SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery

"The other operative is some guy called Damon Trev. In all honesty even I don't know much about him since he's relatively new, but apparently he's more than capable."

The answer kind of shocked me. I hadn't seen someone with that name yet and furthermore he was even a mystery to Milan, but that's fine. At least now I had a name to work with. If someone introduced themselves as Damon Trev then I could trust them.

But right now, the gymnasium felt suffocating even after the assassins had left. Every shadow seemed to harbor potential threats, every sound amplified by the knowledge of what Milan and I had just overheard. I needed to get out of there, but more importantly, I needed to do it without arousing any suspicion from the faculty members who were undoubtedly watching for any unusual behavior.

"I'm going to head back the way I came," I whispered to Milan as he pretended to organize equipment near his office. "We can't be seen leaving together, and I need to maintain the appearance that I was just exploring the facilities."

Milan nodded without looking directly at me. "Be careful. And remember to act natural once you're back in the main building. You're supposed to be the distinguished guest speaker."

Moving carefully through the shadows beneath the bleachers, I made my way back toward the emergency exit I'd used earlier. Instinct remained on high alert, constantly scanning for any indication that someone might be watching or following me. The last thing I needed was to be spotted emerging from a supposedly empty gymnasium by one of the assassins we'd just overheard.

The exit opened silently, depositing me back into the overgrown side path that ran along the exterior of the building. The vegetation here was thick enough to provide excellent cover, but I still moved with extreme caution as I retraced my steps toward the abandoned laboratory building.

The window I'd used to leave the campus earlier was still open, exactly as I'd left it. I climbed through with relative ease, finding myself once again in the dusty, neglected chemistry lab that served as my unofficial entrance and exit point. The irony wasn't lost on me that the assassins had chosen a similar location for their evening meeting - apparently abandoned laboratories were popular choices for immoral activities.

Instinct guided me through the path as I made my way back toward the main campus areas. Every corridor junction, every stairwell, every potential blind spot was carefully evaluated before I proceeded. The skill had become second nature by now, an unconscious process of threat assessment that had saved my life more times than I cared to count.

By the time I emerged into one of the main hallways of the academic building, I had mentally shifted back into my cover identity. The casual exploration of the facilities, the mild interest in the school's layout and programs, the approachable demeanor of someone who was genuinely invested in helping young people achieve their potential.

"Mr. Vale!"

The voice belonged to Principal Whitfield, she was walking quickly down the hallway toward me, carrying a manila folder that she held with the careful attention of someone handling important documents.

"Principal Whitfield," I replied, offering her the warm smile that had become part of my public persona. "I hope I'm not causing any disruption with my impromptu exploration of your facilities. The campus is quite impressive."

"Not at all, Mr. Vale. In fact, I owe you an apology." She reached me and extended the manila folder, her expression slightly flustered. "I'm so sorry for making you wait this long to receive your schedule for the week. Between the administrative meetings, the last-minute preparations for your visit and Derek's paintball incident, everything has been running behind today."

I accepted the folder and glanced at the neatly typed schedule inside. Speaking engagements with different grade levels, faculty meetings, a special assembly, and several smaller group sessions with students who had been selected for additional motivational support. It was a comprehensive itinerary that would keep me busy and visible throughout my time at Hudson Heights.

"Please don't worry about it," I replied, closing the folder and tucking it under my arm. "I actually didn't mind stepping in to help with the class earlier. The students were very engaged, and it gave me a good sense of the energy and potential in your student body."

We exchanged a few more pleasantries about the school's programs and philosophy, but I could sense that Principal Whitfield had other responsibilities demanding her attention. After expressing my appreciation for the warm welcome and confirming the next day's schedule, I politely excused myself and began making my way toward the main entrance.

The hallways were starting to fill with faculty members and staff as the school day officially began. I nodded politely to several people I didn't recognize, maintaining the friendly but professional demeanor expected of a visiting speaker. None of them gave any indication of being anything other than what they appeared to be, but after the conversation Milan and I had overheard, I found myself analyzing every interaction for signs of deception.

