Darkness claimed his vision and his head pounded like someone opened a god-damn smithy in it.
Ethan clenched every ounce of willpower he had left in his mental fist, doing his best to fight through the haze that threatened to claim him. Hissing in pain, the man managed to lift his exhausted eyelids, only to beheld an angel.
Bela's beautiful face hovered over him, her features tense in worry, as her mouth worked furiously to spew out words he could not hear, thanks to the overwhelming ringing in his ears.
Even though he could stare all day at her breathtaking visage, something was obviously terribly wrong and a single, sudden thought allowed the father to completely push through the daze that had enveloped his mind and return to the land of the living.
Rose!
With the strength he did not know he possessed, the man forced his bruised body back to his feet, grunting with effort, as he did so. His Bela, still completely naked - as was he - was quick to offer a shoulder to lean against.
Accepting the help, Ethan attempted to speak out the name of his beloved daughter, though the cursed ringing prevented him from immediately knowing if he was successful in his efforts.
Bela's already tense visage narrowed further in focus as she gave a curt nod, her keen eyes inspecting his frame meanwhile - searching for damage. Likely understanding that the man was suffering a concussion, her lips moved slowly in a deliberate pattern so Ethan could discern it even in his dazed state. Can you stand on your own?
Giving a shaky nod, the man struggled to stay upright as her supporting hands left his frame. Bela did not waste a second in putting her nightgown back, using her swarm form to accelerate the process by simply fluttering into it and reforming already dressed. The blonde woman did not forget to arm herself with her trusty sickle either, which she always kept close by. Ethan took the moment to put his own white bathrobe back on while making sure the keys to his cabin were inside of it.
Seeing Bela armed and dangerous, Ethan himself felt a certain longing for a comforting weight of his own pistol - naturally, he did not consider bringing it to this late night rendezvous with Bela. As if reading his mind, he was suddenly offered a .357 Desert Eagle sidearm, courtesy of his blonde hostess. A trophy from her first brush with The Connections, no doubt. Accepting the weapon with a grateful smile, Ethan did not hesitate to step out of her cabin, hoping to swiftly return to his own - with Bela following close by.
Outside the comfy room, Ethan was greeted by a menacing red glow of the emergency lighting that now illuminated the hallway. Finally, the annoying ringing in her ears started to subside - only to be replaced by blaring klaxons.
What the hell is going on… are we really under attack?
Whole ship felt unsteady at his feet, with metal creaking grating painfully against his sore eardrums. The yacht suddenly shuddered violently, forcing Ethan to lean against a hallway's wall for support. Before the man could regain his bearing. the door to his right slammed open, revealing an angry visage of Cassandra, her features sleepy and unkempt.
Sparing Ethan only a passing glance, the vicious brunette sibling rushed towards her elder sister; both of them starting to gesticulate wildly, as they attempted to be heard over the deafening klaxons. After a moment, Bela moved towards Daniela's room, while Cassandra went to check on Alcina.
Not wasting any more time himself, the father rushed back to his own cabin - some distance away, at the other side of the living quarters area. On his way out, he had to navigate through increasing numbers of panicking crew-members - most of them only in simple nightgowns or just boxers, as well.
As he finally arrived at his assigned quarters, the man fumbled with the keys he produced from his robe's pocket, before getting the door unlocked - his hands unsteady from both the head injury sustained, as well as the overall scene of mayhem around him; Ethan's feeling of vertigo was growing worse, to the point where he felt like vomiting.
The moment the door swung open, Ethan was greeted by a pair of tiny, soft blue eyes. The sight of his poor three-year old daughter, with clear fright in her expressive orbs, standing barefoot as she clutched the plushie dragon tightly to her chest, was enough for the man to go back to his previous, miserable thoughts.
Nevertheless, Ethan did not hesitate in taking his precious child into a protective embrace, even as he cursed himself for his failure as a father - for putting Rose into such a precarious position. His hands rubbed gentle circles over her tiny back, as his calming words attempted to soothe the distraught daughter.
