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“So…” the brunette purred, letting a painted finger curl under the burly businessman’s tie. “How about you tell your dear friends to leave us be?”
He heartily laughed. He reeked of expensive alcohol, and clearly couldn’t hold it well, based on the telltale glaze over his eyes and newly lighthearted nature.
The man lounged on a large chaise, and the woman had crawled so her thin legs bracketed his thighs. Her left arm lazily rested over her partner’s shoulder, but her right hand had already begun loosening his tie.
“Yea’ah… hah…” he hiccuped before yelling at his group of similarly tipsy business partners. “Hey!!! You guys bet’r go ‘fore I callll off that deal!”
The others grumbled and snickered as they left the main office to return to the main party.
The office was elegant and constructed mostly of dark wood and rich red velvet. One of the walls was adorned with a floor to ceiling bookshelf, while the opposite side of the room contained a plush lounge with an unnecessary quantity of crimson velvet couches. The entire room smelled of cigar smoke and alcohol, and had just been filled with the familiar chatter of tipsy high-class party goers until mere seconds prior. However, the room now settled into an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sporadic hiccups from the drunk man.
His large frame dwarfed his feminine partner’s, yet she still smirked as she tightened her hold on his tie. She again pulled it tight around his throat, effectively cutting off his airpipe. The man very suddenly began to choke, and his hands flew to helplessly flutter around his assailant’s iron grasp.
The brunette leaned over to her rapidly asphyxiating victim’s ear, ignoring his massive hands grabbing at her arms and hands. She whispered, “it appears that you have some files that WISE needs.”
The man’s eyes widened and the spy continued. “How about you help me out here? Unless you want your dear son to suffer the same fate as you will in mere seconds.”
The man, practically purple, let his arms drop before lightly- yet desperately- tapping the spy’s arm in a form of submission.
The person on top of him slightly loosened his tie, then sweetly smiled as he gasped for breath. He appeared to have sobered up a bit- at least enough to form coherent thoughts.
“You… you crazy bitch! I’m not telling you shit!” He spat, to which the spy grabbed both of his wrists, effectively restraining him in one single motion. The businessman gulped as he saw the feminine figure take out a silenced pistol with their free right hand to slowly raise to his forehead.
“Mr. Kevin Raymond. You have files on an underground weapons distributor that is endangering the peace between the East and West. Nothing of that sort should be more important than young Lucas’ life. Make the correct decision.” The spy sneered, pressing the barrel further into Raymond’s forehead. At the mention of his son, the man’s expression blanched.
He bit his bottom lip before whispering, “Middle cabinet. Everything you need is in the very back under a divider titled: ‘Other’.”
The spy flashed a smile. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Raymond. However, pedophilic murderers with a nasty habit of selling harmful intel have no place in the Ostania we aim to maintain.”
And the gun went off.
———
Twilight sighed. He never liked getting blood on his hands for missions, however Kevin Raymond could effortlessly be considered as a danger to Westalis and Ostania alike.
And if Twilight hadn’t shot him right then, his life would have likely ended not much later. He was far from the only spy- WISE or otherwise- at this event tonight. He just happened to be the most effective.
Twilight removed and disposed of his long white gloves that had been graced by an alarming red splatter. His form fitting black dress fortunately concealed the few drops that had strayed from their intended path.
The dark mahogany desk was objectively beautiful, however knowing the cruel contents of this gorgeous shell just put a bad taste in Twilight’s mouth. He followed the directions given to him by Raymond, and then the additional instructions from WISE to find the other stash of unsavory files.
He sighed again- wondering how women did it- and then stuffed the two folders in the back of his bodice, which he then covered with an expensive fur coat that would have to be returned to Handler.
The office had a restroom attached, which Twilight quickly utilized to reapply his bright red lipstick, replace his shiny black masquerade half mask, and readjust how his false chest sat in his low cut dress.
Raymond had died nearly three minutes prior, however Twilight’s prediction was that it would be at least eight more minutes until his body was discovered if Twilight returned to the floor, and an additional four if he were to find a way of escape from the inside of the office.