As I approached the main entrance, I could see through the large windows that faced the parking area. The scene outside looked perfectly normal - parents dropping off late-arriving students, delivery vehicles making their rounds, maintenance workers tending to the landscaping.

It was nice to know that there was dozens of operatives, all maintaining their cover identities while providing overlapping fields of observation and protection. Anthony's people were professionals, and their presence was both reassuring and sobering. The level of resources being devoted to this operation indicated just how seriously the government was taking the assassination threat...Though I'm confused on why the Prime Minister McLeod would help me so willingly since he betrayed me during the United Nations meeting.

I pushed through the main entrance doors and began walking across the campus grounds toward the parking area. Several of the disguised operatives glanced in my direction as I passed, brief acknowledgments that were so subtle they would be invisible to anyone who wasn't specifically looking for them. Each glance was followed by an immediate return to their cover activities, maintaining the illusion that they were simply ordinary citizens going about their daily routines.

Marcus was waiting beside the limousine in the designated visitor parking area, standing at attention in his perfectly pressed chauffeur's uniform. Despite the formal appearance, I knew that Marcus had to be far more than just a driver. His background with Anthony in personal protection and tactical operations made him an integral part of my security detail, someone who could transition from driver to bodyguard to tactical support in seconds if the situation required it.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Vale," Marcus said as he opened the rear door of the limousine. "I trust your initial visit went well?"

"Very productive, thank you," I replied, settling into the leather seat as Marcus closed the door behind me. "Let's head home. I have some preparation to do for the rest of the week."

The limousine pulled smoothly out of the parking area and onto the main road that would take us back to the city. I watched through the tinted windows as Hudson Heights Educational Academy receded behind us, already mentally reviewing everything Milan and I had discovered and planning for the challenges that lay ahead.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, the phone in the limousine began ringing with the distinctive tone that indicated a secure line. Marcus glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"That would be Anthony, sir. Shall I answer it?"

"Please do. Put it on speaker."

Marcus activated the hands-free system, and Anthony's voice filled the passenger compartment with the crisp efficiency that characterized all of his communications.

"Good afternoon, Boss. I've received Milan's full report regarding today's intelligence gathering. I'm currently factoring in the new information to devise an updated plan of action."

"What's your assessment of the situation?" I asked, settling back in the seat as the city skyline began to appear on the horizon.

"The threat level has increased, but it's still within manageable parameters. The confirmation of potentially 4 or more embedded hostiles complicates the tactical picture, but it also provides us with more opportunities for intelligence gathering and potential intervention."

"Is it still safe for me to continue with the scheduled appearances at the school?"

There was a brief pause as Anthony considered the question. "I believe so, yes. We still have hundreds of agents providing external security, and with 2 operatives maintaining internal surveillance, you'll have layered protection. Additionally, based on the conversation you overheard, the hostile team is likely to require at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours to finalize their decision regarding their next course of action."

It made sense from a logical point of view. The assassins were clearly professional, but they were also cautious enough to recognize that operating within a school environment required careful planning and coordination with their team members.

"Understood. What about extraction procedures if things go sideways?"

"Multiple contingencies are in place. Marcus has been briefed on emergency protocols, and we have rapid response teams positioned at strategic locations throughout the area. You'll never be more than three minutes away from tactical support."

I nodded, satisfied with Anthony's thorough approach to the security arrangements. There was one more thing I wanted to clarify, however.

"Anthony, when did Milan get his job back with the government?"

Another pause, this one longer than the previous one. When Anthony spoke again, there was a hint of amusement in his typically professional tone.

"Ah, that. Milan was reinstated approximately 12 weeks ago, around the time when countries were publicly supporting you in some way or form."

"But he was fired for cause. Supporting me when the government considered me a threat. Being fired is supposed to be permanent. It's a mark on someone's record that prevents them from ever getting hired by someone again."