"I am here, Rosie… everything's alright…"
"What is happening, daddy?" Rosemary's meek voice reflected her outward fright perfectly.
Good question, but fuck if I know… Gritting his teeth in agonizing helplessness, the man settled on honesty, as his young daughter was already keen enough to see through any empty platitudes he could concoct on such a short notice.
"I don't know, honey… but we will get through it together…"
As if to test his words, the ship creaked and groaned - the metal of the superstructure clearly being subject to an immense strain, producing that horrible, ear-splitting noise. The whole yacht shuddered in a violent and prolonged motion, making the tiny child sniff and sob, as the angle of their footing changed - just slightly - but enough to make the man himself panic, from this most unusual of vertigo.
We need to get out of here!
Almost on cue - the loudspeakers in the hallway roared to life, letting the amplified voice of Millie break through the klaxons.
"This is not a drill! Nouă Speranță has sustained critical damage to its superstructure, and I can not guarantee its ability to stay afloat… or whole beyond the ten minute mark! Everyone aboard is to proceed to the designated evacuation areas, immediately - in an orderly manner! Do not give in to panic and help those who cannot help themselves!"
Clearly, Millie struggled to contain panic herself, if her shaky voice was any indication. Nevertheless, with a clear plan and a stated timetable, Ethan felt a degree of reassurance.
"Get dressed quickly, love - we are leaving, just like the kind lady said!" The Winters proceeded to dress in record time, with Ethan staffing his backpack with their most valuable possessions, as they did so.
Two minutes later, the small family emerged from their cabin, only for Ethan to direct them towards the lower deck - where the crewmembers were rushing towards. Before they could make much progress towards that direction, a strong hand on the father's shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Not this way, Ethan. You're coming with us."
Dion Wilson's friendly face and firm words was a welcome change among the chaos of this situation and Ethan obeyed the red headed man with just one word of protest. "Bela?"
"Don't worry, Don Juan - Emily is getting the Dimitrescus. We are all taking the highway out of here."
The trio quickly made their way upwards, towards the helipad at the edge of the ship, where the Dragonfly Hovercraft was waiting, as well as some company - the Hound Wolf Squad, and the Duke's lieutenant.
Chris was locked in a heated debate with Tom, with John and Rolando behind them. Charlie was apparently hard at work in the pilot's seat of the aircraft, his fingers furiously pressing upon the buttons unseen from Ethan's angle.
"The hell do you mean, Duke is staying behind!?" Chris was clearly livid, while Tom remained calm, yet it was clear that behind the stoic facade, the tall man was teetering on the edge himself.
"The Duke is not going to leave his people behind as he flies to safety on some aircraft, Chris. We will evacuate by boat, with the rest of the crew. We aren't that far from the Spanish shores, and our contacts there are already notified of our predicament."
Chris grit his teeth in frustration, but conceded the point with a nod. The two men exchanged a brief but respectful handshake; Tom, noticing the Winters family, briskly walked towards them - a forced smile on his face, even as his green eyes betrayed the depth of his sorrow. The yacht meant more than a mere ship to the man. It was a symbol of perseverance and renewal… and now it was going down, and he could do nothing about it.
Kneeling before the tiny girl, the man's voice was as gentle as ever.
"Well, it seems our adventure together comes to an end, Rosie, as unfortunate as it is…" The girl sniffed as she hugged the tall man, Tom returned the gesture with genuine affection. "There, there… I am sure we will see each other again, but for now, you'll have to stay strong for daddy, alright?"
"Alright, I will, Uncle Tom… but… stay safe, please?" Tom simply chuckled, as he patted the girl's blonde hair, before nodding and standing up, to exchange a heartfelt handshake with Ethan, next.
"I truly hope that we get to cross paths again, Ethan, but if not, I want you to know that it was an honor for me to get to know you and your beautiful girl. You're a good man."
