Chapter Thirteen: I'm Your Biggest Fan
The messenger briskly closed the open flaps of his tan, oversized trenchcoat and left the hotel room without a word. Pyro found her palms were clammy and that she had started grimacing from nerves.
"Why didn't you tell her?" she asked after a long silence, glancing at the Spy from the corners of her eyes.
"I know better than to relay our intelligence to her. She has an ulterior motive, I can sense it."
"You mean you're risking our lives on a hunch?" she asked, a hint of incredulity in her voice. Spy, in return, leisurely retrieved a cigarette from his vest pocket, placed it between his lips, flicked the lighter underneath the end, and inhaled. After removing the cigarette and slowly exhaling a large cloud of tobacco smoke, his eyes pierced through said cloud and met hers.
"Tell me," he began, "have you ever looked inside the intelligence briefcases belonging to us or our opposing team?"
"No, actually, I haven't. I'd never gotten a chance to."
"I have. I am not so sure about the other Spy, but I know enough to have an idea of what is going on. In case you were unaware, the Administrator essentially controls the world, if you will."
"Pardon?"
"By proxy, she controls the affairs concerning RED and BLU, which are owned by Redmond and Blutarch Mann. RED and BLU are separate entities with numerous subsidiaries. She handles government affairs, has ties with most countries, large and small. Does this not sound as though she rules the world?"
Pyro stared at the floor, her eyes boring into it with such intensity that holes could be burned by her gaze alone. She brought her hands to her temples and turned to her colleague.
"How does she…okay. Never mind that," she sighed, "I—we can't just comply with her demands. I mean now that I know what she does, everything makes sense. Obviously, we can't take the shitstain way out and follow the mission as planned. We can't turn a blind eye to this. We've got to take her down."
"Oui, you've realized as well." Spy exhaled once again, smoke billowing out through his lips. "I'd been thinking about things. After this morning, I realized that what we are doing here is not just saving a figurehead for Australia, but, saving the world, if you will. What a cliche."
"You're damn right this is a cliche. You know, we came here to snipe an assassin and now here we are, world in the clutches of evil, all up to us to save the planet. Sophisticated French secret agent paired up with manly, bumbling killing machine. You never really think it'll happen to you. Then it does, and it's never really like it is on TV or the movies."
"We will do just fine. I'm not worried about us," Spy assured. Pyro raised an eyebrow at him.
"I am. In movies, they have everything neatly written out for them and everything goes peachy keen. Comically evil villain, big conflict, villain is defeated, heroes kiss in front of the explosion, they get married and have a white picket fence house with 2.5 kids, yadda yadda, you get the idea. For all we know, we could die a horrible death—or worse—carrying out this crazy idea of ours. It's the world against us."
"I only said it to placate you and boost your confidence. Has it worked?" he said with a smirk.
Recognizing the book in which Spy had taken a particular page from. Pyro rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Let's see."
"Indeed."
The rest of the afternoon consisted of plan-making by the pair of mercenaries, who sat at a table and sketched up plans to the best of their ability.
"Today is Monday, and the Saxxies are on Saturday. How are we gonna tell this world that they're secretly being run by a bony, purple-clad smoke cloud?"
"The Saxxies are internationally televised, are they not?"
"Yeah, under the guise that everything is acting and special effects. Things like most bloody massacre are real awards for real events and people are convinced that these awards are for special effects pioneers. It's huge, highest viewership of any award show in the world. Everyone gets a kick out of watching it."
"True. It's the perfect chance to expose her."
"Exactly."
"The ripple effect will be colossal. After this exposure, the news, the papers, the tabloids, the government—everything will explode."
"But what happens once we do that? Okay, we told everyone, now what? How do we solve the problem? Do we, like, kill her? Just set her on fire or something? I wonder how Saxton Hale feel about that?"
"How does he feel about the disposal of his ex-lover? We'll just have to ask, won't we?"
By the time the two approached Saxton Hale's hotel room, evening had already settled in. Out of the corner of her eye, Pyro spotted a black-clad, hooded figure seated directly outside the door.
"Who is that?" Spy asked under his breath.