Unfortunately, all visible vents seemed to be small, and the only window was a large pane of glass that couldn’t be opened without destruction. So he opted for the first plan.
A pleasant smile returned to Twilight’s face as he stepped out of the grand wooden door and into the well-lit hallway. The main gathering took place in the main dance hall, and the spy began making his way down while politely waving to others in the sprawling hallways.
Eventually, he passed yet another grand door that opened up into the main ballroom, where he was once again greeted by the lively chatter of a slightly intoxicated crowd and the various colors of the masks worn by all of the attendees.
Twilight slowly made his way through the colorful crowd, and eventually was able to descend the stairs to exit on the ground floor. An especially loud man with a woman on each arm having a conversation blocked the entrance, however the spy was able to bypass the small group by fluttering his eyelashes at the first man, who let him pass with a wink.
He had finally made it outside of the mansion, but was stuck on the estate until his escort car arrived.
The cool breeze made his wig’s hair flutter, and the spy was suddenly extremely grateful for the impossibly plush fur jacket. Despite the layer of fake skin covering his arms and chest, the night’s chill still sliced through him. A large slit that went from the floor of his long gown traveled its way up his left leg, and he wore only nylons and a pair of heels under that.
The wind slowed for a second, and Twilight felt a tap on his shoulder. Which was bizarre because he couldn’t even tell there was someone behind him. He slowly turned, only slightly worried about the state of his instincts, and was met with the face of a woman.
She was shorter than him, although most women were, and had long blonde hair that he immediately identified as a wig. Golden jewelry adorned her ears, neck, and wrists. The entire top half of her face was covered by an intricate half theater mask that cast a shadow over her eyes, however the rest of her body was much less concealed, covered in a satin gown similar to Twilight’s in many aspects excluding cut and color.
“I’m so, so sorry to bother you…” the woman began, in a voice that sounded hauntingly familiar to Twilight. “But…” her voice dropped to barely a whisper, “is Kevin Raymond dead?”
Twilight flinched and instinctively spun to reach for her solar plexus- intending to pin her to a wall- but she countered and grabbed both of his wrists before slamming him to the floor. He grunted as his false face was pushed onto the well-maintained brick outside of the building.
“Who.. what are you?” Twilight finally stuttered, his voice never faltering from the careful feminine register.
“I smelled the blood on your dress. I thought it might have been for another reason, as it wasn’t very potent, however your reaction told me all I needed to know.” Gone was the strangely familiar tone, a much colder one replacing it. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”
“Who are you?” Twilight asked again, receiving a harder push into the ground in response.
“Ma’am, I believe you’ll find that I am the one asking questions in this scenario. I could snap your neck before you even sensed me move.” He didn’t doubt that statement for even a second.
Although the idea of her being a spy had crossed his mind, she seemed to have quite the guts. Allowing him to arrive at the hypothesis of the monster above him being something more akin to an assassin.
He grumbled in discontent before reciting his falsified identity. “My name is Theresa Hart. Twenty five years old, daughter of Nikolas Hart. Single, which I used as an excuse to get close to that pervert. Who are you?”
The assassin scoffed, ignoring the spy’s question yet again. “So… ‘Theresa’…. you don’t mind me using your first name, right?” She tested out his fake name as if she could sense the dishonesty dripping from Twilight’s voice. Her comment was phrased less like a question and more like a statement of confirmation. “Would you mind telling me who you work for? If your answer suffices, I may just let you leave right now.”
Twilight’s mind raced, but his body stayed calm. Would it be safer to lie or tell the truth? He still had no idea about her true intentions- such as if she even wanted Kevin Raymond alive or dead.
If the woman above him was hired by the SSS, it would be better to just lie and say he killed the criminal for some small reason, rather than with the goal of extracting information.
However, if she belonged to a smaller spy or assassin organization, there was a chance that her end goal was to kill Raymond as well.