Ethan smiled, as he returned the sentiment. "Likewise, Tom. I wish you and yours the best in the days to come, and let us knock down a couple of beers after all this mess is done with and forgotten, yeah?"
"I'd like that! Godspeed."
With the final smile, the tall man that was the first person to join Ethan and Rose on this newest insane adventure of theirs, took his leave, eager to return to his own people who likely needed him during this calamitous time. On his way down, he was intercepted by Emily, with the whole Dimitrescu family in tow. Ethan didn't miss the fond, almost longing glance Tom directed Daniela's way, before vanishing inside the dying ship's bowels.
The Dimitrescu family members themselves only had their nightgowns, as well as some warm slippers and cloaks to protect their vulnerable bodies from nightly chill. What few possessions they had were securely stored inside the backpacks the girls had over their shoulders.
"Brrrr… soooo cold!"
Wild-eyed and shivering, Daniela looked around in panic, still not fully comprehending what exactly had occurred to force her out of her comfy and warm bed, in the middle of the night. Seeing the redhead's distress, Alcina was quick to share what little body heat she had with her precious daughter, taking her in tender embrace.
In dying agony of its own, the ship creaked loudly again, while angling upwards - causing both Daniela and Rosie to yelp in fright.
"Get inside the aircraft, girls… I think the Duke's yacht is bound for the depths, soon!" Bela was quick to nudge her family inside the Dragonfly's open side door.
Chris nodded at that, before ushering everyone else in. "She's right. Get inside and strap yourselves in. We'll have to finish our trip to the safehouse by air."
Getting inside the aircraft, Ethan made sure to strap Rosie tightly to her seat, before taking his own. Out of nowhere, Eveline suddenly appeared, suppressing a yawn; her sleepy expression quickly changing to bewilderment as she took in the situation.
"Mhm… I had such a nice dream… What is going on? Did I miss something? Yikes..."
Before Ethan could respond, Cassandra's loud voice resonated across the small aircraft's hold.
"So, what the hell is going on? I was hoping some pirates attacked us or something… I'd love to butcher some of them and loot their stuff! I bet I'd look good in a pirate hat, yarr!"
Both Daniela and Rose could not suppress a small, nervous giggle at her impression, as well as an overall carefree attitude. It was clear the brunette Dimitrescu was not bothered in the slightest about the tremendous loss the Duke was about to suffer. Chris - less amused - was the one to answer her fair inquiry, however.
"Several explosives were detonated across the spine of the ship - simultaneously. I see no other possible explanation, other than intentional sabotage. Thankfully - no casualties, so far." The large captain adopted a pensive look, as he strapped himself in, before continuing. "The culprit, however - could be anyone… an infiltrator? Or a traitor..?"
The last word sent a shiver of fright through Ethan's own spine. He had never even considered the possibility that one among them could be working for the enemy, all along. Glancing around, the father briefly considered, who could that person even be?
Surely nobody from the present company? I am not even considering Dimitrescus, and Chris' own people are all hand-picked… whoever the traitor is, he must've remained on the yacht.
Rolando Elba, the last person in, slammed the door shut behind himself, before taking his own seat and strapping in. Seeing the whole team assembled and seated, Chris banged on the door to the cockpit with his fist - giving the sign to lift off.
The aircraft started exuding a low humming noise - fully powering up. A mere moment later, the passengers were shaken in their seats as the vehicle rapidly gained elevation, even as it rotated around. Edging his face to the nearby illuminator, Ethan took a moment to appreciate the fine ship they were leaving behind.
The once majestic yacht, proudly displaying Nouă Speranță on its hull, was now barely staying afloat. The vessel was visibly trimming, with its bow rising above the waterline and the stern already mostly sunk. The Mediterranean Sea would not have to wait long to claim its prize, it seemed.
Many smaller boats were already breaking off from the larger vessel, drifting towards the distant Spanish shores. At least the crew made it.
Ethan still couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow at the sight. Even though he'd spent less than two weeks in total on the grand ship, the memories he'd made there were truly timeless.
