Disclaimer: Read previous chapter.
Yes, I'm still alive. No, I have yet to edit these old chapters. And no, I have no new chapters yet. However, since I don't have a sched on Sunday, I may do a lil writing and post it. If there's no update by Sunday eve, then either I slept the whole day or I was kidnapped (the latter more likely to happen...haha).
Mm...that's it. Got to run. Take care and thanks for R&R.
If We Ever Meet Again
Blood.
Blood is scattered all over.
Usually I find this endearing although today, it's different. Quite different.
I should have known that something is up. First clue would have to be Agent Natsuo's appearance. I knew him back in Barcelona, we were not friends to say the least... Let's just say we had conflict of interest and because of his overwhelming proposition and my good mood that day, we got our own jobs done and had the pleasure to see another day light. But I have to say, he was the one who got lucky that day for I could have easily dismissed his proposal and killed him. How odd that we'd cross our paths once again.
Today of all days.
The second clue would have to be the delay of my client. If there's one thing you could appreciate with these people is they are damn punctual when it comes to receiving their end of the bargain. They are more than eager to get the deal done than me. Why? I could think of a few things, but I'll be preaching too much. I don't want to bore you with details.
So where was I? Oh yes, the third clue. It's not much of a clue, it's more so of a giveaway for people like me. There a bits and pieces which I noticed before though I neglected to take into consideration due to my impatience in getting the file. That file is similar to a candy to a child...Err...Well, the image that formed inside your head isn't exactly what I'm aiming for. Anyway, the bottom line, the file is important.
Let's leave it at that.
The sounds of my footsteps resound in this not so empty warehouse. She threatened to fire at me, I didn't even flinch. I'm quite aware that she can take a shot, those eyes told me the hatred and determination, but I couldn't care less. What's more important is the most important detail I've just discovered.
Betrayal.
Someone just betrayed me. The famous Crimson, me, has been set up by an Englishman. Or is he really? He might be some bogus middle man to trap me in all this.
Betrayal.
The audacity of those fucks! They should consider themselves dead after this. They...They...
Who are they exactly?
Fuck! That's another task I need to add on my list. The file is still my priority, though I have to set it aside for now so I could dice and mince those shits who played me. I can multi-task though I wouldn't mind focusing liberating them from this world literally.
Betrayal.
Is punishable by death in my book. Well, flirting and annoying me would give you a fast ticket to the other world, (if there's another world that is) but this insanity, this astrocious act... It shall be served with a hell of a ticket to the other world of the other world. It wouldn't be fast. No, it wouldn't. It'll be like a poison – gradual but deadly. And by the time I'm done with them, there won't be any left to foretell the betrayal and the aftermath.
Death.
Is their only fate.
As I mused about these things I noticed that I'm not yet dead.
Figures she wouldn't take the shot.
I didn't need to look back to see a distraught face. I know she's confused at what her brother had said. It bothered me too. Why would Agent Natsuo say that? We were not friends to begin or end with. Or could it be he simply doesn't want her sister to kill an innocent person?
Crimson and innocent don't mix together so well in a logical sentence.
Setting those aside my eyes trailed to the surroundings. The person who was outside the windowpane was clearly the shooter. I'm neither mad nor stupid to follow him knowing that it's too late. So I did what any intelligent person would do, I find clues.
Since entering this warehouse I felt something eerie about it. It's neither the overwhelming stench nor awful appearance, but more so about the vibes of it. I can't quite figure what is earlier but now it seems to click when I surveyed the place once more. It felt...
Fake. Staged. Fabricated.
This is really a trap.
Crap.
It was not meant to kill me because if it did they could just have blown the place up and I'm a goner. But no. Someone behind this set me up to...Well, set me up.
Lame and shallow, nonetheless that's all I have for now. Not a single clue on what the intention or intentions of the mastermind behind this.
It wouldn't be too long, however, before I find him and his claws. Wherever they are, they're going to suffer. Even after death I'll assure they won't find peace.
Peace is going to be overrated even for the dead when I'm done.
I knew there's some form of surveillance gadget in this area so I pretended to look around for an exit. I already found a couple when I entered, but they don't know that do they?
Of course not.
I pretended so they won't know that I'm onto them. They don't know that I'm quite aware that I'm being screwed, and that I'm currently looking for the ends of those loose screws so I could perfectly screw their ass up when I find them.
I'm eloquent when I'm in rage.
The file was still on the ground where I threw it. The chemicals coloured it to a nice ominous hue. There's nothing there. I've checked before hysterically pointing the gun at Natsuo. I know there's no hidden messages in it. The file is a plain folder containing a plain paper delivered by a now dead man.
