I throw a knife in his general direction. He dodges with simplistic ease, sliding his chest to the side. Mike behind me reaches for another knife of mine. I spin back, leg raised. My shin makes rushed contact with his stomach causing him to double over in pain. Stephen frees my knife from the wall and hurls it to me at a high speed. I catch the blade between my two fingers. I give a smirk. Stephen lets out an exasperated sigh. I throw both my knives. They puncture Stephen’s shirt on either side of him, pinning him to the wall. I stroll over, happily picking up the last slice of pizza. I turn around and face my team mates. “You guys kind of suck."
“Yeah, well you’re kind of a douche.” Said Mike from the floor, holding his bruised ribs.
“You could have killed me.” Stephen yanks out the blades from the wall.
“Ha! I wasn’t aiming to kill. I can if you want.” I laugh; Stephen throws my blades back to me. I return them to their sheaths.
“Whatever.” Mike struggles to the couch. “Don’t we have something to do?”
I groan. “Aren’t we supposed to find some girl?”
Stephen raises a brow, “’Some girl’? She’s the daughter of the most wanted man on Earth.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I finish off my pizza. “I just don’t understand why we have to do it.”
“Cause we’re the best assassination group in the world..?” Mike laughs, “Besides, this is going to be fun!”
I flop over the edge of our recliner and yawn. “How the hell do you say that?”
Stephen finds himself over to his white board again. He pops the cap off a marker and scribbles something.
“Well think about it; there’s going to be tons of guards, armed with machine guns and hand grenades, I’m sure, around this girl. She’s going to be very difficult to find.”
“Finding her is relative. Tonight she’s landing in Paris and she’s going to stay at a hotel for the night. Then she’ll be on the way home first thing in the morning.”
“But how exactly do you figure we’ll be able to capture her?”
Ignoring their dispute, I pick up Mike’s half finished beer and chug it down while he’s facing Stephen. He hears me set the bottle down. “Daniel, dude, seriously. They’ll get pissed if they knew you kept drinking.”
“Back off, mate. It’s not, like, a problem…” I shrug it off.
“Three year alcoholism is a problem--” Stephen starts.
“I said, back off.” I rise from the chair and go out to the balcony.
“Daniel, wait, c’mon.”
I sigh. I look over my shoulder. Both of them are standing there, nervous expressions written on their faces. I turn my head back out to the lit up city below me. “You guys, it’d make me feel a lot better if you didn’t get nervous every time I came out here alone.”
“We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine… Besides, kidnapping this b**** is already a suicide mission. We need more guys.” I face them, resting my elbows against the railing. Their muscles relax. Their faces soften.
“We can’t get more guys,” Stephen says. “Like you just said, it’s a Suicide Mission.”
Mike laughs, popping the lid off another beer. “It really is.”
“If we can’t get more men, I suggest we think of a better plan.” Stephen announces from the living room.
“Well, you meant ‘I’, right? That you think of a better plan. I just kill guys.” I shrug. I put my hands on the rail and push up, sitting on the cold bar.
Mike almost has a heart attack. “Daniel, get down!”
This sense of urgency is picked up from Stephen and he glares my direction too. “Whoa, Dan, c’mon.”
I scoff, irritated. “You guys act like I’m just trying to kill myself all the time. Chill the hell out. If I want to fall I will. Otherwise there’s nothing that could knock me off this rail. God.” I look at Mike’s beer. “And I want one of those.”
“No.” they both say.
“I’m seriously fine! I’m not addicted!”
“You’re not, Dan, but you have a very addictive personality.”
Mike agrees. “Like that summer when you…”
The scars on my arm itched. “Whatever.” I hop down from the railing. I look down sheepishly, “I’ll just be in my room then.”
Stephen stops me. “You know…” he searches for something to say. “How about I grab something to make for breakfast, yeah? Cinnamon rolls?”
I nod. “Those sound good.”
He nods, reassuring me with a small smile. “Get some rest. Mike and I’ll put our heads together and think of something for tomorrow.”
I give a quick nod, disappearing to my room. I shut the door softly. I wait a minute. I open the window. They’ve forgotten about my window. I step one foot out, and onto the concrete below. It’s just a block below the widow for like a small garden or something. It supports my weight. So now I use it to climb to the roof. Using a lot of upper body strength, I pull myself up and onto the roof. I swing my legs across, hopping on my feet. I twist my neck, shaking out all the nerves. You’ve done it before. Time to do it again. C’mon. You didn’t even f***ing die last time. Again. I stand on the edge of the roof. Deep breath. The wind blows around me. Actually pushing me forward a bit. With a small amount of effort, I’m tipping over the side of the building. I keep my eyes open until I hit the ground.

I open my eyes. I see the world sideways. Concrete takes up most of my line of vision. I swing my head over to the other side just in time to see Stephen and Mike run up to me. “Are you f***ing serious?!” Mike puts his hand on my forehead. Stephen grabs my wrist and checks my pulse. I sit up completely. “Dude!” Mike yells.
“Why would you do that again?!” Stephen grabs the front of my jacket and shakes me.
I put up my hands in defense. “I was--”
“Wait. You just jumped eight stories… how’re you… perfectly fine?” Mike grabs my arm, confused as ever.
“Guys. I was testing something! You’re going to want to hear about this…”

In the room Stephen was furious. I sat on the couch and he paced in front of me like a madman. “How did you think that was a good idea? Mike, I’m telling you, call the hospital; he couldn’t have been fine after that fall… That fall?!” He looks at me, “Eight stories, Daniel!”
“Listen to me for one second.” I stare back at him. I sigh, “I hate to tell you guys, but last week I, uh, I jumped.” Mike hangs his head in disappointment, “But I hit the ground and nothing hurt. So today I wanted to see if it was a fluke… And it wasn’t.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“What if it was a fluke last week and you ended up killing yourself today?” Mike storms over.
“But it wasn’t.”
“But what if it was?” Stephan agrees. “Who would be our assassin in the next week? You know you’re irreplaceable.”
I give a small smile at his attempt to make me feel better. “Listen, I need you guys to do something for me.” I stand up, yanking a knife out of my pocket. “Cut me.”
“Are you crazy?!”
“Put that away!”
I shake my head, trying to rid them of worry. “I’m pretty sure nothing will happen.” They stay frozen. “I’ll do it myself.” I twist the knife so the blades threatening to touch my stomach.
Mike stops me.