The girls waited in the living room, tension weaving through the quiet air as they waited for Agent David Williams to arrive. When the door finally opened and he stepped inside, a cold authority followed him.

Trella folded her arms, meeting his stare evenly.

Williams exhaled sharply. “So. You said you have something for me regarding the case.”

“Yes, Agent Williams,” Trella replied. “But this time, we want something in return.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You know how our deal works, Moretti. You don’t get to make demands. We cover you — that’s already more than enough.”

“Actually,” Trella said calmly, “it’s only a small favor.”

Williams’ voice flattened. “Listening.”

Trella hesitated, just for a moment. “About the deal… The deal is with all the Fangs. There’s one more you didn’t know about. We want to include her.”

His composure snapped.  “What?! How many of you are still running around?”

“She’s the only one left that we know of,” Trella said. “She was part of the team in the past… and she’s the one with the information.”

“Who?”

“Maya Cortez. She offers full cooperation in exchange for being brought under the same deal.”

Williams exploded. “Cortez?! Are you out of your goddamn minds?! I have her file on my desk for over a year. We’ve been hunting her across half the USA! And now you tell me she’s been here, under my nose the whole time and you want me to just throw everything in the trash and make her one of you?”

Aya’s voice cut through the room.  “We don’t want to make her a Fang. She already is one. The very first one.”

“What?!” Williams stared at her. “She’s enhanced too?!” He froze, the realization sinking in. “That actually explains a lot. No… I have an arrest order. Where is she?”

Silence fell. The girls didn’t move. Slowly, Michelle stepped forward from the back of the room. Williams stared, stunned.

“Please, dad…”

“Michelle?! What the hell are you doing here?! Didn’t you have enough the first time you were here? Why are you letting them drag you into this?”

“Nobody dragged me,” she said softly. “I came because I wanted to. And I want to help.”

“Help? Them?” Williams’ voice trembled with anger. “Michelle, they’re criminals! Monsters!”

“No…” Michelle shook her head. “Maybe they’re not normal girls, but they’re human. And they are a family. And all they want is to keep that family together.”

His voice lowered, wounded. “Do you even know what they are?”

Trella answered for her.  “She knows everything. And she chose to stay.”

Williams’ expression cracked — pain bleeding through his anger.
“Why, Michelle? Why couldn’t you stay out of this? Why can’t you just be safe?”

“I am safe,” she whispered. “And they are my friends.”

He froze. Michelle’s voice trembled, not from fear but from honesty.

“Actually… they’re fun to be around. They care. And that’s something I don’t feel from you much. You’re always buried in work, Dad. Sometimes… it feels like you forget I’m even here.”

The room fell silent. Katya gently rested a hand on Michelle’s shoulder. The others said nothing, letting the truth hang in the air.

“Dad…” Michelle swallowed. “I don’t want to see families break apart. Not theirs. Not ours. Please… if you can’t do it for them, then do it for me.”

Agent Williams’ shoulders fell. The fire left him. He looked at his daughter — really looked — and some part of him gave way.

“Fine…” he muttered. “I’ll see what I can do. But it’s not up to me.” He exhaled. “Regardless, I need to talk to her. Where is she?”

“In the infirmary,” Trella said. “Go easy on her. She is in bad shape.”

Liza guided Agent Williams downstairs. The door shut behind him. Trella let out a long breath.

“Well… that went better than expected.” Trella stated.

Aya snorted. “Better? He looked like someone shoved a cactus down his throat.”

Katya squeezed Michelle’s shoulder gently. “You did good.”

Michelle looked down. “I don’t know… I think I’ve hurt him.”

Samira flopped onto the couch. “So, does this mean Daddy CIA is officially on board with Big Sister Maya joining the family reunion?”

“He’ll fight it,” Aya said. “But he’ll bend. They always bend.”

“Or… we make him bend faster,” Amelie offered.

“Not this time,” Trella replied. “He’ll come around.”

***

Maya kept her word. She told my dad everything she knew: names, hideouts, payment routes, and the layers of the hierarchy she’s aware of. The intel was pretty detailed and useful.

Maya’s plea deal came through. She has been included into the contract. Talia put Maya’s bike together, immediately earning her respect. 