Delivered.
Then I remembered the said dead man, Agent Natsuo. He's kind of a big shot in their agency if I recall. It's odd enough to find him delivering this package for someone who intended to kidnap his sister. Plus, he looked genuinely surprised to even see his sister being held captive by me. And the fact that he was baffled as I was when I said there's no file in it cleared one thing—he doesn't know what's in the file.
He was also set up.
As I said Natsuo Kuga is kind of a big shot in the agency. You can't touch someone like him without the upper hierarchy's approval, that or you're merely stupid to knock on the wrong door. I'm still unsure whether he was thrown into the wolves' den by his superiors or those bugs beneath his feet crawled up to bite his ass. Although they did more than biting this time, his sister can attest to that. Not that they'll have a decent conversation with her. One more word (even from me) they'll surely eat bullets for brunch or is it dinner already?
Even if I am fearless when it comes to death I am not stupid as to let myself killed by an emotional person holding a gun. Although I may act pompous, there's still a possibility, around one percent, that she'll do what she said about blowing my head off. Was that what she said earlier? I'm not sure. Nonetheless, with my skill I'm certain I'll be able to dodge her bullet.
What about the faint scratch in my left cheek? I was preoccupied earlier and even a professional like me can be distracted. Trust me the times wherein my defences were down are close to nil. And don't get your hopes up; you can't kill me even if you are the luckiest person alive.
Honestly, I'm a bit tired of people chasing after me. I mean, it's pointless for I can sense them a mile away. Since shetook me in, I was trained to be more than a soldier. The first thing shetaught me is how to survive and live in the shadows. The killing and clandestine operations were taught later in the years though she'd always say I have the knack for the former. I don't know. Maybe I guess I do. Normally a teenager would scurry in fear seeing a dozen of corpse early in the morning. Well, when I was a teenager I found them interesting and the least, scary of all. It's scarier to sleep at night without any weapon in arms reach.
Just my opinion.
As I'm telling you how keen my senses are, I was alerted of several unruly presence.
Here they come...
From what I can hear, there are at least 3 SUVs and four motorcycles waiting outside. There's also the distinct sound of a helicopter hovering not too far from where I stand. You can tell it's one of those government's hand me down aircraft.
Huh. So someone from the military or in the agency wants Natsuo dead and they want me to take the fall. It's flattering but at the same time stupid. They've chosen the wrong woman to mess with. They should have killed me when they had the chance.
Maybe they've heard my internal monologue because all of a sudden bullets were literally sprayed on our site. I took the shortest cover available and I landed unfortunately to the victims of this...whatever is this.
Conspiracy? Probably.
Revenge? For him or for me?
Clean out? I guess.
All of these are not relevant for now as I'm seeing a strangely familiar barrel of a gun. The same one aimed at me not so long ago.
"Please, if you really wanted to kill me you should have done it ages ago." I snatched it from her trembling hands. "And besides, how would you expect to get out of here alive if you kill me?"
"Shut up! I don't need your help, you murderer!" My former prey shouted.
"So I take it you can get out of here alive by yourself?" I told her while surveying the scene. I see the best exit, but its yards away and it won't do me any good to make a step for now.
Sigh. Flying bullets for almost two minutes now, how much fire power did they gear up? Are they expecting to neutralize a mob? Neutralize? Who am I kidding. Even a cat that was said to have nine lives would lose all of its life lines in less than three seconds, and would probably be in debt if caught in the crossfire.
Yes, that intense.
"I'll rather kill you here myself than let those bullets pulverize you." Natsuki stated though her voice is shallow and wavering to be considered as menacing for me.
I merely shrugged off while my back is still facing the devastated birthday girl. "If you say so, Green Apple." I emphasized the moniker.
Natsuki exasperatedly pounded my back. "Why you! Don't think for a second that I can't. I hesitated before and—"
"And what? If given another chance you'll surely," My back still talking to her, I formed quotation marks in the air making sure she sees it, "drill a bullet thru my head?"
Really, does she intend to make me laugh?
"I'm not—"
I interjected her again, my eyes rolling though she can't see it. "Take a number, Miss Kuga. You're not the only one who's after me."
She kept on talking whereas I zone out of my back and focus on what's in front.
Keyword: Focus.
Look, I'm train for all sorts of things. Even the unimaginable things you can come up with, more or less, I can do it. I was also taught how to exclude myself in a place and yet be in it at the same time.
Sounds confusing, no?
