Friends In High Places

By Skybolt06
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Monday, September 21, 2020
Authors note:

Hey guys, really quick I just want to give a quick summary of what this fanfic is about. This is a short action/sci-fi adventure bookish thing, (idk dude) about Katia becoming a secret agent in the year 2027, to find out why famous writer, and her best friend, Quill Weave was publically murdered in a terrorist attack. Katia is trained in the K47 Special Operations Unit hidden deep in the Atlantic Ocean, and given evidence from the crime scene to work with. Katia eventually cracks the code and figures out what’s really been going on, but will she survive long enough to get the truth back to base?

Chapter One: The Ceremony

March 1st, 2027, 6:12 a.m.
K47 Training Unit 833, Atlantic Ocean

“Come on Managan, pick up the pace, you’re falling behind!” Sgt. Foles shouted as Katia’s face hit the ground again, she got up, wiped the dirt and sweat from her eyes and continued to climb the mud-caked rope. You can do this! Katia told herself, answers, that’s why you’re going through this training. It’s already been about a month since the famous writer, and your best friend Quill Weave was killed. Nobody knows why, but the government has their information as always, but it’s classified, as always. So far Katia had done barely anything to improve her shot at knowing the truth, yes she saw what happened, she was there, but she doesn’t know enough to be useful yet.

February 16th, 2027, 3:47 p.m.
Munford Publishing House, NY

It was a day like most, Katia was in New York to visit Quill, but something was… off. There was something in the air, something was going to happen, it felt as if anyone could turn on her at any moment. Pfft, she thought, what am I talking about? Things happen in big cities all the time, there’s nothing to be worried about. Sure there’s probably three thugs following me just waiting until I walk down a dark alley, but what really is the probability of getting robbed in a crowd like this. That was the thing, Quill Weave was about to release her new book, something about why you should protest about something happening on the other side of the world, there was a whole ceremony in about fifteen minutes. You never were really into reading and stuff, especially not news or current events, no offense to Quill of course, but you’ve already made that understanding. You just came to wish her good luck, just like always.

There it was, the familiar building towering over several other skyscrapers, the Monford Publishing House. Quill’s work was always accepted here, she had made the publishers so much revenue that they gave Quill her own office. It was quite a few floors up, but a short elevator ride. Katia exited the elevator, turned right, and walked down the hall to the familiar door with the markings: Q.W.

She opened the door, dropped the celebratory bouquet and was immediately put in a choke hold, a gun put to her head, and her mouth gagged before she could scream. Two men in masks and black clothes were shouting in a different language, they must’ve been expecting her, the CEO of the publishing house doubled over in his seat with a bullet wound near his chest, a pinpoint shot to the heart. One held a smg pointed at a cameraman, the news anchor was also shot, they must’ve been broadcasting the publication. Katia’s hands were bound behind her back and kicked to the floor, they didn’t have any intentions for her. Quill was tied to her chair, tears streaming down her face, she was angled toward the dead CEO, another man was next to her, whispering something in her ear. He turned, “Ah…” he said in a foreign accent, “if it isn’t the wonderful khajiit I’ve heard so much about. You’re just in time for the show.” He smiled wickedly and turned back to the window, “now, I have already discussed our business with our Argonian friend, but it seems she doesn’t want to cooperate with me…” Quill looked from Katia to the man, fear in her eyes, “You can do what you want with me, just don’t hurt her! Katia you can’t trust-” The man struck Quill across the face, “Silence!” he shouted, “I have no intentions with the khajiit, I assumed she could pose some annoyance if we were interrupted. You are the threat, that is why we are here today! To end the rebellion!” He turned Quill’s chair around, the cameraman shakily pointed the camera in her direction. He untied the ropes around Quill and ushered the guards, who firmly held her in place. He turned to the camera, “today,” he said, “the rebellion ends! And the slaughter begins! It begins with her, and won’t stop until the world submits!”

Katia’s eyes widened and she struggled to get free, the terrorist turned around and the guards released Quill. For a split second Quill and Katia had eye contact, Quill braced, and she was kicked through the glass, falling thirty stories to her death. Tears streamed down Katia’s face, the gag blocked out all cries coming from her mouth, the butt of the pistol hit the back of Katia’s head, everything went black…
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Chapter Two: Unanswered Questions

February 16th, 2027, 6:32 p.m.
K47 Medical Center, Atlantic Ocean

Over and over the memory played in Katia’s dreams: Quill Weave falling in slow motion, glass flying around her. She jerked awake in a hospital bed to the suttle beep of her heart monitor, with a bandage over most of her head and left eye. She couldn’t breath through her nose, she must’ve broken it when falling to the ground, her mouth was dry, her mind fuzzy, and her body throbbing. Her face was still wet, and her eyes dry from crying, she wiped the streaks away. Her wrists had marks from the ropes that had cut into her skin, what had happened, did the terrorists leave her there? She looked over at the end table, there was a copy of Quill's book, an early addition, just for Katia, the clock read 6:39. Nobody else was in the room but her, and there was nobody to visit her, at least not anymore. She was still seeing double, but things were clearing up, she also longed for a glass of water, but there was no way to contact anyone. Why did they hook her up to the heart monitor, she wasn’t seriously injured, was she? She uncovered her legs and looked past the hospital gown, one of them was bandaged and a little blood stained. The terrorists must’ve crippled her to make it impossible for her to escape if she came around sooner than expected, just in case. What could she have done anyway, Quill was dead. The feeling of mourning immediately hit her like a semi truck on the highway, Quill was dead, Katia buried her face in her hands and cried. Why was Quill attacked, what did she do to deserve it? She didn’t deserve it, why had the terrorists targeted her?

Just then the door opened, the doctor walked in, he was an elf with long blonde hair and a gentle face, and a pointed nose with glasses resting on top. He wore a long white lab coat and had a short braided goatee, “You are awake I see,” his voice kind, “here, drink this.” He held out a tall glass of water, Katia took it, both hands shaking, drinking it slowly. “There doesn’t seem to be extreme injury, a bullet wound to the left leg, broken nose, and a minor concussion, you should be back to normal in a month or two.” Katia finished the glass and cleared her throat as best she could, “What happened up there?” when she spoke her voice came out croaky and dry. “That,” he said, “I do not know, I am a doctor not the one that found you up there.” “Well,” she responded, “do you know who did find me?” “Someone in the police force I would guess, they evacuated the building but by then the terrorists were already gone.” “doctor-?” Katia was cut off, “please, call me Dr. Enoch,” he said. “Dr. Enoch,” Katia continued, “you said I’d be out in a month or so?” Dr. Enoch thought for a moment, “Well… considering your injuries, you could be out of the hospital in one to two weeks. Stay home and heal, try not to strain yourself physically for a while, but you wouldn’t need to stay here, because that would be a normal case, and this isn’t.” All of a sudden the doctor looked somewhat grim, “Katia, I’m surprised you’ve stayed with me this long, that water had a powerful drug in it, you should’ve already been out by now, but your high metabolism is resisting the effects.” Katia noticed her vision was getting somewhat fuzzy, but she had one more question to ask. “Doctor, why were you trying to put me under?” “Katia,” he said, her senses fading, “you’re going to be held in suspension for one week, then you’ll be given specific training, and if you complete that training, you’ll be given specific orders.” And that was the last thing Katia heard before nodding off into a deep sleep.