This is the Best Day Ever

My name is Anne Romano. I'm a sophomore in high school. I'm 15 years old, five foot two (157.48 centimetres), with long, black hair and light caramel eyes. I weigh 128.4 pounds (58.2412603 kilograms). I'm also an expert mercenary.

Mostly I do small jobs, like kidnappings, ever since my best friend was KIA in a war he was hired for. This is a story about one such job.

It was a Tuesday night. I had two friends, Jenna and Aubrey, over my house for a History project.

My phone rang and I froze. No longer was my mind in the amazing, informational world of the past. Now I was in business mode. I looked over to my friends and told them that I had to take this call. I ran to the bathroom and opened the phone.

"This is the Shadow. What do you need?"

"Hope I didn't disturb you," Charlotte said, and I could feel the smirk in her voice.

"There are people here," I said angrily. "I'm holed up in the bathroom right now! This had better be fucking important."

"Oh, it is," she rambled. "They were gonna give this mission to Hacksaw, but I pulled some strings, namely the G, and they let you have it. So you'd better be grateful~!"

I sighed. "Charlotte, I don't have time for games. What is it?"

"You've got another kidnapping."

"So?" I was bored. This kind of thing happened many times a week.

"Soooooo," she drawled, "it's a celebrity kidnapping!"

"And why should I care?" I asked tonelessly. Celebrities were still people.

"It's Billie Joe Armstrong," she said, bored of her taunting.

I choked on my own spit.

"S-seriously?!" I stammered. "Charlotte, you... you're the best! What's my mission?"

As she outlined the mission, I giggled in delight. For someone to go into such extremes for something as silly as this... it was priceless. She then did some briefing, where he would be, what I had to do, normal things. While she did this, I put it on speakerphone and got ready. I put on standard mission attire - a black tank top, black cargo pants, and black knee-high combat boots. I put all the weapons and gadgets I would need in a little backpack. I put my guns in holsters and slung them all around my shoulders, and strapped a machine gun to my back. I also put some necessities, such as a map, poison, food, water, and ammunition in my pockets. Then I put on my vest, which was bullet-proof and pocket-riddled.

Sometimes I felt bad about becoming more of a gun-for-hire than a mercenary, but I was still a member of the same organization, and I knew my friend would think me a pussy but at the same time he'd think me smart. It was his memory that spurred me on.

By time I had finished, Charlotte finished my briefing. "Alright, I'll text you the address and you can meet me there for further briefing and some new shit to blow stuff up with."

"You're so thoughtful," I said with a smirk. We said our goodbyes, playful banter, etc., and I was about to exit through the bathroom window before I realized that my friends were still in my bedroom. I opened my bathroom door and there they were standing. I gasped as I realized that they could see my weapons and then again as I thought, what if they heard my conversation? I could hear my friend's voice in my head telling me that I'd gone soft, that I should be more cautious. I quickly thought up a lie.

"Guys, I'm so sorry," I said, "but my sister just called to remind me that her costume birthday party is tonight, and I just can't miss it."

"It's fine," they said with a strange look passing between them. I wasn't sure what that strange look meant, but maybe I just imagined it. So I ignored it. The two of them left and when I was sure they were gone I jumped out the window and headed for the meeting place Charlotte and I agreed on.

Upon arrival, however, I saw a something surprising and horrifying.

Charlotte was there, a gun in each hand. Those guns were pointed at two people I knew very well. That's right: Jenna and Aubrey. When I ran over to them, Charlotte looked pissed. "Well Shadow," she said, "what are we going to do with your little friends?"

"We can't just kill them!" I said automatically.

"You know, Chris would think you've gone soft," Charlotte scoffed.

I glared at her. Everyone knew never to bring up his name. They all knew how I felt.

"It's not because they're my friends," I responded. "Personally, I think they deserve an execution for being nosy bastards. But we can't kill them because they were over my house last, and I have no alibi. You can't defend me because you can't know me, and I'm sick of moving up and down the continent."

"So what do you propose we do?" she asked, sounding a little impressed and apologetic.

"Give 'em guns," I replied. "They're coming with me."

"What?!" she shouted. "You've got to be fucking kidding me! Are you out of your Goddamn mind?!"

