “Cat stuck in a tree?” he jested.
            “Oh, ha-ha!” Zack sarcastically rolled his eyes. “I helped on a primary assignment with a thief who stole some priceless painting. It was deemed an FUA task because of the history of the painting. Did you know that during World War Two, so many things were stolen and once found are meant to return to the country of origin> This painting belonged to a family in Poland. It’s heading back now. So, the original claim of theft was actually from someone down the line who had stolen it themselves.”
            Tomas laughed at the enthusiasm and nudged Zack with his knuckles.
            “Just wait for more assignments like that. You’ll get addicted to the research.”
            Zack chirped, “I can’t wait! Are you heading home? Mom is cooking…" he paused to allow Tomas to groan. "Scary, I know. If you’re still training, I’ll give an excuse as to why you’re late.”
            Tomas responded, “Nah, I’m done. I was just packing my things and going to shower off. Hershel worked us hard today.”
            “Jeez, he doesn’t sound like a pleasant master. I guess in a few months, I’ll be testing again and will be training with him.”
            “He’s rough, but he’s a great teacher. He wants his students to survive and succeed.” Tomas heaved his bag up. “Wait for me and I’ll give you a ride.”
            Zack agreed and told him he’d be on the main floor. Tomas heavily strolled to the locker room. It was silent within and he fell into deep thought as he stepped towards the showers and turned on the water. The envelope nagged him to open it. His curiosity was killing him but he needed to slow down and think about the small information he had. He couldn’t cockily enter an assignment thinking he’d succeed without considering the risks.
            I should investigate Victor Folgin. He may be the deciding factor. He may not be worth the risk. He was bothered by this assignment. Why ask the Saskatoon FUA? There must be better equipped agencies than us. A Red Tape Assignment hits our agency every ten years, but even that’s a stretch.
            Tomas scrubbed at his head, washing away the shampoo and sweat from his hair.
            Hershel is rarely perturbed. He considered addressing Mr. Edwards on the topic. He’s probably unable to explain more than Hershel did.
            He stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
            “Yo! Tomas, hello?” Mitchell clapped his hands in front of Tomas’s face. “What’s up? You’re out of it.”
            Tomas shook his head and tossed on his shirt. “Shit, sorry. I thought I was alone in here.”
            “What did Hershel want?”
            Tomas shrugged. “Just wanted to discuss a new assignment.”
            “That’s never good if Hershel is discussing assignments.” Mitchell understood the danger as Tomas did. “Did you accept it?”
            “Not yet. I have to look into some things beforehand.”
            Mitchell hefted his duffel bag over his shoulder and then knocked on the locker room's door, hesitating to add his two cents.
            “Just remember, you’re an amazing agent, but taking on something that could put you in danger may not be the right choice. Your dad passed only nine months ago. Your mom and brother are still mourning. Don’t throw yourself into your work because that’s how you deal with your emotions. I don’t think your mom will handle the loss of another family member.”
            Tomas froze on pulling up his jeans. He hadn’t considered that part of the risk. Am I ready to risk everything for this?”
            Mitchell exited with a slight wave. Tomas finished dressing and edgily strolled through the FUA to the glass elevator. He struck 'M', preoccupied by his thoughts, and rode to the main level while he tapped his head against the glass interior. A ding stirred him. He stepped purposefully forward. Zack spoke to the burly Greg near the exit doors. Tomas faked a smile that was well practised from the last few months, and approached the first-year agent who he proudly called family.
            “Hey, Greg. Keeping out of trouble?” Tomas lightly jeered.
            Greg slicked back his thinning dirty blonde hair and wagged a finger at the troublesome Rescue Age  nt.
             “Trouble seems to find me where I go.”
             Tomas nudged Zack’s shoulder and ushered him out the doors. Greg limped towards the security bench and sank, rubbing his sore leg.
              Absently, Tomas mumbled, “He’s looking better. More optimistic since the accident.”
              Zack followed Tomas down the back alleyway to the well-maintained red pickup truck.
              “Whatever happened to Greg? Wasn’t he next in line to take over for Mr. Edwards when he retired?”
              Tomas slipped into the driver’s side and clicked his tongue to scold the newbie agent. “Zack, don’t ask too many questions about injured agents. Not only is it rude, it can be confidential or a career ruining topic.”
              “Sorry, I didn’t mea-”
              “But,” Tomas added, “Greg is fairly open about it. He wants agents to learn from his mistakes. Yes, Greg, at one point was in the standing to replace Mr. Edwards. He was a Supervisory Agent in charge of the Undercover Agents. He received a distress call from an agent. Unfortunately, he did not wait for all the intel and rushed into the situation, thinking only three hostiles were in the location, when there was actually four.” Tomas signalled and shot onto the street, cruising along the river in a typical drive of diversion before heading home. “The distress signal was sent from the deceased agent’s communication device and Greg ended up losing two agents and being shot himself in the femoral artery. His team was able to secure the hostiles. Luckily, Greg survived, but not without permanent damage to his leg. He was forced to step down as a Supervisory Agent and was given a choice of retirement or a vacant FUA Branch Head Security position. He’ll never retire until he dies, so I suppose this is the best-case scenario.” Tomas shoulder checked and steadily changed lanes. “Greg will be the first to tell you, always have your intel and ensure it is accurate before action.” I will not react recklessly about this assignment. I need more information.
              Zack sheepishly gaped at the tragic end to a promising career. “Oh man, that’s brutal. Greg is such a great guy and he could’ve really done amazing things with the Branch. Between him and Mr. Edwards, Saskatoon may grow to be a respected agency.”
