CHAPTER 1
ROXY
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Caught between the quietness and the engine's hum, Roxy Powell closed her eyes for a second before letting herself deal with overactive thoughts.
In a few moments, the car would stop, and she needed to focus on the version of herself she would have to inhabit to walk through the door—the one who is composed, precise, and operational.
But the mask was slipping dangerously.
The black Range Rover pulled up in front of the 'One Macquarie Place,' the building housing 'Macquarie Security Services' (MSS), a firm specializing in corporate and industrial security which, officially, had employed Roxy since her arrival in Sydney two years ago.
Coincidentally, the building also housed the 'British Consulate General in Sydney' one floor up.
However, appearances could be misleading. The building was meticulously chosen to blend seamlessly into the urban landscape, providing the perfect cover for a clandestine MI6 operations site in Sydney.
As she was about to get out of the vehicle, she felt her personal phone vibrating.
Charles Roberts - 10:14 AM Hey Love! How was your flight? What time shall I expect you home this evening?
"Damn it, Charles, why are you so sweet?" Roxy whispered. She could feel the mask slip a bit further.
Roxanne Powell - 10:15 PM Not bad! Will not be late.
Maybe this text was a bit too short or cold because she regretted it instantly. But as usual, Charles wouldn't complain. He cared for Roxy deeply, more than anything else, and Roxy was aware of it. In a fit of guilt, Roxy picked up her phone again to add a touch of... love.
Roxanne Powell - 10:15 PM Can't wait to see you.
It wasn't a lie, but not the truth either. It wasn't the time or place to dwell on it: Roxy needed to get her head into the game, at least until the moment she got home.
With a deep breath, Roxy exited the Range Rover, went toward the building, kept her distance, and looked around for threats. It was such an ingrained habit of hers—she sometimes forgot it hadn't always been that way.
Roxy Powell never delayed unless necessary. So, she headed straight for the elevator to the 16th floor of the building.
"Welcome back, Miss Powell," Kate greeted her in the unsecured zone of the office. No small talk. Roxy nodded quickly and swiped her access card to enter the command centre. As soon as she crossed the command centre door, she was once again Agent Powell.
The moment she stepped through the threshold, someone called out to her without any pleasantries or preamble. "Powell. Couldn't be better timing. Threat-statute report?"
"Target neutralized as requested. London is secure."
"Everything went as planned?" asked Carl Burns, the MI6 station chief in Sydney. Roxy'd been working with Carl since she arrived two years ago. Each time Roxy came back from a mission, he would ask the same question as if it were a test. And she gave him the same answer each time.
"Same old story, Carl. What you don't know won't hurt you."
"That's why you're top class at this."
At thirty-two years old, Roxy Powell was a strategic special operations agent tasked with neutralizing threats to the national interest of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
Her job wasn't metaphorical: she had performed actions that most people couldn't even fathom, let alone contemplate.
Roxy wouldn't think twice about lying, even to those she cared about, if she felt it was necessary.
Roxy Powell mastered the art of becoming a ghost when needed.
If she's ordered to kill, she will, and then she'll just watch them go, no matter who they were—nobody was actually safe from Roxy Powell.
Her golden rule was simple: never ask questions beyond your security clearance. You can’t give away what you don’t know, and there’s no need to feel guilty about it.
She was quite simply one of the Service's brightest agents. She wouldn't allow herself to believe the hype. One moment of overconfidence could be deadly, with no possibility of a second chance in this profession.
The Service spotted Roxy when she was barely twenty-five. Her path through the British Armed Forces had landed her in roles considered 'critical.'
They called her 'the ideal candidate': loyal, adaptable, and effective. Looking back, she called bullshit on that. Essentially, they were seeking someone they could easily control, someone who wouldn't fight back, likely someone with nothing left to lose. And it was precisely Roxy at that time.
The Service had taken a greater toll on her than it had offered to her in return. Roxy didn't do this job for glory or the money. There was no recognition in the shadows, and even less money.
She constantly reminded herself of the official lines to ease her guilty conscience: she served her king and country, which was why the government made her into a high-priced weapon.
Yet, Roxy increasingly struggled to keep going each day in this life. The machine was grinding.
