A Few Years Ago…
Manila, Philippines – Green Park
The afternoon sun poured over Green Park, where children's laughter filled the air and the smell of roasted peanuts drifted from a street vendor nearby. Among the crowd, two kids darted between benches and trees, locked in a game of tag.
Gary clutched a ribbon he had stolen from his friend's hair, waving it like a trophy as he ran. Allysa chased after him, her laughter echoing through the park.
"Heyyy, give that back!" Allysa shouted, breathless but smiling.
"Bleh! You won't catch me!" Gary teased, glancing over his shoulder.
"Unfair! You're faster than me!" Allysa protested, puffing her cheeks in mock anger.
"You're just a slowpoke, Allysa!" Gary grinned, weaving past a bench.
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah?" With sudden determination, she locked her gaze on him and sprinted faster.
Gary's grin faded. "Ah—oh." He pumped his legs harder as Allysa closed the gap.
On a nearby bench, an old lady watched with a gentle smile. "Awww," she murmured, folding her wrinkled hands on her lap. "It reminds me of my past, when I was just as young."
The park carried on around them, but in that moment, the world belonged only to Gary and Allysa—to the laughter, the chase, and the innocence of childhood.
---
Present Day…
Los Angeles, United States – Boyle Heights
The Hollywood sign shimmered faintly against the night sky, a beacon above the restless city. Neon lights bled onto the sidewalks where crowds moved in every direction. Police cruisers patrolled the streets, their sirens fading in and out. Somewhere nearby, an ambulance wailed—someone clinging to life, someone else carrying on like nothing had happened.
But in a parking lot near Boyle Heights, it was quiet. Almost unnaturally so. No shouting, no sirens—just the soft whistle of wind sweeping through empty rows of cars.
Inside a weathered Ford Explorer, Gary Eliot Borja stirred awake. His eyes were swollen with exhaustion, the kind that seeped into his bones after days without rest. He checked his watch and groaned.
"Ah, shit… overslept," he muttered, rubbing his face. "But damn… too tired." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminding himself of a curse: No rest. Not for me. I am a spy—the best of the best in EIS. I have to maintain peace, protect the innocent… stop those syndicates once and for all.
His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. He picked it up immediately.
"Director Cassandra Kane."
Cassandra Kane's voice came through—calm and sharp. "Good evening, Agent 429. Did you complete the mission?"
Gary exhaled slowly, leaning back against the seat. "Yeah. It's done. The drug traffickers are finished. Cops moved in as soon as I made the call. I've got the contraband in the trunk—I'll turn it over to HQ."
There was a pause. Then, a hint of warmth slipped into Cassandra's tone—rare, but unmistakable. "Well done, Agent 429. You never fail EIS."
Gary chuckled awkwardly, forcing a small smile. "Yeah… hahaha. Just doing my mission, Director."
"Come back to HQ. You have a new mission. Before you head to my office, turnover the drugs," Cassandra added, her voice commanding.
Gary breathed heavily. "Yes, ma'am."
As soon as the call ended, he started the Explorer, switching on the headlights to cut through the dark parking lot. The engine hummed as he drove into the streets of Los Angeles. The city was alive—traffic crawling, people rushing home, vendors shouting over the chaos. "Everyone buy this sushi! It's delicious and tasty! Buy it now!" Arguments flared on the sidewalks, laughter bubbled from couples, and the night sky stretched above the glowing city lights. At this hour, chaos and routine collided perfectly.
Inside the Explorer, Gary's hand rested on the steering wheel as his phone buzzed again. Miguel and Zion.
Miguel's cheerful voice came first. "Hey, hey Gary! How's it going, man?"
Zion's tone followed, full of humor. "Hey, brotha. Woah, you look tired, man. We hope that drinking last night caused all this… I mean, you really went all out last night saying random shit."
Gary smirked, gripping the wheel tighter. "Hey, bros, I'm good. And Zion, don't bring that up, or I'll beat your ass once I get there."
Zion laughed. "Dude, don't even get me started…"
Miguel, still amused, added, "Dude, enough. In the first place, that was your fault for making him drink a lot."
Zion shot back, mocking. "Huh? Dude, that was your plan to drink, man. And no, I don't drink—only your ass drinks."
Gary chuckled bitterly. "Alright… bros, enough. No one has to know—not even Handler."
Zion agreed. "Yeah, you're right. Or else our asses get shot by the firing squad."
Miguel softened. "Anyways… how's the mission, Gary? I hope it went well."
Gary replied with a bitter smile. "It went well, Miguel. Thanks to your support, I brought the illegal drugs in my trunk. Couldn't have done it without you two."
Zion's voice dripped with playful sarcasm. "Awww, don't make me cry now, Gary."
The three laughed over the phone as Gary guided the Explorer through buzzing streets, neon lights reflecting off the hood. In the hum of traffic and chatter, the night felt endless—for a moment, Gary allowed himself a brief sense of camaraderie, a rare comfort amid chaos.
---
EIS HQ – Eastern Los Angeles
The HQ was pitch dark, only the Explorer's headlights cutting through the silence. The hum of the engine echoed faintly, joined by distant crickets, boars, and frogs hidden in the night.
Gary arrived at the checkpoint. The identificator was camouflaged, hidden deep within the woods, metal surface blending with rock and branches. Suddenly, a robotic voice spoke, cold and commanding:
"Identify yourself."
Gary rolled down his window, dead serious. "Agent 429."
He extended his keycard. The scanner glowed faint blue and confirmed: Welcome, Agent 429.
The massive gate, shaped like solid rock, rumbled as it split apart. The noise scattered nearby foxes. Cobwebs fell, the ground trembled with the machinery's force.