We returned to our normal daily routine. Except now I get to hang out more with my new friends. They opened up a bit more and I wasn’t feeling alone anymore.

I got introduced to Joseph Dawson. He’s something like their caretaker and mission coordinator. After the Organization that created the girls fell apart, he took them and raised them.

I wish the mood were that good at home too… My dad doesn’t like me being around the Fangs. But he sees me happy, so I think he’ll get used to it eventually.

***

The forest exploded with bursts of gunfire — sharp pops echoing across the trees. Michelle pressed her back against a massive boulder, clad awkwardly in full tactical gear.

A bullet smacked the rock beside her, splattering blue paint across her shoulder.

“Too slow, newbie!” Aya shouted from somewhere unseen, her laughter bouncing between the trunks.

Michelle groaned, heart hammering. Why did I let them talk me into this?!

She peeked out— A streak of blue splattered across her vest.

“Hit!” Katya called from a tree branch above, her Dragunov replaced with a paintball rifle.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Trella’s steady voice cut across the field.  “Michelle, don’t focus on surviving. Focus on moving. Keep them guessing.”

Wiping her goggles, Michelle shot out from cover, zigzagging, crouching, firing off two quick shots—

A shriek echoed.
“Aw, come on!” Anya popped up, paint dripping from one arm.

Michelle blinked. “Wait… did I actually hit you?”

Anya pouted. “Beginner’s luck!”

But the others noticed: Katya’s amused chuckle, Mei-Ling’s approving smirk, Aya’s mock-growl.

“Not bad, rookie!” Amelie laughed, hoisting an oversized paintball machine gun. “Might even let you watch my back next round.”

Michelle finished the round coated in paint, but glowing inside. She laughed with them as they trudged back toward the orphanage — not a guest anymore, but one of them.

“Wow! This was fun! You girls are amazing!”

“I know it was,” Aya cackled. “You look like you got run over by Picasso.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“I wish I could see you in real action…” Michelle murmured.

Trella’s eyebrows lifted, but she said nothing.

Talia appeared in the doorway.  “Girls, get changed and go to the briefing room. Joseph called. We have a mission. A drug camp in Mexico.”

***

The ops room hummed with quiet tension. Large monitors glowed with bodycam feeds. Dawson, Williams, and Milena sat like statues, eyes fixed, pens tapping or hands still.

Michelle sat at the smaller rear monitor — breath shallow, eyes wide.

It looked like an action movie. Except it wasn’t…

Flashback.

Dawson’s voice had been low. “Trella told me you’d like to see a mission first hand. And she was… persistent.”

“I-I mean, yes,” Michelle had stammered. “But I don’t want to interfere.”

“Trella thinks highly of you,” Dawson said. “ You know what? I’ll allow it. But if you start to feel unwell, leave the room. And stay silent.”

She’d only nodded.

Back to the ops room.

“Com check,” Dawson ordered.

The voices chimed through the speakers:

“Uzi here, stormfront ready.”
“Shadow, left wing, ready.”
“Lotus, right wing, ready.”
“Beast. Fireworks ready.”
“Ghost. Ready.”
“Fixer here! Eyes in the sky! Good to go.”
Trella gave the final confirmation. “All green.”

“Mission command is ready,” Dawson said.

“All green. Go,” Williams confirmed.

Trella gave the signal. Anya stormed the front, dual Uzis roaring. Her cam shook with close-range chaos — muzzle flashes, bodies dropping. Amelie followed, her BAR thunderous, scattering men like paper scraps. Liza’s P90 barked in controlled bursts, dropping threats before they could turn. A tent burst into flames.

Michelle gasped. “Oh my god…”

Then came wave 2. As the narcos scramble toward the center, suddenly two feeds cut in from the flanks. Aiko’s cam tilts low, sprinting — then a flash of steel, a man’s throat opens and the screen sprays red. Mei-Ling’s kukri arcs in her feed, another scream cut short. Both girls vanish and reappear in shadows, slicing from behind. On Michelle’s monitor, the cartel fighters collapse like wheat in a scythe field.

Milena murmured, “Discipline broke. They’re panicking.”