Okay then, picture this: You're in an extravagant party. You're mission is to kill a politician. Knowing it's a party for the rich and influential it is acceptable for them to have security left and right. And we're not talking about security guards; some of them are highly trained in combat and espionage. Yes, spy, military, mobster, goon, hitman, or whatever you call them. So what do you do then? Of course you should blend in with the crowd. Not merely by wearing the appropriate attire for you also need to mingle and look like you belong there. One mistake and you'll make yourself a human nail—you'll stand out, waiting for the others to hammer you.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is no work to them. They'll do it with pleasure.
I'm not sure whether they have institution to teach these things, I assure you being confident is sometimes enough. Although based from what I've seen throughout the years, bearing confidence and exuding overconfidence are different. In our world, if you're not able to fight with your life in the line and you bluntly tell another person you can...Well, either you're a dud or you have a death wish.
Choose only one, my fiend.
Anyhow, it's not enough that you blend in. No matter how good you are in doing so, if you cannot strike then how will you finish the job? Another dilemma, huh?
Heard of multitasking? Yes, for those who are capable of doing so, congratulations, for it'll be a tad easier than those who cannot. But before you jump for joy and sign up to wherever, I'm telling you it's only the beginning. You can scratch off number ten from the long list of what an operative should and shouldn't do.
Yes, there are a lot of things you have to know in this craft. Hold on, did I just say craft?
Crap. I sound cheesy.
Anyhow, before you get ahead of yourselves and go to the nearest bookstore. No, there's no book for dummies in this arena.
Don't yell, 'OMG! For real?' to my face or you won't get to say anything at all for a very, very, long time.
I'll leave it at that for now. I have given you too much information. Hell, I shouldn't divulge anything at all. It must be the smell of blood, bullets ricocheting everywhere, and the thrill to kill whoever behind this that made me so damn talkative.
One thing for sure: Revenge will be sweet. Sweet to the point a diabetic will need a higher dose of insulin.
The target, now the victim, has been talking nonstop. Of course, I'm not listening. Not that I'm dismissing any notion that she'll kill me. I know she wants to. But I also know that for some odd reason, she won't or maybe she can't? She's just a kid after all. A green horn one would say.
Do I need to elaborate?
Okay, I'll indulge you further because I can't really do much for now. They're still firing like crazy. Most likely they thought they could hit me if they try enough. Sheesh. It's them I'm worried about. Well, after this that is.
Where was I? Oh yeah, elaborate.
So have you heard of suicide rates? Read the statistics? I'm sure you have at one point. Anyway, one thing with women is that they're more likely to attempt suicide than men. However, more often than not, it's not successful. They've thought of it, of course, some of them even planned in detail, but when it comes to execution they fail. Why? Because by nature, women are fragile and emotional whereas men are brusque and narrow-minded.
Now, now, to the gentlemen out there, don't get offended. First, it won't do you any good. And second, I actually toned down the adjective from bigot to narrow-minded, and it has nicer ring to it, doesn't it?
Agree to disagree, it doesn't matter.
I was saying, women get into trouble of planning and even writing a suicide note, and then at the end they chickened out because generally once they've cried a river in the process of suicide, their senses become clear and that's when fear sinks in.
Fear of death, that is.
Men don't do crying that much so when they do...Ugh, trust me it's painful to watch. And when men become troubled, like in very deep shit they tend to look for the easiest way out which is, more or less, their unused gun tucked away in a drawer somewhere. Added depression with some liquor then they're good to go. Due to the lack of venting out, when they go into emotional turmoil, it's frequently in the apex. Their conscience and rationale thinking are in haywire and as I mentioned, they usually include liquor in their depress-suicide regimen, hence, numbing and inhibiting any second thoughts.
Wait. Maybe I should have said described men 'stupid' instead of narrow-minded?
Never mind.
So in relation to my situation, when an emotional woman like Natsuki Kuga tells me to shut up while holding a loaded gun, I shut up not because I was afraid she'll do it. I zip my mouth as to let her vent, to let her be rationale again so she'd hesitate. If I do more than necessary when she's in panic state then I'll eat a bullet or two for sure. Although I have to say, Agent Natsuo's final words were the ones who really shook his sister up. She may be projecting her anger towards me but I'm certain her brain is churning nonstop, processing the details and all the things that have transpired. At first glance she may appear as a green horn, but as I previously observed before, the girl is not what she seems to be.
I recognize a wolf when I see one. And I believe this girl is one in the making. Or more precisely, I'll be surprise if she didn't come out of her sheep's clothing anytime soon.
Plus, she's the sister of the infamous Agent Natsuo. Surely, he had taught her a few tricks. It would be impossible if he didn't. Also there's the interesting interaction earlier. It appears that they're very close, I meant used to be close seeing as his brother was already dead.
