Mick had never forgotten the day he was dispatched to top security. No one had told him the details about it until that day, so he assumed he would be assigned to be a bodyguard for a new millionaire IT entrepreneur. There were so many of them now, and Mick had been keeping up with the world’s situation even when he trained in a secluded forest. He had heard that many young rich people were moving into Silicon Valley and that they needed more guards. 

He signed the contract only because the annual salary was over two hundred thousand dollars for a minimum of five years. He had been waiting for such an opportunity by spending his twenties training. Also, since it wasn’t about risking his life in dangerous African or Arab countries, he didn’t hesitate. 

When he signed the contract, he realized that his rank was only third class. Part of the deal was that Mick would stay at the training station as he belonged to Whitewater, the company that operated the place. His job was training himself until the clients called and he was sent.

One day, the main instructor of the training center called Mick. Since everything had been kept secret, it was his first time meeting his fellow operatives. They all ranked high in training performance and some of them were even from special forces, so Mick was proud to be one of them. 

Everyone was curious about what they would be doing, so they exchanged information while they were in the vehicle to the job. They were all third-class, and it seemed that the job was different from what Mick had expected. The Whitewater employee who had been assigned to command his team reminded Mick of T-1000 in <Terminator 2> as he was wearing a black suit and sunglasses. He was the type who didn’t show his feelings at all. Mick stayed silent as it wasn’t the right time to joke around about the old movie.

“Those who do the wet job[1] in Langley are like that.” 

Paul whispered to Mick. Paul was the guy who had been given a dishonorable discharge from the Green Berets. 

Langley? CIA? Mick widened his eyes.

“Are we working for the government?” Mick asked.

“What if we are? Are you going to bite them?” 

Paul giggled and didn’t seem to care much. He continued, “I guarantee that this is much better than going to Africa.”

Mick nodded because it seemed safer than being shot by rebels while protecting a diamond mine, engaging in a gunfight to take up oil fields, or sweeping Somalian pirates.

Two days later, the commander spoke for the first time when the operatives arrived at an Arizona motel. 

“You will hand in all items that can reveal your identities.”

It was more mandatory than optional. There were operatives from different companies who got to the motel earlier, and their muscular physiques, movements and vibe clearly showed that they had received military training. 

“New agents will follow the orders of the second-class agents. Listen while you hand in your stuff. The only two things we want from you are secrecy and complete obedience. Those who cannot follow this are more than welcome to leave right now. The contract will be automatically broken, and we will provide the transportation fee for you.”

The operatives weren’t the type who would be pressured by the tension, but no one flinched including Mick. The salary of the contract was too high to quit as the amount was only available for special forces when they actually fought on a dangerous battlefield. 

“What are we going to do?” one of them asked.

“Catch a cat,” the commander replied.

Of course, they all knew the ‘cat’ was a codename, and Mick began to have an idea of what was going on. He had heard that firms employing bounty hunters were strict and paid very well. It was highly likely that the target was someone who had fled after not paying back the bail.

When the commander and second-class agents left, Mick shared his thoughts with his experienced colleagues, but they were dismissive of his idea. They thought they were going to work for a secretive institution because their operation method resembled an intelligence agency. Until then, Mick thought big pay came with a price.

The next day, the operatives were transferred to a different location and received orders to load and stand by. The van was filled with bulky men, and Mick was one of them. However, they weren’t put into play even after a considerable amount of time passed. The commander left without any instructions, and they all waited tensely since they were armed. 

Meanwhile, Mick was tangled in his thoughts. 

What if the client is actually a criminal organization? Or the government’s covert agency? In any case, how will the legal problems be handled after I fire? Should I just give up and run away now?

Mick noticed he wasn’t the only one trapped in thoughts as his fellows started grimacing and showing dissatisfaction. Then, Paul whispered, “Don’t even think about it. It’s too late. These people aren’t sloppy.”

“What do you mean?” Mick asked.

“Do you see the same van over there? Shooters and cleaners must be there, and they will take care of us if we try anything dumb. Even if we die, we’re on the same boat,” Paul answered.

“Fuck.”

“We will figure out if we are actually fucked up or not…What’s this?”

Paul opened his eyes wide as a silver hue swept through the car, and Mick thought it was such a beautiful sight. It was unbelievable but was an incredibly fantastic scene. However, the silver light quickly disappeared. Mick had stretched his arm out to touch the hue but now found he couldn’t move from that position.

“I can’t move!” Mick shouted, and everyone else was experiencing this weird phenomenon.

“What the hell is this?”

“Everyone, calm down!”

“I can’t even move my fingers!”

An uproar broke out in the car. It was then that Mick heard a sound from the door handle of the van. Someone was trying to open the door but found it locked. The heavily tinted windows broke, and one hand suddenly came in through the window and unlocked the car. Everyone’s attention was turned to the intruder, and he was a young man wearing a hood to cover his face. The intruder schemed through the car and slit the neck of the nearest operative. It was such a meaningless death as it happened so suddenly. Everyone could tell that the intruder had malicious intentions, and Mick became speechless. The agents were killed one by one, but Mick couldn’t do anything. This was the first time he had felt such fear as the only thing he could do was blink like a pig waiting to be slaughtered. The intruder was sloppy which made it even more frightening. Blood and screams filled the van after each clumsy slash of the blade. 

“Please…don’t kill me…”

Paul begged when he realized it was his turn. However, the intruder grabbed his neck and thrust his knife into it. Paul’s blood splashed on Mick’s face, and the intruder smiled as he obviously enjoyed his kill. Or perhaps, he enjoyed killing those who were chasing after him. It was Mick’s turn now, and the intruder leaned over and said as if he was soothing a three-year-old child, “It’s a pity.”

Mick closed his eyes tight since he couldn’t look directly at the shiny blade, but he wondered what the intruder meant. Then, Mick heard gunshots and the intruder had disappeared when he opened his eyes. The van across the street that Paul mentioned noticed the situation and fired the gun toward the intruder, but he had already run away. 

Mick was promoted to a first-class agent with a much higher salary. This only happened because he was the only one who witnessed the cat. He now knew where he had been assigned to and what he was paid to do. There was a menace in the world that had to be killed. 

***

Mick was still scared even after a few weeks, and it was a nightmare he never wanted to experience again. Something supernatural had paralyzed him, so he couldn’t move, and his dread of that unknown force lingered. However, he noticed that another cat with similar capabilities wanted to kill the intruder, and the cat was coming to New York. Mick was waiting as the firm’s representative, and he saw me walking toward him. Mick got up after a gulp and said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mick seemed to have somehow seen the malicious cat in me, probably because I had an impassive face.

“Are you alone?” I asked.

“The rest are standing by in the car. I’m honored to meet you in person,” Mick said.

“What’s your name?” 

“It’s Mick.”

I remembered his name from the report and nodded.

“Don’t be nervous. We are not going to catch the cat today,” I reassured him.

Mick was already aware as he had heard it. However, he knew it would be something similar to that since I had gathered more than ten first-class agents.

1. a euphemism for murder or assassination. ☜