"Listen, Char!" I said reassuringly. "We have gloves. They don't. It's a real easy job, especially considering the circumstances, but even if they are KIA we just need to manipulate the circumstances. If they get blown up then they're missing, one of history's unsolved mysteries, like the Agency's work with Earhart. If they're shot, then they killed themselves, or each other. Hell, we can just get rid of the bodies no matter how it happens. And if they make it, we can find a way to keep them quiet. Maybe we'll be lucky and they'll be traumatized into silence. Maybe they'll need brainwashed. I don't know what we've got in store for us, but you know this is the best option we've got."

She nodded slowly at the truth in my words and handed them each one of her guns. "And don't try anything funny," she told them with a glare. "We will kill you if you make us."

So far, this turned out as a triple kidnapping. Jesus bloody Christ, was this going to be fun.
________________________________________________

We saw the target walking outside his house, just as our employers said he'd be. From there it was real easy. As he was signing our autographs (hey, what can I say? I am a fan) Aubrey and Jenna grabbed him from behind and stuffed him in the car. Not like they had a choice, of course; their lives did depend on it.

But as we were driving to the drop-off point, there was some trouble. Billie Joe got loose and tried to take us down, so Aubrey tasered him and I wrestled him to the floor, tying him up again. Jenna put on Blood, Sex, and Booze and I giggled.

We drove down dark backroads, meeting certain checkpoints. Once I almost got hit in some cross-fire... I don't even want to say why. All through this Billie was asking us what we wanted, why we were doing this, etc. etc. Aubrey pointed a gun to his head and he fell silent immediately. I smacked her upside the head and scolded her, telling her we had to keep our guest comfortable. I apologized to him and he just asked me again, "Who are you? Why are you doing this? What do you want with me?" So I answered him truthfully.

"I'm the most wanted person in North America, the Shadow. These are my friends. They followed me on a mission and now they're my hostages. Kinda like you, 'cept they get guns. If they cooperate they don't die. We were hired to take you to a secret warehouse far away where no one will find you. Nothing personal; I'm a HUGE fan."

He was shocked into an appalled silence for the rest of the ride.

After we sped through some more checkpoints, we reached our destination. It was a run-down abandoned warehouse. We got inside with him and shut the door, turning on half of the lights. As the lights flickered on, our employers were outlined in the remaining darkness. They stepped out of the shadows and Billie was shocked to finally see their faces. It was his friends and bandmates, Mike Dirnt and Tre` Cool.

"Mike? Tre`?" he said disbelievingly. "You're behind this?!"

"Yeah, dude," Mike said. "We just had to get you out of the way."

"What are you planning?" Billie asked.

Tre` grinned. "Oh," he said, "we're going to give you exactly what you deserve."

The rest of the lights in the warehouse flickered on, and out jumped all Billie's friends and family, yelling, "Surprise!"

"What the fuck?!" Billie yelled.

"Happy birthday!" His wife and kids came out of the crowd and embraced him.

"It's the middle of July," he said, confused.

"Exactly!" explained Tre`. "It was my idea. If we did this on your birthday you might suspect it. So we planned it on a random day and now here we are. And of course, our mercenary friends are invited!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Armstrong," I said, untying him. I got up close to him and whispered in his ear, "Just be glad I got this mission. If it weren't me it would've been Hacksaw."

So all in all it was a pretty fun day. My friends had so much fun that we didn't even need to brainwash them. I got to party with Green Day.

I even saw...

I stared in disbelief. "C-Chris?" I asked disbelievingly when I saw the familiar face approaching me. "I thought... But... Y-you died! How...?"

"I'm sorry, Anna," he said, using my real name for the first time in my life. "I never wanted to do this, but I had to lay low. Nobody could know I was alive. Please forgive me."

I walked up to him and did the boldest thing that I, Anna Romano, expert mercenary and gun-for-hire, had ever done in my entire life.

I kissed him.

Blushing, I replied, "There's nothing to forgive."

It's ten years later. Our little munchkins are running around the house as I type this, and Chris is yelling at them about "How many times has your mother told you, no AK-47's in the house!?" I'm laughing as they hug me and I tell him that just this once it's okay, as long as nothing gets broken and there are no hospital trips. Chris and I haven't been very active in the Agency, but the kids, though only eight years old, are good little guns-for-hire.

All in all, it was the best mission of my life.