              “Yes, well, it only takes one misstep to tumble all the blocks. Zack, you’re smart. Don’t fog your mind with doubt, worry or emotional attachments. During an assignment that could mean death.”
              “Tomas,” Zack wondered aloud, “aren’t you, as a Rescue Team Agent, all about entering a situation without intel?”
              “Yes, but we are prepared for every situation and heavily trained. If that’s your goal in the FUA, ensure you focus on training your body, as well as sharpening your mind. You can’t survive with just brute force.” Tomas ended the mindless dissuade and drove straight home. “Greg’s leg will most likely heal. He won’t ever return to the field because he would hold other agents back during assignments, but he’s found a passion for ensuring the Branch’s security and safety.”
               Parking, Tomas removed his keys from the ignition and hopped down from the truck. He smelt the burnt food before he could approach the porch. Mom, you should just order take out when you have an urge to cook. He missed the wafting scents that once embraced the house when his dad cooked. They’d lost a great deal in the past few months.
              “I guess,” Zack choked on his dismay, “I should’ve offered to help when she mentioned she was cooking. This is going to be a cringy meal.”
              Tomas winked and put his finger to his mouth. “She’s at least out of bed and feeling like herself once more. We’ll end up ordering pizza later tonight.”
              Her beautiful blonde hair was tight in a messy bun. She scurried about the kitchen desperately trying to fan the oven’s smoke out an open window. Large tears rolled down her eyes and disappointed grunts expressed her dismay.  
              “Oh, boys! I wasn’t expecting you yet.” She wiped her tears and laughed in defeat of her failed attempt at traditional house duties. “I tried to cook to celebrate my latest big win, but I forgot a pan underneath the roast, it overflowed, and caught fire.”
Tomas hurriedly patted his mother’s shoulder and darted to the pantry to snatch the baking soda. It sprinkled inside the oven where a small grease fire burned.
               “Baking soda, mom,” Zack gently educated her, “always baking soda with grease fires.” He widened the oven completely and pulled out the roast. “Other than this one charred side, this may be salvageable.”
               Tomas checked the stove where potatoes boiled to the brink of overflowing, and well seasoned spinach simmered. Turning off everything, he hugged his mom tight after checking nothing else could cause issues.
               “Overall, this looks good!” Tomas began the process of mashing the potatoes and adding garlic and horseradish in. “Congrats on the big win, mom! That’s the case revolving a drunk driver and a little girl?”
           “Yes. The parents will receive compensation and the guy will be off the street for a long time.” Their mom sank onto a kitchen chair. “Boys, we don’t need to eat this, we can just go out to eat.”
               “Nah, mom,” Zack urged, “we’ll be able to fix this.”
               Tomas and Zack ushered their worried-filled, youthful mother to the kitchen table, and then set to work to finish the meal. They laughed and talked about their week. Tomas lavished in the quality time with his family. Too often was he preoccupied by an assignment, or his mom was off in her study working on a case, or Zack was dealing with life as a pre-teen and the FUA. A portion of their family unit died with their dad, and they all seemed to move away from one another. The meal, though sections were crispy, was gobbled up with appreciation of a return to normality.
               The dishes clanged together as they were cleaned by all three and then everyone retired to their rooms for a good night’s sleep. Tomas hugged his mother congrats for winning once more before he quietly shut his door and glanced over at the duffel bag where the Red Tape Assignment awaited him.
               Pulling it out, he tapped a finger against it. Victor Folgin. That’s where I need to begin.
               The night became dark and gloomy with the clicking of the keyboard keys. The more he learned about Victor Folgin, the more dread filled his heart. The man explained in brief detail wouldn’t backdown from a fight. Tomas slumped back into the chair. The file was caressed numbly.
               Whatever this man is looking for, it’s a danger to everyone. Tomas retracted his itchy grip from hastily deciding. He required a bit more information. Hershel mentioned the Sacred Chosen. Once more, his fingers fired up his browser. He typed away, searching for keywords revolving ‘Sacred’ and ‘Chosen’. He came up with religious groups, people claiming to be the messiah reincarnated, and historical documents. Nothing seemed to fit what he searched for. Confused, he loaded the secure FUA program. He disliked using it at home, but answers were still needed. His security information was typed in, and he scrolled through the database. Anything he found during his search would be saved onto his watch for future reading.
               Error!
               Sacred Chosen keywords came up with nothing.
               Error!
               The Egyptian Heir assignment came up as classified.
               Error! Error! Error!
               Tomas growled in frustration. Slamming his fist down onto the desk, he leaned forward, nearly pressing his nose into the computer screen. Why isn’t there any information? Who the hell are the Sacred Chosen? Tomas rotated his neck. It cracked several times. Hershel mentioned that Victor Folgin is targeting the Sacred Chosen. Why aren’t they a blip in the system? He tapped his finger. Again, they typed.
               Error!
               Victor Folgin doesn’t even exist in our systems. What is happening? He now saw why it was a Red Tape Classified assignment. Our general system isn’t going to be enough. Tomas lifted the sealed folder. The only way to fully learn about this assignment, is to read you. He shook. The small intel on Victor Folgin concerned him. Nonetheless, he placed his index finger into the envelope's lip and ripped it open. He wouldn’t shy away from protecting his family and others from the lunacy Victor Folgin presented. He needed all the details. The Egyptian Heir assignment slipped out, exposing a menacing truth the FUA had buried several years ago. ​

●     ●    ●