What made her keep going? It might have been the only thing she had ever truly known how to do. Her predicament was comparable to having an arm trapped in machinery, with the safety mechanism out of reach. Therefore, she continued, more from a sense of duty than from convictions.
Roxy was completely exhausted, especially since the Service assigned her to the Sydney station.
And this fatigue was not just physical. It was much more vicious and profound than that.
She could sleep for many days straight, and it wouldn't make a difference.
She realized sleep wouldn't solve the problem.
The fatigue had seeped into her, plunging her into a hollow pain, a kind of creeping, silent weariness.
And Roxy was far too proud to admit it, but she was terrified of this situation. She knew these feelings would probably end up killing her, just as overconfidence would.
The idea of leaving her job before things got worse and there was nothing left to save tormented Roxy each night.
Maybe she could take a break?
"There is a local matter requiring your attention," Carl said, without pause.
Well, the break would have to wait, apparently.
"Carl, I thought I'd been dead clear last week. I need a proper break. This whole thing's absolutely killing me, and I'm gonna start messing up if I don't get some downtime."
Carl stepped closer to her, his voice lower now.
"I know, Roxy." She knew Carl was serious when he started calling her Roxy.
"But this one's entirely voluntary, and honestly, it's practically a holiday for you.
Would you mind coming to the briefing? I'm rather short-handed at the moment, as you're well aware. "
Translation: voluntary but strongly recommended.
"Carl, don't be daft. Optional missions are pure fiction. But I will. When's the briefing?"
"Two o'clock. It's a 'Five-Eyes operation.' The briefing will be with Canadian and Australian intelligence agencies."
She agreed, even though all she really wanted was to go home, shower, change, nap, and continue the 47th season of Survivor with Charles.
***
During her time with the Service, Roxy was frequently assigned to operations involving the 'Five Eyes,' a partnership that included intelligence agencies from Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and the United States.
Few agents were able to qualify for the clearance required to be assigned to these missions, but Roxy had obtained it without difficulty.
This was proof of the level of excellence embodied by Roxanne Powell.
So, she knew it wouldn't be a truly meaningless mission, as Carl had suggested earlier: you don't fuck with a 'Fives-Eyes' operation.
The 2 p.m. briefing meant Roxy was required to arrive in the room at 1:50 p.m. So, she arrived promptly at 1:45 p.m. She was immediately greeted by a delegation—her superiors, representatives from Canadian, Australian, and British governments, and a few civilians she hadn’t met yet.
She understood that finding out who. They were way above her pay grade.
Carl spoke first. "Agent Powell, thank you for accommodating us at such short notice. Please allow me to present Mr. Malcolm Colbert from the Australian Secret Intelligence Service, and Ms. Belinda Savoie from the Canadian Security Intelligence Service."
"Pleased to meet you all," Roxy firmly said, shaking their hands.
"Likewise. Your superiors spoke highly of you. Though, to be honest, most people think you're a myth. But the 'Five Eyes' recognize your talent well," said Belinda Savoie.
Malcolm Colbert, meanwhile, remained ice-cold toward Roxy, focusing exclusively on the brief he'd been tasked with today.
"Agent Powell, this information is considered 'Secret' by the Australian Government, in accordance with the UKUSA treaty's classification system.
The potential consequences for national security are considerable if this information is revealed without authorization. "
Roxy gave a curt nod of agreement. It was a formality, yes, but an essential one. In this world, where every detail mattered, it was best to be cautious and avoid any mistakes.
Malcolm cleared his throat and continued.
"In 2022, Australia's intelligence agencies and the Australian Federal Police partnered to launch 'Operation CrossPoint,' an effort to combat foreign disinformation.
Foreign governments like China and Russia, along with their independently funded groups, coordinate these efforts.
The issues at hand involve electoral system interference, meddling in the country's ongoing affairs, and public manipulation.
The insidious spread of disinformation has emerged as a formidable weapon for those who oppose us. "
Roxy turned toward Carl and Malcolm Colbert. "How can I be of any help?"
Carl spoke up. "The Australian government has reached out to Canadians and to us, asking for help with a sudden shift in their operation."