Agent 17 Red Rose Hot- Apr 2026

She didn’t look back. Her hand snapped out, and a single, thin throwing knife—forged to look like a rose’s stem—buried itself in his throat. He made a wet, gurgling sound and collapsed.

“Package intercepted. The thorn has been applied. I need a clean-up crew at the old thermal plant.”

Her target tonight: Vasily Krovopuskov, an ex-SVR asset gone freelance, peddling a quantum decryption algorithm to the highest bidder. He was hiding in a decommissioned thermal plant on the edge of the Black Sea. The heat was literal. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes, and the infrared overlay on her goggles painted the world in shades of angry orange and deep, dangerous red. Agent 17 Red Rose HOT-

“And tell Control,” she added, blowing a smoke ring into the humid air, “the Rose is still sharp.”

Amateurs , she thought.

She released his wrist, and he slumped forward, sobbing with relief. As she turned to leave, he lunged for a hidden derringer taped under the console.

She smiled. It was a cold, beautiful thing. “Then you’d better give me the location, or I’ll make those twenty minutes feel like a lifetime.” She didn’t look back

Vasily spun around, his hand diving for a panic button. He never reached it.

She slid the garrote between her teeth, drew a silenced pistol, and fired twice. Phut. Phut. The guards dropped in synchronized silence, one clutching a leaky e-cig, the other never knowing what hit him. “Package intercepted

“The algorithm,” she whispered. “Where?”

The safehouse smelled of stale coffee and ozone. Agent 17, known in seventeen classified files as “Red Rose,” pressed a fresh clip into her sidearm with a soft, decisive click. Her codename wasn’t poetic; it was a warning. A red rose meant beauty with thorns. The “HOT” appended to her file stood for High-Value Objective Termination.