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The Jane Doe Chronicles: Confidential

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Eckerd chapter.

“Confidential” is the third installment of “The Jane Doe Chronicles,” a mystery series following Jane Doe as she struggles to escape from the Company, an assassin training school–where she was the top student–and as she attempts to piece together the story of her past, dodging a few bullets and making some unlikely friends along the way.

The click of the magazine sliding into place resounded around the small hotel room. I held it out in front of me, aiming the barrel at the dark storm that ravaged the streets outside my window. Satisfied, I wiped off the gun with a rag one last time and gently sat it on the table next to its twin. I ran my hand through my dark hair while looking at the reflection in the rain spattered glass.

The girl looking back was not the same face in the old high school photograph that sat on the bed.  This person was dangerous, even mysterious, with her new guns laid out in front of her, black clothes from head to toe and a glimmer in her eyes that spoke of strategy, suspicion and years worth of pain that betrayed her 19-year-old figure.

I sighed and pushed away from the table, turning my back to the image. I picked up the white folder that sat next to the picture and flipped through the “confidential” stamped pages. It contained only the necessary information that I needed for the mission: address, maps of the facility, security protocol, guard schedules, a summary of what was expected of me, and my pay. There was no information detailing why Mr. O’Connell was paying me $2.5 million plus an additional $2.5 million to Ghost for me to destroy another company’s research. In this line of work though, not knowing everything was part of the job.

After I was confident that I had memorized everything in the file, I tossed it into the tiny metal wastebasket near the door and walked over to the mini-bar that sat under the bulky, outdated T.V. A knock came from the door as I searched the fridge.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“It’s Smith,” I heard from the other side, recognizing John’s British accent.

“Get the hell away from my door!”

I heard a muffled laugh followed by the sliding of the key card. The door swung open to reveal John Smith leaning against the doorway with his constant smirk.

“Now, Janie,” he said. “That’s no way to greet a friend.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call you a friend Smith. More like a nuisance.”

He put a hand to his chest as if he were physically wounded by the statement. “I am offended Jane Doe. After all I have been doing for you, you don’t consider me your friend?”

“Nope. You are my boss…for the time being. Friends don’t hold secrets over the other’s head in order to get them to commit sabotage.” I held up a cold bottle of vodka that had been sitting in the refrigerator door and turned to John. “You want some of this?”

He nodded, striding into the room and picking up a glass from on top of the dresser. I carefully poured him a drink.

“I didn’t know you drank, Jane.”

“I don’t,” I stated, pouring a generous amount of the liquid into the waste basket and over the file. I looked over to John, who had caught onto what I was doing, and he threw me a lighter from his pocket. A touch of the flame and the information turned into ash within seconds.

“Very good,” John said, raising his glass before gulping it down.

“First rule of Company. Don’t leave behind evidence.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s the second?” he chuckled. I raised my eyebrow and glared at him. He was trying to get some information about Company from me. Not going to happen, I thought.

“Don’t trust Ghost members,” I told him with an annoyed tone. This made him burst into laughter. Rolling my eyes, I went back to cleaning my weapons.

I gently picked up the second gun and started polishing, despite it already being clean.

Smith’s voice came from behind me. “You know, you looked good with red hair. Although, I still prefer your classic black.”

I didn’t respond.

I thought over how we had landed in Tampa, FL two days ago. John had sheep-herded me out of the party and onto a private jet after I had agreed to the job. He had given me the file on the plane. He never told me anything about it except to read the file and that the mission would be in three days. I would have asked for answers, but I already knew what the answer would be: confidential. After that, he spoke complete nonsense that I was forced to tune out until we landed on the dark airstrip.

I felt John’s presence coming up behind me. I loaded the gun in my hand and turned, aiming the gun at his heart. He looked unconcerned.

“You know, you are a pretty young woman Jane and, not to brag, but I’m not too bad myself. We could always…”

“I don’t like playing games. Finish that sentence and I pull the trigger, Smith,” I threatened.

He gave me that patronizing smirk. “No you won’t, Jane. I know you won’t kill me.”

“Well, you’re right about the killing part,” I shrugged, aiming lower to his groin. “But I’m not above torture.”  

“Oh, but we wouldn’t want that, Doe,” he said. “After all, I’m the one with all of the information on your past. You might want to be a little nicer.”

He held out his palm for the gun. I growled and gave it to him. He tried to move closer again, but, before he could, I had advanced and kneed him in the crotch. He moaned in pain.

“You want to know rule number two?” I whispered. “Don’t fraternize with other agents, don’t trust anyone and never play games.”

With that I walked past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water onto my face. I heard the door to the room open and close. He left. Good.

I knew it wasn’t the nicest thing and that kneeing him probably was a bit harsh. It wasn’t that I didn’t find John attractive. A person would have to be deaf and blind to not find the man at least a little charming if not a little cocky. However, I had never been with a guy in any way before, dating or otherwise. Being at the academy for Company, I was focused on my work and the knot in my stomach that grew whenever I thought of killing someone kept me on edge. I never had time to be flirty like some of the other girls in my training group.

What’s more, I couldn’t afford to create any ties that would force me to stay in any one place. The only reason I took this mission was so I would have money to live off of for a while and so I can learn more about the past I couldn’t remember.

After tomorrow night, my mission would be done and I would find the first ticket out of town. I had to keep moving.

Lifting my head, I looked up and into the brown eyes of the girl in the mirror. They looked fearful of what would happen if I stopped running.

I would not be a part of Company. Even if it meant that I had to do this job for Ghost; I refuse to be an assassin.

I never wanted to become a killer. Never.

A Lilly loving, pearl wearing, history buff from Long Island, NY, Elizabeth Tomaselli is a Political Science and Journalism major minoring in Marine Science and Italian at Eckerd College. When she's not teaching aerobics and pilates or editing the school newspaper, you can find her hosting Gossip Girl premiere parties or tanning on the dock with her Beta girls. She is a self-professed pink lover with a striking ability to predict storylines in movies and TV shows. Aside from her adoration for Blair Waldorf and Jackie O, Liz enjoys playing tennis, dancing, and participating in family croquet tournaments at the little yellow house on Luther Place. Sometimes called the energizer bunny, she can function on little sleep, however, often requires coffee and Light & Fit yogurt to stay productive. With a big smile and curly brown hair, this senior plans to take over the world, one expensive shoe at a time.