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Spies and Secrets. (Alpha and Sacred)

“Yeah, used to be. Suddenly up and vanishing like that doesn't really make a lot of spy agencies happy.” She explained as her careful gazing around the area suggested that they were nearing the destination that would finally get them off of this absurdly shitty island. His continued insistence that he had never been a spy was starting to get a bit annoying. “Back there was a team of highly trained killers who launched a sniper, an assault team, and a drone at you. I killed several of them. Right now your choices are to come with me or jump into their arms. Which do you think is a better choice?” Anya explained with her eyes focused on the road. “Do you want proof that I knew you? On your left thigh you have a scar about four inches long with a small rip at the end.” She added as she conveniently forgotten to mention that she had given him that knife wound.
 
"I've shown that scar off before at work. Got it play hockey as a kid. Some shit kicked me with his skate. What does that really prove?" He shot back, his finger absentmindedly rubbing at the scar through the fabric of his shorts.

"This all sounds stupid. Next thing you're going to be telling me that you have some video message I left myself and that you're actually a cyborg alien with three fits or something stupid like that."
 
“You don't have to believe me. I'll show you more later. Just right now focus on what's going on. You have a group of trained killers that are tracking you every move. Is it really a good idea to ditch the person that saved your ass from getting blown off? Speaking of that, your gunplay was a bit too impressive for a mere bartender.” She teased in a slightly mocking tone as she glanced over at him. “The boat is right up here. Will you get on or will this become a problem?” Anya added in a more firm tone.
 
"Well if my choices are a bunch of gun toating government thugs, and a hot blonde with a sexy accent it becomes kind of a no brainer ." he replied with a dismissive shrug. Even if he wasn't sure he trusted this woman she at least hadn't tried to kill him. He wasn't sure it would stay that way but for now his options where limited.
 
“Great to hear. You made a good choice.” She assured him before reaching a stopping point. They were near the ocean, but no boat could be seen at first. That was when she walked over a pile of brush and grabbed up a camouflaged net that she ripped off of the boat. The boat that was waiting was a pretty standard one. It was a motor boat with two large engines in the back. It was colored white and dark blue, with a covering that surrounded the wheel and a below-deck area with a bed and small living quarters for them to use in the boat trip across the Caribbean to Cuba. “Alright, come inside. Get into the cabin and wait there while I get us going. I don't want you exposed right now.” Anya explained as she climbed onto the boat.
 
The boat was not at all what Marty had expected. He had been expecting something big and fancy, not, whatever the hell this thing was. Well it wasn't like he was in a position complain so he followed her instructions and went down into the cramped cabin below deck. He was feeling drained, this whole thing had left him feeling raw and tired and it wasn't long before he had nodded off on the small cot in the corrner.
 
The boat was the kind of thing she was used to. Mid-level, with good power for fast movement, but not a flashy look that would get them a lot of attention. From below he would faintly hear the engine roaring and a moment later movement began as they shot off. They had a good bit of boating ahead of them, so he would have the chance to get quite a bit of rest before they reached their next destination.
 
Below deck Marty slept. His dreams where fitful. Surreal and at the same time familiar. Sitting on a rooftop cradeling a high powered rifle. Watching two men through the weapons scope. The steady movement of the bolt as he worked the first round into place and the firm kick as he squeezed the trigger.

Another room different men and a locked box. Somewhere in the distance the crack of a gunshot and woke, sitting bolt upright and dashing his head on the low bulkhead. He fell back on the bed rubbing his for head where he had hit it before his fingers trailed to the scar on his temple.
 
The thump of his head against the bulkhead was loud enough that the woman that was up on the deck could hear it. She flinched at the sound and down below he would hear the engine turning down slightly so that the ship wouldn't be going too quickly without someone at the helm. She hurried down with an obvious frown emblazoned on her face. “Hey, are you okay? I heard something knocking around down here.” Anya explained as she poked her head in. “You can come up onto the deck if you want a bit of fresh air.” The attractive blonde added. She had just put a lot of effort into saving him and she didn't want him to get fucked up now.
 
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