I Regret Nothing
Itâs times like this when Eggsy regrets the way his mind works. Staring at the detective across from him, spouting off his record like he knows him. Loss of father at age seven, impressive scores on his A Levels despite his upbringing, enlistment to her majestyâs Royal Navy and subsequent leave, followed by petty theft, drug handling, and now⌠stolen vehicle taken for a joyride resulting in damage of property. Sure, yea, he could rat out his friends. But that ainât his way.
The detective gives up, leaves him alone with the blower for his last call before being locked up. He fingers the medal at his neck. A phrase spoken to his mum. Remembers soft brown eyes looking down at him. Heâd been holding onto one of the snowglobes his da gifted him with after each return abroad. Breath leaves him in an abrupt exhale, it wonât hurt to try.
A feminine voice responds from the other side of the line spouting some shite about a tailor shop and for christâs sake, this number was how old? He shouldâve known better than to ring someone after seventeen years with how the world has come to adopt new technology at the alarming rate that humans do everything. The bird is still rambling on about location and scheduling.
âOxfords, not brogues.â He whispers it. Cringes at his idiocy before hanging up. He swipes off his cap and his other hand rubs down his face as the rest of his body loses all tension like a puppet with cut strings. His head falls back to stare at the white buzz of the lights above him. He shouldâve called his mum.
âDammit!â
---
âLancelot, I have an extraction for you.â
âKind of in the middle of an argument, Merlin,â a bullet collides into the wall where her head was not five seconds ago. âMight I remind you that you were the one to send me- pardon-â
Merlin watches the feed on his screen as Lancelot deftly ducks the arm that whipped out behind the hallway corner she was to pass. The video jots around as his agent incapacitates a man almost twice her size.
â-into this prick measuring feud between the Gibson brothers. Bloody skirt suits. Iâm getting Excalibur to tailor me an abundance of trousers when I get back, see that I wonât.â Sheâs speed-walking down the corridor, glock out in front of her. âNow what are you on about an extraction? I thought Tristanâs team was handling all PASIV cases.â
âNot that kind of extraction.â Though it might actually be. His eyes glide over to the screen to his left. A photograph of a young man, details in black and green. A flag on this particular file had brought it to his attention after being opened for edits at a station in South London along with a low-voiced recording on the shopâs line. Heâs done the obligatory digging, of course, after it had appeared on his screen. There was an attached video log from the CCTV of the boy finessing a bright yellow sports car through busy streets, backwards. Nose-to-nose with the yard. Although quite impressive, Merlin was more intrigued by the encrypted file from the manâs time in the Royal Navy. Classified. Detailing an unique reaction to certain training.
âHe used Galahadâs code phrase for family in trouble.â
âGalahadâs M.I.A., and sir, both of us know he doesnât have family.â
âExactly. Iâll email you his location and your flight details. Please report to HQ by o-eight-hundred hours tomorrow morning.â
âMake it first class and Iâll have him in-tow by o-seven-hundred.â
Merlinâs lips twitched up in the corner for a second. âDeal.â The line clicked dead.