The creepy birthday party he'd attended, only for it to shift into a wholesome, carefree event.
The unbelievably weird group hug they all shared in the hospital, that, nevertheless evoked nothing but warmth in his chest.
The shocking resurgence of Eveline and how he felt threatened by her - initially; only for that feeling to morph into one of almost parental affection for the ghostly girl, who was now whispering sweet nothings to his own child, in a sweeter yet attempt to soothe her. Ethan couldn't help but glow in pride at both of his little girls. They've all come so far...
The brutal spar with Cassandra, that almost left him crippled, yet allowed them both to grow as people. Glancing at the brunette Dimitrescu, Ethan caught her gaze, as she gave him a self-satisfied smirk - a gesture he returned. Despite her callous and cruel nature, the woman was a comrade-in-arms, and Ethan felt like he had yet to truly learn the depths of her own being. He only hoped that she didn't leave his sketchbook behind...
The touching moments with Daniela, that truly blurred the lines between monsters and humans. That short encounter in her room, the various games they played to kill time, the way she went out of her way to comfort Rose. A bit more calmed now, the redhead was giving Rosie and her plushie dragon a warm, fond glance, her full lips smiling gently upon the tiny child. Like a little sister Ethan never had...
Finally, Ethan couldn't help but smile dreamily at all the beautiful memories he had made with a certain blonde woman, in particular.
Their reunion, where he had been so starstruck by her ethereal beauty.
Their semi-drunken rendezvous in the bar - a perfectly awkward mix of comfort and lust.
The unforgettable stargazing, which ended with them asleep in each other's arms - in perfect contentment.
Momentarily taking him out of his musings, the Dragonfly hovercraft lurched forward, with impressive speed, finally leaving the Duke's yacht behind. But the memories of the days aboard would remain with him to his dying breath.
Enjoying the silence and glancing at Bela, Ethan felt heat creeping to his cheeks at the recollection of the latest memory - still quite raw, as it was made a mere hour ago.
The passionate lovemaking they were in the process of, when this calamity struck.
Ever the predator, sensing his discomfort, Cassandra pounced on her tonight's prey, finally breaking the silence.
"And what exactly were you up to with my big sister at 4 AM, anyway, Ethan?"
Suddenly, every single pair of eyes were on him, making the father blush an even deeper shade of red. Alcina glared at him with particular loathing, making the man truly glad that she was 'declawed' in this moment. Opposing her, Daniela had a pouty look of extreme disappointment, as if she'd slept through her favorite show.
"I… ugh...we…"
Alcina became red in the face herself at Ethan's pathetic mumblings - the indignity of having a man-thing tainting her beloved daughter proving too much for the Dimitrescu matriarch.
"We weren't up to anything, dearest sister!" Bela was quick to note the growing discomfort Ethan and her mother experienced, and therefore leapt to the man's defense...in a peculiar, teasing way. "Why, we merely discussed the merits and shortcomings of various programming languages Ethan practiced during his career. I suppose we've lost track of time… it was just that...intriguing." Bela took a pause to sensually lick her lips. "We will really have to continue our session later, won't we, Ethan? We'd stopped on Python...a most curious subject, if I dare say so myself."
Ethan's plight was only amplified by Bela's obvious innuendoes, but Alcina - who had no interest whatsoever in modern technology, unlike her cherished daughter - simply shrugged her shoulders; whether in resignation or acceptance was anyone's guess. Surprisingly, Bela's sly looks thrown his way returned the father a measure of confidence.
"You can count on that, Bells. Why, I still have quite a bit to teach you about that particular language."
It was the elder Dimitrescu sibling's turn to blush, as her beautiful round cheeks were tinted with that adorable shade of pink.
"Damn, Ethan, didn't realize you were such a Python guru! Maybe we should trade tips later?"
Dion's own mirthful and teasing voice preceded a start of carefree conversation that included every passenger on board the ship, with even Lady Dimitrescu and Captain Redfield joining in, eventually.
