Safely extract the "package", they said. A supposedly easy mission.

This snot-nosed, sticky-fingered kid better not be the package his director was talking about.

Heaving a sigh, Raivis tilts his sunglasses down, an unimpressed look crossing his features as he takes in your wide doe-eyes, chubby cheeks, and awed expression. The hell you looking at? He ain't Spiderman or someone like that. Though, if you think about it, he kinda is like a hero in all his badassery. Cool gadgets, outfit, awesome fighting styleーno cape though. Capes would make him look stupid andー

Getting off track, Raivis.

Right, right. He's gotta get you out of here and back to HQ without a scratch somehow. Slipping out of this laboratory unnoticed would be a walk in the park; when he's alone, that is. Ruthless guards? Easy. Jigsaw-style booby traps everywhere? Light work. Mutant abominations? Yawn. But having to drag along some scrawny lil gremlin at the same time? This must be a death mission.

To say the least, he has no idea how to work with kids. After all, he's a super spyーa hotshotーnot a babysitter.

"Listen up shrimp, we've got to get out of here without triggering the alarms. I don't want a peep outta ya, tu saproti?" That dumb look on your face remains; makes him wanna bash his head into the wallーexcept his face is much too pretty to be doing all that. Pinching the bridge of his nose is what he settles with, for now.

Crouching down, he racks his brain for something to say; really tears through those neurons. How do you explain how dire this situation is to a kid who at most has one developed brain cell? Would he get arrested if he just knocked you out? Nah. They'd never know. 'Cept Raivis has more morals than that (he isn't a complete scoundrel!).

"Watch closely," in a dramatic fashion, he pretends to zip his lips closed. "Zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket," followed by him shoving the imaginary key into his pocket. If that doesn't work, then he always supposes he can try the quiet game tactic too.

"Now, follow me."