Twilight thought back to any sort of indication of the woman’s professional alignment, coming up nearly blank. Nearly. Thinking back on the handful of seconds he could actually see her, Twilight’s attention had been caught by the shining gold jewelry. It was all clearly expensive, likely being for more than just this one mission… maybe even from a personal collection. Other than the material it was made out of, the pieces all shared a similar theme- one of roses and thorns.
Only one assassin had such a subtle, yet telltale sign. One who never let descriptions of her true appearance grace the lips or ears of anyone alive. One who would fit perfectly into a masquerade party, where her face would never be viewed by anyone not specifically her target.
Twilight took a deep breath, attempting to judge if saying her name would somehow will her bloodlust into existence.
“Thorn Princess, I don’t think killing me would do you any favors,” the spy earnestly responded. “I work for an intelligence agency. I collected information from his office, and he happened to be such a lowly criminal that I shot him square in the forehead.”
The assassin on his back grasped his wrists even tighter, but she released his head and slightly leaned back, unintentionally communicating that she believed his comment. Which was good, as it was partially the truth.
“WISE?” Twilight nodded in confirmation, and he could practically hear the cogs turning in the Thorn Princess’ head. “So you are… Agent Nightfall?”
Twilight almost laughed. It was logical that her first idea would be a well known female spy, but simply imagining Nightfall trying to deliver on the role of a sassy politician’s daughter brought a genuine smile to his face.
“Ah.. sure… why not?” Twilight said, attempting to suppress his smile. “Any other pressing questions or may I return to my duties?”
She seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, but still let her grip slack ever so slightly. The bizarrely familiar voice returned, and she said “Um… I mean I suppose I can let you go… you killed my target but you haven’t seen my face so I am supposed to spare you.”
Twilight allowed a practiced smile to make its way into his voice. “It’s refreshing to hear someone of your profession choose the merciful path. Perhaps the Garden and WISE aren’t so different after all.”
Thorn Princess fully let go of Twilight’s wrists, yet remained sitting on his back.
A comfortable silence blanketed the two, and despite having an assassin perched on his back like a hawk, Twilight felt at peace. The aggressive air that surrounded her earlier had dissipated, and although the spy couldn’t see her face, he imagined that Thorn Princess was expressing a similar contentment.
After multiple seconds of this mutual space sharing, the Thorn Princess again began to whisper. “Why do you do it?”
“Wow. Asking the serious questions now,” Twilight said. He pondered how detailed he should explain, but eventually landed on his general blanket statement. “I had a tragic childhood and I want to create a world where children never have to cry like I did.”
The assassin paused for a moment. “That’s beautiful,” she again whispered. “I… I have a child. I can understand your dream.” She adjusted herself to better balance on her feet, and slowly stood up.
Twilight let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and waited for her to fully stand before beginning to get up himself.
Twilight brushed himself off and out of the corner of his eye, noticed a slick black limo rolling up to the entrance. His getaway vehicle.
“Theresa… Nightfall… or whatever you go by… I hope we can meet again,” the assassin smiled- as if she didn’t threaten the spy before her mere minutes before. As if she was just having a casual chat with a friend from work.
Twilight was incredibly bothered by how genuine and familiar that smile seemed, but waved it off.
“Me as well, Thorn Princess. Perhaps we will be able to speak more in detail then. But until next time…” he removed one of his earrings adorned with the WISE logo and placed it in the Thorn Princess’ open hand. “A piece of memorabilia to remember this interaction by.”
The spy dipped his head before walking to the giant gate and slipping into the back of the car. He gazed back out of the window, and saw the woman he had just been speaking to scaling the side of the mansion before landing on the ceiling and slipping into the shadows.
He finally shrugged off the massive fur coat, and removed his latex mask to let his own blond hair free.
Finally breaking character for the first time in hours, he spoke to the WISE agent acting as his driver. “Bring me straight to 128 Park Avenue. Yor will worry if I’m out at the hospital for too long.”
The spy looked down at the deflated face of a woman who never existed and allowed his gaze to drift over to the one empty earring hole. He couldn’t help but smile as he muttered, “I’m sure Yor and her would get along well.”
———