Even though neither Cassandra, nor Chris spoke a word to each other, Ethan did not miss the occasional glances one would shoot the other when he or she was not looking their way, making the father himself smirk.
Despite the horrible blow the gang just suffered through, the rest of their flight towards the B.S.A.A. safehouse proceeded in comfortable and cheerful banter.
From a large motorboat, The Duke watched the uncaring Mediterranean Sea claiming his cherished yacht with a whirlwind of emotions threatening to break the stoic expression of his cherub-like face.
All the precious artworks, priceless artifacts and valuable possessions… bound for cold, dark depths. More than that, the grand ship itself was the pinnacle of his achievements and lifelong goals - commissioned to celebrate the beginning of a new age. And now it was all gone.
All gone, simply because he made a mistake by growing complacent, firm in his foolish belief that he could forever stay two steps ahead of his competition.
A single manly tear fell down his full cheek, as the majestic ship finally vanished beneath the waves. A soft, dainty hand on his vast shoulder brought only a measure of comfort at this most trying of hours.
"I've already summoned the diver teams… they will recover what they can…"
Millicent. Ever loyal and resourceful.
"I've gone through the reports and headcounts from our chiefs… no casualties, thank God, though a number of wounded… some need immediate medical attention. One MiA."
Thomas. Always compassionate and thoughtful.
"Farewell, my beautiful Nouă Speranță… Even though you're gone, your legacy will endure, as long as we - the survivors - remain." The Duke's own parting words allowed somber silence to settle in, before their own motorboat's engine roared to life, in a bid to rejoin the rest of their tiny fleet - now bound for the Spanish shores.
Before long, Millie could not suppress a rhetorical query of her own, however.
"How could this have happened…?"
Nobody answered, for the answer was obvious - a traitor in their midst. The small woman continued, undaunted by lack of response.
"We knew every single one of these people, all of them were slighted by The Connections or their ilk in the past. There was basically no outside contact for any of them after their inductions… yet someone blew our fucking ship up…could be an infiltrator, instead, I suppose?"
"Unlikely" Tom immediately responded, raising an eyebrow from Millie. "The explosions were placed at strategic locations along the spine of the ship, in out-of-reach spaces, normally reserved for specialized crew-member work. Moreover, The armory master noted that the explosives used were most likely home-made, as indicated by their profile - not that powerful, with uneven distribution of blast energy. The automatic pump system we had should've handled the amount of water we were getting."
"Should've?" Millie was paying him her full attention, as the man continued, with a thoughtful look on his plain face.
"Indeed. It never activated, indicating either a gross incompetence of the system's maintenance team or sabotage. The latter - a far more likely scenario - would imply that our culprit was intimately familiar with the ship's layout and specifics - knowing exactly what kind of damage would be sufficient to permanently cripple it."
Puffing on a freshly lit cigar, the Duke was the one to ponder on the subject aloud next.
"So, our little culprit had both the motivation to hurt us, as well as the required know-how and the full knowledge of the ship's layout…I don't think I can name a single possible candidate, from these given parameters... A true mystery, I'd say!" the Duke paused to take a deep huff of his cigar. "Anything peculiar about the headcount?"
Tom thought about that for a moment, before offering an answer. "Everyone but one is accounted for. Stewardess Second Class Anna Smirnova is Missing in Action. But that's nothing too surprising, with how violent the explosions were. It is very likely that the poor girl was simply performing her night shift in an isolated portion of the ship and struck her head, or something… With how rushed the evacuation has been… she might have simply been left behind."
Millie was quick to offer her two cents. "Little Anya, I know her well - I am the one who recruited her, after all… such a shame, too… Poor girl lost her lover Andrei during the ambush, and now her own life, as well…" At the unspoken question from the Duke's gaze, the small woman continued the unpleasant thought.
"She is a simple village girl, who barely spoke English and always attended her duties diligently. I can't even fathom her as the one being responsible for this fucking mess."