"No time to wonder, let's find out." She inhaled and accosted the figure with caution.
"Hey, what's your beef?"
The startled, hooded bundle shot up from its position and bolted down the hallway. With a quick exchange of glances, Spy flew down the hallway in pursuit as his high-heeled partner watched in alarm. Within seconds, Spy uttered a battle cry, made a chance leap for the figure and, with a loud thud, tackled it to the ground, eliciting a loud groan from the lump.
"Hey, watch it!"
"Eh?" The masked man sat up, keeping the squirming figure in his grip still.
"That's naht how you handle a woman! OW!"
The voice that came from the mysterious person did not go unrecognized by the Pyro.
"Nadine?" she cried in disbelief.
"WAT?" she yelled, sitting up.
"What—what hell are you doing?"
Flustered, the Queens native scrambled to her feet, dusted herself off, and approached the fire-expert.
"I-I'm sawrry, I didn't know you were goin' undacova fa SAXTON HALE!"
"SSSHHHHHHHHHH!" Pyro waved her arms about again, quieting her acquaintance. "Yeah, so what?"
"That man is duh-VINE! How are you not meltin' into a puddle just standin' nexta him?"
"He's, uh, well," she began, unsure of what to say. She was usually not the type of woman to melt into a puddle around the opposite sex and though she admired Saxton Hale for his strength and valor, she never felt attracted to him in that manner. Was this normally how women responded to men to which they were attracted?
"He's what, hon? Isn't he simply gawge?"
"Oh, sure, I guess. He's just, uh…not my type, you know? Heh."
Nadine might not have been much of a scholar, but she was quite sharp when it came to reading others.
"Really, now? You too good fah him or somethin'?"
"What? No, not at all! Far from it," Pyro chuckled.
Nadine placed her hands on her hips, popped her gum, and gave the older woman a look.
"Oh, of course. I shoulda known. Frenchie ova heah is ya new beau, isn't he?"
"NAY!" she screeched.
"Don't you NAY me, I know you, missy. I mean, certainly a fine choice, I must say. I am impressed, I mean I never knew you had such a taste in men—"
"The ties between my colleague and myself remain confidential, I am afraid," Spy said, cutting into the conversation
"Ey, I ain't talkin' to you, baguette. I'm talkin' to ya girlfren ovah heah!"
"I'm not his girlfriend! Jesus Christ, Nadine!"
"WOT'S GOIN ON OUT HERE?" Saxton Hale roared as he smashed his door down and adjusted his light pink nightcap.
"Omaigawd omaigawd omaigawd," Nadine squealed, hopping up and down and clapping her hands.
"EH? LOOKS LIKE I HAVE A FAN HERE."
"Oh, do you eva!" she exclaimed, nearly swooning.
Saxton Hale ripped out a notepad and black marker from his remarkably short shorts, signed an autograph, and scooped up Nadine for an enormous, bone-crunching bear hug.
"COMMON FAN PROTOCOL, YOU KNOW. GOTTA CATER TO THE FANS, 'SPECIALLY THE SHEILAS" he boomed as he put down the shaking young lady. For once in her life, the chatterbox was left speechless.
"Understandable, I suppose. May I inquire your apparent need to be wearing a nightcap?" Spy asked with a hint of confusion.
"NOTHIN' WRONG WITH NIGHT CAPS, MATE. MY SLEEPIN' SCHEDULE'S ALL BLOODY SCREWY NOW, TOTALLY OPPOSITE OF THE OUTBACK."
Pyro nodded. "Listen, I know you're trying to fix yourself up right now, but, uh, can we talk for a bit?"
"TALK? SURE, WHY NOT. STEP RIGHT IN," he boomed. And so, Pyro, Spy, and a shaky Nadine entered the hotel room of Saxton Hale.
"Nadine, would you mind leaving us alone for a bit? It's, uh, secret-agent stuff…you know how it is."
"Y-yeah sure, definitely. I'll be in the bathroom." With that, she took her cue to leave.
"SO," Saxton boomed, flopping down on the couch with gusto, "WOT IS IT YOU'D ALL LIKE TO KNOW?"