Then came wave 3. The survivors try forming a gunline. Bad idea. Aya’s M79 thumps — an explosion rips their cover apart. Trella’s shotgun roars, dropping anyone staggered from the blast. Samira darts in, planting a charge on a cargo container. Five seconds later, the whole drug stash turns into a huge fireball. Michelle trembled, eyes glued to the screens.

Katya’s sniper feed flickered on. A man running toward a jeep — crack, his head snaps back. Two trying to regroup behind a truck — crack, crack. Both down. A pair of RPG gunners scramble up a dune — crack, crack. Michelle gasps each time the screen jerks, every bullet final.

Maya’s voice chimed in: “Clock says 6:40. Pull out, girls.”

Talia’s drones swept the burning wreckage.

“Targets neutralized. Zero survivors. No alarm raised,” Williams said.

“As expected,” Dawson murmured.

“Mission accomplished,” Trella confirmed.

The last feed went dark. Silence swallowed the room. Williams slowly closed his notebook. Dawson gave a single nod. Milena leaned back, smirking faintly.

“So… how did you like the freak show? Don’t forget to breathe.”

Michelle startled, gasping in a shaky breath. Williams was watching her — worried, conflicted. Michelle hated that part of her had… liked it. The precision. The storm the Fangs unleashed. Terrifying, yes — but brilliant.

They’re… incredible, she whispered.

“That’s one way to put it,” Milena said.

They moved like… lightning, Michelle thought. Like they already knew every step.

Her father’s eyes hardened. You shouldn’t have seen this, the silence said. But Michelle didn’t look away.

***

The vans rolled to a stop outside. Engines cooled. Boots crunched against gravel. Michelle stood at the door, trying — and failing — not to look excited.

“What, waiting for a parade?” Aya teased, earning laughter from the group.

Trella walked up. “So… how was it? Your first time in the control room…”

“It was… incredible,” Michelle admitted. “I don’t even have words.”

“How many times did you throw up?” Mei-Ling smirked.

“None! Not once!”

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Aya said approvingly.

Trella studied her carefully, then nodded. “You handled yourself better than I thought.”

Michelle blushed. “I was just sitting in a chair.”

Trella shook her head. “Most people wouldn’t be able to watch what we do without panicking. You didn’t.”

Michelle hesitated. “Does… that mean you’re okay with me being there? With me… knowing?”

“If I wasn’t,” Trella replied, “you wouldn’t have been in that room.”

A faint smirk. “Don’t make me regret it.”

***
One week has passed. The girls were sent on another mission — a terrorist cell near Jersey responsible for several bombings. Their laptops needed to be secured before they could destroy them. And again, Michelle got to watch.

The girls moved through cramped corridors of an abandoned apartment building — silent, lethal. They took down the enemy without making noise. On one of the floors they ran into heavier resistance. Suddenly the feed flickered. Michelle leaned forward. Something twitched on the corner cam — a flicker of shadow. Something moved that shouldn’t have.

“There—behind the wall,” she said. “Someone’s hiding.”

Her dad didn’t react. Michelle’s voice sharpened.
“Dad! He’s there! Look — in that crack, left corner! He’s doing something!”

Williams frowned, looked… He knows her quirks, the way she notices things others don’t. For half a heartbeat, doubt and duty clash in his head. But then he saw it too.

“Trella,” he barked into the comms. “Left side, stairwell. Hidden contact, possible detonator.”

Trella didn’t question him. Aya burst through the wall with heavy gunfire. A man collapsed through the fake wall, wires slipping from his hands. Michelle exhaled slowly. Dawson glanced at her — just a flick of his eyes. Heavy with unspoken acknowledgment. Williams looked too, this time with something like respect.

A moment later, Trella’s voice came through the comms: “That last one… we didn’t sweep that corner. How did you know?”

Williams said nothing. Dawson was a statue. Milena smirked.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” she drawled. “Your little guest analyst here has eyes sharper than your scopes.”

Trella’s voice tightened with surprise. “Noted…”

Aya and Trella exchanged a silent look — half impressed, half bewildered. And Michelle sat back, steady, glowing quietly.

Williams exhales, trying to mask the storm in his head. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want it. But he can’t deny what just happened.