Betrayed hearts

"You are getting more reckless, Whitmore." Mr Harrington stated after I gave him a word-for-word account of what happened on my mission 2 hours earlier. I was to seduce a German soldier to get an encrypted code from his hotel room. Unfortunately, not all went to plan. The night ended with me putting a bullet in the heads of four German soldiers' heads and jumping out of a 6-story window with my parachute dress before running to headquarters to stitch up the gash on the inside of my arm. One of the bastards must have got me.

Apparently, I was getting out of hand because, in my mission before that, I put three civilians' lives in danger, not on purpose, mind you, but completed the mission. In the mission before that, I nearly got a building filled with innocent people blown up. Still, I stopped that from happening and completed the mission. Then, in the mission before that, I nearly got myself and my partner/best friend Alice killed, but we are both still alive and well, and I completed that mission too. You get the gist, but you should also note that I always completed the mission.

"I beg to differ, sir; I think I am becoming a better agent," I replied honestly; however, he did not look impressed. He threw a case file on the desk in front of me. It looked important, more important than any of the other cases I had done in the past.

"You and Alice are going to Birmingham, and you will infiltrate the Red Right Hands, in particular Thomas Sinclair." Mr Harrington instructed as I looked at a picture of the man. He was very defined and, I must admit, good-looking. Although I was aware that it was just a picture, I still felt like his icy blue eyes were staring straight into my soul, reading my every thought, feeling my every emotion.

"Ahem." I tore my eyes away from the stare of the man in the picture to see Mr Harrington waiting for acknowledgment of his instructions.

"The Red Right Hands?" I questioned. I had heard of the RRH gang. They were notoriously not to be messed with; some of the stories about them are so brutal it is difficult to decipher truth from rumour. Believe it or not, the more brutal the story, the more likely it is to be true.

"Yes." Mr Harrington answered as I flipped through the case file. I looked at all the family members. Four brothers, a sister, and an Aunty. They were known to be a tight-knit family who ruled the streets of Birmingham, and no one dared to double-cross them. Yet by the sounds of it, that is precisely what I am being asked to do.

"Both of you will go to Birmingham alongside C.I. Campbell, and you and Alice shall get close to the family and report back to Campbell." Mr Harrington explained sternly as both Alice and I nodded in agreement.

"Elizabeth, don't mess this up. You do and that's the last straw. You will be sent to jail for the crime you committed in 1915." Mr Harrington warned as a wave of anxiety crashed over me. Then, a wave of excitement followed – this was a real case.

"I will not mess this up, sir. I shall do everything by the book." That was a lie, but Mr Harrington nodded and returned to his paperwork.

"How should we do this?" I asked Alice as I sipped on my tea. Alice sighed a minute before an idea came to mind.

"There's a pub called the Garrison. I believe the oldest brother owns it, so they are always there. We could get jobs as barmaids and use it as an excuse to get close to the brothers." Alice explained in her thick Irish accent as I nodded my head.

"What shall our back stories be?" Alice asked, and I grinned at her. I loved creating different identities; however, I had a feeling this mission would be complicated enough.

"We keep our same names. You are a woman from Galway who wants to escape after the tragic murder of her father. I am a suffragette banned from her family, wanting to start a new life." I explained, and Alice raised an eyebrow at me.

"Beth, that is practically our real-life stories." I nodded my head in agreement.

"I know, the reason being that if we make it too complex and intricate, we are more likely to slip up, and we cannot afford to do that. They find out we are lying and it's a bullet in our heads." I stated.

"Smart." Alice smiled a little and I grinned back. I think this is going to be a fun mission if it all goes according to plan.

I had actually been to Birmingham once with my parents. I was an only child, adopted actually from a young Gypsy mother who couldn't look after me. I have never met any blood relatives, and I honestly don't plan to.

My only family now is Alice. Once my parents found out I was a 'raging wannabe man trying to change the rules of society with my ill-mannered behaviour.' (also known as being a suffragette) they kicked me out on the streets. I was arrested not long after for throwing bricks at a window; I then starved myself in jail and haven't spoken to my family since.

Once war broke out, I decided to fight for my country. I couldn't be a soldier because I am a woman (go figure). Although my gun skills were incredible, and I was just as strong as the men, I was assigned as a nurse.

The train had come to a stop, and Alice and I looked at each other, trying not to show our nerves but failing miserably. My life and freedom depended on this; depended on me doing the right thing.

"Shall we?" Alice asked as she stood up.

"We shall, " I responded, following her off the carriage as I fixed my purple coat, which covered my long cream dress underneath. We grabbed our suitcases, one in each hand, and walked up the steps to the cobbled streets. Our heels were clacking on the ground like the horses walking past us. I looked around me, taking it all in. My new life.