The Spirit of Christmas

Chapter I: The Mission

Snow was falling from the sky, slowly turning everything white around a prosperous suburb. It was early morning and there were few cars on the road, but decorations were already everywhere. The Christmas Holidays were here.

Outside one of the houses stood two men. They were both police officers, wearing plain blue uniforms. They were rubbing their hands together and trying to keep themselves warm. One of them peered inside the house, which had large, open windows. Inside, a mother and daughter were putting the finishing touches on their Christmas tree. The mother was a middle-aged woman, looking tired but content, her hair dangled and messy but with a smile that was warm and sincere. The daughter was just a young girl – no more than five years old, with wide, innocent eyes and lips that seem to have never known a frown.

The child leaned down and picked up a gift under the Christmas tree. It was wrapped in green paper and tied off with a bright red ribbon. It was obviously a teddy bear because of the shape, and the child began fondling it, as if she could no longer wait before opening the gift. The mother, noticing the child’s actions, seemed to admonish her daughter and told her it was not yet time. Defeated, the little girl quickly put the gift back under the tree. Then, they headed for another room, leaving the policemen’s sight.

“They don’t look dangerous to me.,” said one of the policemen, his face a mask of worry. His partner shrugged before responding.

“It doesn’t matter. The husband is a suspected terrorist. We’re taking them in.”

“I know, but…”

Their conversation was interrupted as they noticed a slender young woman heading towards them. She was wearing a thick brown coat, with her hands tucked in her pockets. Her hair was long, blonde, and straight, while her skin was light in tone. As she walked closer to the police officers however, they immediately noticed two things about her.

Firstly, they noticed that she was rather short. Both officers were taller than her, she being no more than a few inches taller than five feet. However, her small stature was easily offset by the other feature they noticed – her eyes. They were cold blue eyes, one that gave off no warmth, lacked any innocence, and seemed to promise horrible consequences for whoever got in her way. Just by the eyes alone, the two policemen knew that their wait was over.

“Are you from the Agency?” the first officer asked.

The woman didn’t speak in response. Instead, she merely nodded and flashed her ID. The first officer, nervous, gulped visibly. The other was calmer and merely nodded before responding.

“Is it time then?” said the second officer.

Again, the woman didn’t reply with words. She merely nodded once more.

The two officers exchanged a look and nodded in agreement. Both of them drew their guns. The woman frowned.

“… Is there a problem ma’am?” the second officer asked.

For once, she spoke. “Hand me your gun.”

“Ma’am?”

“I forgot to bring my gun,” she said slowly, “I’m taking yours. I’ll give it back later.”

Both officers looked at her incredulously, but she merely glared back in response. Reluctantly, the second officer handed over his weapon.

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” the second officer quipped, “Whatever the Agency wants, the Agency gets.”

The woman ignored the quip and took the revolver, before she started taking it apart. She took out the bullets, examined the barrel, and looked at the trigger mechanism. After a few seconds of inspection, she quickly put the gun back together again. She looked visibly displeased and turned to the first officer.

“Your partner is sloppy. The gun is dirty.”

Both officers were about to open their mouths to protest, but a single glare quickly silenced them both. She held out her hand in front of the first police officer, as if asking him to hand over his gun as well. Reluctantly, he complied.

The woman repeated her inspection with the second revolver, quickly taking the gun apart and putting it back together again. Looking satisfied, she handed the gun back.

“Better. You take point.”

The two officers nodded in unison, and they took up positions around the door. The first officer reached for the knob, but to his surprise the door wasn’t locked. He opened the door and rushed inside, gun drawn. He had barely left the door when he heard a sound that chilled him to the bone.

He heard his partner scream out in pain, followed by the sound of a body falling to the ground. Turning around, he saw the woman standing over his fallen partner, holding the officer’s own gun over him like a club. In panic, the policeman raised his gun and aimed for the woman’s face. Her cold expression did not change even as he pulled the trigger.

For the woman, it should have been the end. But there was just one problem.

Nothing happened.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, “But I wasn’t just inspecting your gun.”

Before the officer could react, the woman charged him. She threw an uppercut with her right hand that caught him squarely on the jaw, sending him flying into the air. A moment later, he smashed into the floor, unconscious and with a dislocated jaw.

The woman began fondling the fingers on her right hand, which were now swelling red from the force of the punch. She tried to not wince from the pain, but a tiny hint of anguish appeared on her face.

Suddenly, she realized that she was no longer alone, as the mother walked into the room, carrying a stack of plates. Shocked, the mother dropped the plates, causing them to shatter into pieces on the floor.

Coldly, the woman stared at the mother, who was too shocked to either move or speak. The only resistance the mother could offer was the terror on her face. For a few awkward seconds, there was only silence in the room.

Finally, the woman spoke.

“Listen, if you want to live, you shall do exactly as I say.”