CHAPTER 9
I slowly flickered open my eyes only to come face to face with an all-too-familiar Russian assassin.
I stared at him.
Then realised I was lying in a bed.
A bed that was not my own.
I glanced down at myself, "Did we...?"
"No" He replied simply.
I frowned, "You sure".
"Positive" He said.
"... Cause I was kinda drunk last night" I continued and he smirked, "But I wasn't".
I stared at him, "Do you even drink?".
His smirk grew wider, "I'm Russian. We invented Vodka... Of course I drink".
"You just never seem unfocused and stuff... I didn't picture you the alcoholic-loving type of guy... Hey, wouldn't that kind of effect your hold badass-assassin image thing you got going on?" I asked suddenly, and this time, he actually grinned, "Badass-assassin?".
I glared at him, "Hey, I've got a killer hangover here, don't judge".
He sighed, "Little amounts of alcohol over little amounts of time, doesn't do any harm to my performance".
"Wow" I replied, "...You really got this whole diet thing worked out, haven't you?".
"Yes".
"Okay... Ah, would you mind, maybe, backing up a few feet? This is kind of strange... And awkward... And... Shit like that..." I trailed off uncertainly.
He just smirked and took a step back, walking over and sitting down in a chair across the room.
I glanced around, "... Nice place".
"Thank you".
I turned back to him, "Did you steal it?".
He smirked, "No. I bought it fair and square with legitimate money... That I got from stealing".
I laughed, "Of course you did".
Silence.
"... You know, my friends probably worried right now" I said a few minutes later and he frowned, "You're right... Wonder if he'll go to the police? Something along the lines of 'My best friend and I got ridiculously drunk, got into a bar fight, and now he's been kidnaped by a Russian assassin that he may or may not want murder for no reason at all'".
I stared at him, "... You got cruel sense of humour, you know?".
He simply smirked in response.
A while later and I was alone, the assassin being called away from my room.
So, I did the first thing any decent spy would do.
I sneaked around.
Slowly sitting up, I tried to ignore my pounding headache, and concentrated on getting to my feet.
That was easier said than done.
Not only had I a vicious hangover and felt like dying, but the bullet wound and stitches around my stomach chose now to play up.
Pushing away all unwanted thoughts and avoiding the idea of 'pain', I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, and made my way over to the window, throwing open the blinds in one swift motion.
The view was... Unbelievable.
I was in what looked to be the top floor of an ultra-modern three-story building, with a long winding driveway leading down to high, dark electric gates, and an equally as high and black fence surrounding the perimeter.
Behind the tall barriers, was a simple seemingly deserted road, but something told me there were hidden camera's running down it for extra protection against the assassins house, and beyond that there was a sharp drop, and then, the ocean.
The beautiful, wide, vast greeny-pacific blue coloured ocean.
Simply... Breath-taking.
The waves softly lapping up against the coast, white foam frothing with every strike, why grey and black seagulls circled overhead, gliding in the wind, frozen in their perfected state of mind.
It was just... Unbelievable.
"You like it, I take?".
I didn't turn around at the voice, and waited until the Russian had walked up and stood next to me before replying.
"I take it I'm no longer in England, then?".
He laughed slightly, "No. Never. We couldn't stay with MI6 at every corner, searching for their little puppet, so I called in a favour and got us out".
"... You do realise Jones won't give up until she finds me, right? And that where ever... THIS... Place is, she will eventually come searching" I replied and he slowly nodded, "True... But where do you think she'll check first? Country-wise?".
I thought for a moment, my eyes trailing away from the picture-perfect setting and drifting over to the assassin.
I stared at him for a minute.
"... Russia" I admitted, "She'll check Russia first. Then Switzerland. And then Brazil, more specifically, Rio De Janeiro".
He turned to me, "Rio? Why there?".
I paused for a minute, "... I'm 17... Still a teenager".
"And?".
"And teenagers are known for rebelling" I finished and he smirked, "Let me guess. You questioned her authority, wanted out, she refused, so you ran away. To Rio De Janeiro".
I grinned, "It's the best place to get lost".
Then suddenly, he frowned, "But she still found you".
"Not... Not exactly".
"You gave yourself in?" He asked surprised but I shook my head, "I... Ah... Had a partner before. The same guy in that war story. And he... Well... He got slightly hurt on the job, I got wind of what had happened, and... Went back".
Yassen seemed to consider this for a minute before smirking, "I would have loved to seen Jones re-action when you simply just walked in, no explanations".
I laughed, "Yea. It was pretty epic alright... But she found some way of blackmailing me into another mission, the one where I found out that you were still alive... And... Well... Here we are today".
He smiled slightly, turning back to the window, "And here we are today".