Nodding, the Duke sighed, as the mystery of this calamity was growing even darker. With resignation, the huge man changed the subject.
"Well, I suppose we will just have to keep our eyes open wide, from now on. Regardless, I have a new job for you, Millicent."
The metal gray eyes of the woman narrowed at that. "Oh? I thought we were determined to support our 'friends' till the end in our fight against The Connections?"
"We are, but with the destruction of Nouă Speranță, I am afraid I have no choice but to call on old favors to keep the playing board even. Myself and Tom will have to suffice in providing aid for our dear Dimitrescu and Winters, meanwhile."
"Alright. Go on…"
"You will have to pay your father a visit, Millie."
Both Tom and Millie were momentarily stunned by that simple statement, spoken by the Duke in a completely neutral tone. The dark-haired woman opened and closed her mouth several times, before finally proceeding with the conversation.
"My father..? Nobody knows where he is!"
"Oh, he owns a scrapyard, as well as a quaint little crocodile farm in Australia, I believe." The Duke was the very picture of calmness, as he admired the raising sea waves, while smoking his cigar. His right-hand woman was, however, remarkably less calm and composed with her own response.
"What… You're saying that you knew where he was all this time!? And you never deigned to inform me!? He is my fucking father! What the fuck!"
Unbothered by her display of vulgarity, the rotund merchant continued, though his tone shifted to a slightly apologetic one, as he did so.
"I am truly sorry for that, Millicent, but first and foremost he is my client. And his wish and right to privacy is a prerogative I am not willing to overlook - not for anyone. You should know how it is, by now. That said… now we have little choice but to involve him in this fine mess of ours, if we are hoping for a satisfactory conclusion, that is."
As the small woman still seethed in rage - too furious to even produce a verbal response, her small fists clenching in impotent anger - the Duke offered an additional, comforting word. "You have the right to be displeased with me for this deceit, Millicent, but I want you to know that I never intended for you two to be separated forever… As a matter of fact, I planned to host a surprise reunion for you, once our common foe was vanquished and it was safe enough to do so… but plans changed, obviously."
Hearing the genuine note of regret in the Duke's voice, Millie relaxed her tense posture, yet her metal-gray eyes were still burning holes in the larger man's back. One thing she could not stand was being held in the dark, especially with something personal like that. Attempting to diffuse the situation further, Tom was the one to offer his neutral perspective.
"Australia, huh? Makes sense, The Connections have almost no hold there. A good hiding spot. If one can tolerate all the marauding gangs that roam deeper inland, that is."
The Duke nodded, before concluding his speech with a request - the one he knew Millie would not be able to refuse.
"Indeed. Our good friend came into possession of some land near the nice town of Alice Springs. I'd like you to chart a plane right away, Millie."
The dark-haired woman scoffed in annoyance, but complied, as she made the call to the independent aircraft's captain that was on their payroll. She couldn't help but hiss out a biting remark, before she did so.
"What even makes you think he'll want to help you, anyway? He doesn't know me, so he wouldn't give a fuck about anything I'll say. You're dangling something over his head, as well?"
The Duke let out a mirthful chuckle at that. "Nothing of the sort! True, there are not many people in the world whose fates concern him...but I do believe the old devil has a soft spot in his metal heart for his dear sister… as well as his three beloved nieces."
Millie could not help but feel a wave of bitterness from rising to her throat. Once again, the shadow that was Dimitrescu loomed high above her, making her feel small and insignificant. Just like she was, twenty years ago - a worthless dirty orphan, with no family or friends, wanted by no one, not until the Duke came into the picture.
But now it seemed that even the large merchant was only interested in using her, just like everything and everybody else.
Tom's gentle hand over her shoulder was the only thing that prevented the short woman from breaking into uncontrollable tears of grief. Giving the tall man that was as close to a brother to her as was possible a small smile, Millie settled on her course. Wiping a few stray tears from her face, the woman had no more questions, and their boat settled into a loaded silence.
The perilous wasteland that was inland Australia awaited her.