Gary pressed the gas, driving into the concealed HQ entrance. From outside, it looked rocky, almost like a cave. Inside, the cavern buzzed with activity: stacked containers, glowing monitors, racks of guns, and patrolling guards. Bright construction lights cast harsh shadows across the chamber.
A guard carrying an M16 approached. "Agent 429. The Handler has been waiting for you."
Gary nodded, stepped out, and retrieved a briefcase from the trunk. "Here. Take care of it. Make sure it gets to HQ."
The guard saluted. "You can trust me, sir." He walked away with two others, carrying the case.
Gary moved deeper into the tunnel until reaching a heavy iron door. He swiped his card, leaned into the scanner, and let it recognize his eye features. The door opened with a mechanical hum, revealing a bright corridor ahead.
Lights ran along the ceiling, guiding the way toward Gate 2. Agents moved through the hallway, some in lab coats carrying clipboards, others chatting idly.
"Hey, you hear about the missing EIS mole?" one guard asked.
"Nah, man. All I heard was their number got deactivated," another replied, shocked.
"Damn… that's crazy," the first said.
Gary walked past, not paying attention. Suddenly, someone hugged him tightly from behind. He twisted, confused, until he saw Celine Kane—sleek black tactical uniform, holster at her side, ponytail swinging.
"Step bro~!" she squealed.
Gary smiled, catching his breath. "Hey, Celine…"
Everyone stared, but she didn't care. Her voice was playful and sweet. "I missed you sooo much, my step bro~!"
"Celine—let go! I can't breathe! Yeah, I missed you too, Cel, but please… air?" Gary gasped.
Finally, she released him. Gary leaned forward, dry sarcasm slipping through. "With a hug like that, you could kill a syndicate."
Celine laughed. "Yeah, I could kill anyone with that hug. Even my ri—"
She was cut off as Miguel and Zion arrived, both in black tactical uniforms. Zion threw up a dap, and Gary pulled him into a hug.
"Gary, my man! You arrived at last. Hope traffic wasn't too bad," Zion said.
Gary chuckled. "Not at all. I forgot how bad traffic is today, but… shit, at least I made it."
He turned to Miguel. "Hey, I'm happy to see you, man."
Before they could continue, Celine jumped in, hands on her waist. "Ah-hah! Should've known you guys drank last night. Why didn't you invite meeeeeee?"
Zion snorted. "We didn't invite you because we know you have alcohol problems."
Celine's face snapped toward him, fiery. "Excuse me? Don't start with your alcohol problem too. You're more hypocrite than me!"
Zion pretended to be shocked. "How dare me—"
"How dare me?! How dare you?!" Celine fired back, smirking.
Gary finally intervened. "Alright, you two—enough. Let's head inside before someone hears us."
Miguel crossed his arms, quietly smiling. "Someone already heard us…"
---
Gate 2 Access
Gary went first, scanning his eyes and face. Access Granted. Welcome, Gary Eliot Borja, Agent 429-J.
Celine scanned next. Access Granted. Welcome, Celine Kayla Kane, Agent 435-J.
Zion went up, but the machine glitched. "DAMN IT!" he shouted.
Miguel laughed. "Even the machine knows you're an alcoholic addict!"
"HEY! I DO NOT DRINK!" Zion yelled.
Miguel gently pushed him aside. "Set aside, man. The machine's broken because of you."
Miguel scanned next. Access Granted. Welcome, Miguel Alejandro Westwood, Agent 424-J.
Finally, Zion tried again. Access Granted. Welcome, Zion Davis Jackson, Agent 426-J.
Inside, the white hallway stretched like a tunnel, heavily guarded, filled with CCTV. Lights extended far into the distance.
Celine walked beside Gary. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"I'm going to the Director Kane. She said she has something to discuss with me."
Celine nodded. "Alright, good luck."
Gary headed to the elevator. Doors opened with a soft ding. He pressed the 9th floor. The elevator rose in silence.
Inside the office: "Come in," Cassandra Kane called.
Gary entered. Cassandra sat at her desk, gray surroundings filled with books, a portrait on the wall, a TV near the door. Gary saluted. Cassandra nodded, signaling he could relax.
"Sit down, Agent 429. You have a new mission," she said.
She handed him a file marked EIS. Gary opened it; his eyes reflected pain, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Target/Subject: Allysa Sydney Wu
Age: 26
Nationality: Half-American, Half-Chinese
Occupation: Hollywood Actress / Model
Background:
Daughter of a prominent director, assassinated by an Underground Elite Society. Relocated to the U.S., presumed unaware of the global criminal network.
Mission Objectives for Agent 429-J:
1. Provide close protection during public appearances and travel.
2. Monitor syndicate activity and identify potential threats.
3. Extract Allysa from high-risk situations if necessary.
4. Gather intelligence on networks linked to her father's assassination.
5. Maintain covert identity to avoid media exposure.
Gary's mind spun. Why am I sent to protect her? Eight years… why now?
Cassandra's voice snapped him back. "Agent 429, any problems?"
"No, not at all, Director. Leave this to me," he said aloud.
"Good. One day of rest. Celine will handle assignments until you're prepared. And protect her at all costs—that is your objective."
"Yes, ma'am," Gary replied.
He walked down the white hallway, hands in pockets. Noise around him felt loud, but his mind was louder.
Allysa… it's been years. She left without saying goodbye… I still hate her for that. I get it, her father… but leaving without a word? It still hurts.
He nearly collided with a wall, snapping back. Why return now? Whether I like it or not… mission is a mission.
The elevator doors slid shut, swallowing him in silence.
End of Chapter 1