Kat smiled at Devin’s comment before she turned to Nikki. “ I feel you Nikki. My entire family has never learned to knock. What’s worse they always spring random training sessions so normal dinner-time can turn into a scene from Mission Impossible real quick.”
Smiling at the both of them, she nodded a quick goodbye before opening the door into her room. She was glad she had run into Devin and Nikki, they were easy to talk to and she was really looking forward to spending the year with them.
Pulled from her musings by the room she couldn’t help but let out a gasp. She had assumed that the room would be a bare bones military-esque room but it was an impressive sight. Although small, the room boasted a closet, under the bed storage, a mirror, a desk and a spacious bed. Considering she was 5’2, the twin sized bed was more than comfortable. Spying a white piece of paper she read through the instructions for the hidden weapons cache and S.P.I.G.A’s gun and weapon requirements before she tested the new storage system out.
With a quick press of a button (fingerprint enabled of course), her mirror slid to the side to reveal a hidden storage unit. She tried to keep her cool, she really did, but this was pretty amazing. How can this place keep getting better? she thought as she ran the pad of her index finger over the velvety smooth lining inside.
Spying her suitcase pushed neatly to one side, she made her way over there and started to pull everything out. Hanging up her uniform in the closet, she stored the rest of her clothes before turning to the personal effects. Placing the photograph she had taken of her family on her 14th birthday a couple months she couldn’t help but smile. This picture was a perfect representation of her family— her mother was laughing at her own joke, loudly and with no pretense. The twins, Angel and Elena, were shoving each other playfully while her father was jokingly eye rolling at whatever her mother had said. Valentina had a large plate of food and was swatting Matias’ attempts to grab an empanada.
Sparing only one more moment to dwell in her homesickness, she turned back to her suitcase and reached for her firearms. She placed both her Glock 36 at eye-level for easy access. These Glocks were the ones she was probably going to be using on most missions. Their custom-fit Jarvis suppressors were kept in a black jewelry bag that she hooked on the peg besides the guns. She had been practicing on these Glocks for the past few years and as such, they felt comfortable in her grip. Her mother had first introduced the Glock 36, the same one she herself carried. She remembered those afternoon training sessions as her mom and her would hole up in the basement with Top 40’s music playing, and snacking as they had gone over the finer details of using firearms and the Glocks.
The next item was her Bren. She lovingly stroked the barrel before she carefully hung it up. A gift given by her grandfather right before she had left for S.P.I.G.A, it was one of the few precious mementos she just had to take with her— regardless of its large size. When she was younger she would sit on her grandpa’s lap and listen, wide-eyed, to his stories of World War II. Of how this gun had saved his life as that soldier had stood over him; ready to shoot. She still shuddered everytime she tried to picture her 16 year-old grandpa, staring down the barrel of a gun— almost certain he was going to die.
She then moved on Pixie, her Hi-Power Browning. This had been her first gun, a gift from her father a couple years ago. Pixie had started her on her love for firearms and since then, she was glad to say she had improved. She remembered being proud as she hit the target, not even close to where she had aimed. She remembered sneaking into the basement and practicing daily. In between her football practice and Model UN, she would come home and work with Pixie. And now here she was. It was still crazy to think that after years of dreaming she was here.
She picked up the books Elena had given her, a mix of books in Spanish, French, English, Russian and Mandarin. Her sister had always been the linguist in her family and had often taken the time to coach Kat. This was most likely her sister's subtle prod to keep practicing. Flipping quickly through the titles as she set up the books she was glad to see some favorites, Gabriel Garcia Marques and Papillon by Henri Charriere, among the heavier tomes of Proust and Chekov.
Setting up her charger, and making sure her phone hadn’t died in the interval, she placed her laptop and grabbed the candy she had promised just as she heard a knock on the door.
She opened the door to reveal Devin and Nikki waiting outside. “Perfect timing! I’ve got the bounty,” she said, imitating a pirate’s accent as she held up a baggie with Chamoy, a bunch of British candy and the best Scottish fudge, Mrs. Tilly’s.
“ Yeah Devin I agree. Although I love cooking, Ramen is always my go-to when I'm tired. Ant normally I’d agree Nikki but Chamoy is probably the best and worst candy. It’s essentially chili and salt that gives you heartburn but it’s so worth it,” she elaborated. “It’s the best way to die, I promise. So try it if you dare,” she challenged Devin and Nikki as a smile quirked her lips.
@World Traveler @melissahart