"That's true under normal circumstances," Anthony replied. "However, but it's not like they can't get hired, it's just that employers don't want people like that, but we don't mind and Boss...it's worth remembering that we work for the government, Reynard. When the political winds shift and previous decisions are deemed to have been... overzealous... records can be modified or expunged entirely."

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head at the casual way Anthony described what amounted to institutional corruption. "So they just erased his firing from existence?"

"Essentially, yes. Milan's service record now shows an extended leave of absence for personal reasons, followed by his voluntary return to active duty. His security clearance was never officially revoked, merely suspended pending review."

The cynical part of me wasn't surprised by this revelation. The same government apparatus that had been willing to brand me as a potential threat was equally willing to rewrite history when it became politically convenient to do so. But in this case, I couldn't bring myself to be too critical of the corruption involved.

"Well, I suppose I can't complain about the outcome," I said finally. "Milan being fired in the first place was insane. He was a great instructor."

"Agreed. And having him available for this operation has already proven invaluable, as evidenced by this morning's intelligence gathering."

We continued talking for another 30 mins or so, before the limousine was now navigating the city streets, approaching the upscale district where my penthouse was located. Through the windows, I could see the familiar landmarks that indicated we were almost home.

"I'll review the updated tactical assessments you send over and prepare for tomorrow's schedule," I told Anthony. "But for now, I need some time to handle other preparations."

"Understood. I'll have the briefing materials delivered within the hour. And Boss? Excellent work today. The intelligence you and Milan gathered has significantly improved our tactical picture."

"Thank you. Talk to you later."

Marcus ended the call and continued driving toward the residential tower that housed my penthouse. The building was one of the tallest in the district, offering both luxury accommodations and excellent security features that made it ideal for someone in my position.

The elevator carried me smoothly to the top floor, where my penthouse occupied the entire level. As the doors opened directly into my foyer, I was immediately struck by the unusual quiet that greeted me. Normally, coming home during the day meant encountering at least one or two of the girls, but today the main areas seemed to be empty.

"Sienna? Camille? Evelyn? Alexis?" I called out as I made my way through the expansive living room toward the kitchen area. No responses came from any of the bedrooms or common areas, which was unusual but not necessarily concerning. They all had their own schedules and responsibilities that sometimes took them away from the penthouse during the day.

But as I approached the offices, I could smell something that indicated I wasn't completely alone in the apartment.

"Alexis?" I called out, recognizing the distinctive scent of chemical compounds that meant she was working on one of her medical projects.

"In the lab," came her response from the direction of the converted bedroom that served as her medical and research facility.

I made my way down the hallway to the room that Alexis had transformed into a sophisticated medical laboratory.

There I found her in her office, she was standing at one of the work stations, wearing a lab coat over her casual clothes and safety glasses that gave her an intensely focused appearance. Various beakers, test tubes, and monitoring equipment were arranged on the counter in front of her, and the air carried the sharp smell of chemical reactions in progress.

"Where is everyone else?" I asked as I entered the lab, being careful not to disturb any of her ongoing work.

"The 3 of them went grocery shopping for whatever they needed. Though Sienna would've definitely been able to lift all the groceries by herself." Alexis replied without looking up from her work. "They should all be back by this evening."

I nodded, settling into the chair that had been positioned near her work area for exactly these kinds of conversations.

"Alexis, I wanted to ask you about something. Do you have the materials ready to continue working on Poison Resistance and Pain Resistance? Based on what happened today, I think I might need to be more prepared for potential attacks over the next few days."

She finally looked up from her work, showing me intense eyes that I'd seen back when I was hospitalized and she was taking care of me. A slow smile spread across her face as she gestured toward the equipment she had been working with.

"Funny you should ask," she said, her voice carrying the satisfaction of someone who had been anticipating exactly this conversation. "I've been waiting for you to come back all day. I'm ready for the next experiment."