The thing is it's extremely unusual for a field officer of any agency to have a connection with his/her immediate family. There's a manual, I've stolen one due to curiosity, wherein it states that an agent must not, under any circumstances, reveal his/her real work to family, friends, and significant others. It was also highly suggested that an agent must not live and get in touch with his/her old life for at least one decade if possible to avoid superfluous risks.
Oh yes, it's easy nowadays to google who you're related with. It's best to move around to prevent compromising the safety of your loved ones. That, or don't have attachments with anybody. If you ask me, I prefer the latter.
Trust me.
Well, believe that last bit because all those crap I've said before? Suicide and shit? I just read it from some Dr. Quack, wait, I remember his name, was it Dr. Philly? Phillip? Phil? Who cares? I was in this stake out back in 2008 and the only reading article I could get my hands on was his.
And I didn't exactly expect the target to be a hardcore whacko. It's hard enough to follow a guy everyday for two weeks in a tropical country during summer. I enjoy being under the sun on vacation, not on the job. Oh, the white beaches, the fresh but humid air, the delicacies...the women, they're all so wonderful. Then again I'm on a job and I can hardly place any weapon on a two piece suit, now can I?
Nope. Not even a damn knife.
At any rate, I didn't have to trouble myself with bathing suits and my tools because the whacko man doesn't like natural light. He was a self-proclaimed vampire. Nobody believes him but he has a lot of money so people follow him when he goes into club during the night. During the day he goes around wherein there's tantamous amount of shade, and when I say around, I meant therapy.
Yes, those awful places wherein all you see are sofas with coffee tables, rooms painted white from top to bottom, some greens from leafy plants which are obviously well taken care of, medium to large sized aquarium holding a dozen expensive school of fish, a mini-waterfall or perhaps a pond minus the frog if you're lucky.
Sure, I've been there a couple of times to say I loathe them to death. I remember burning a couple two years ago and my hands are itching to start some again.
Then again, the target takes priority as always. So there was I following the target who was a certified retard visiting two therapist per day, every single day for two weeks.
For two god damn weeks.
Therefore, give me a break when I lowered my standards and read some mental crap article by some Dr. Quack.
Wait. What was his name again?
Anyway, to make my long story even longer. I accidentally entered a therapist room when I was trying to look for emergency exits.
Really, I swear I'm not lying. And even if I was, who are you to judge?
So when I realized I entered the wrong room I took the exit which is the same as the entrance.
Obviously.
But then there was this cheerful middle aged woman who pushed me gently towards a sofa bed. I was about to push her outside the window when she offered me drinks, and take note, she had my favorite tea so I hid my beloved Micron I.
Truthfully, I cannot recall having undergone therapy. I just detest the place simply because of its tranquillity. I find it incredibly disturbing that establishment such as these are built to treat people with mental problems they cannot handle.
I say kill them all.
But doing so would result to a massive increase of demands for coffins worldwide. Makers of coffins or urns—if they fancy cremation—would probably make a museum after my name. I find that tasteful although doing the said purging would lead to a substantial elimination of my current and future clients.
And I hate to say this, but I can't do that as much I'd like to. They pay for my tea bags, chinaware, cable tv and yes, my weapons. Currently, my several bank accounts are suffice enough to let me handle the first three, but the last one? Not for a long time. That certain obsession of mine cost a lot to begin with, and when you take maintenance into consideration, I really need a lot of money.
Besides I believe that a certain amount of evil should be tolerated to have some good old fashion fun in this world.
Life.
Death.
Tomato. Tomato.
Aren't they delightful?
As this famous model used to say, "One day you're in, the next day you're out."
What? I watch other than news.
And yes, I tweak what she said. If you don't know what I'm talking about, better not delve into it. I hate to see you lose some neurons thinking about it...
Right.
So our five minutes is up. Did you get anything at all from out not so short conversation?
I hope not.
If you did...Who are you kidding? Even I don't know what I've been saying up until now. I'm just wasting some time.
In the process I've cleared my head to formulate a strategy to escape with the least percentage of confrontation.
Do I have a plan?
What do you think?
Exactly.
Hold onto your seats and keep your mouth shut. I need some moment of silence to finalize my strategy. Any minute now, the boring dance of bullets would end, hopefully by then Miss Kuga here would shut up. After the silence, it would be followed by a brigade of armed forces dressed up like...well, armed forces.
Hah.
I suppose they'll throw some tear gas in the hopes of impaling us.
Yeah, yeah, I get the part that they want to take me alive. I'm the fall girl for this whole mess, correct? I'm aware as well that it's best for them that they appear to have tried their best to save Agent Natsuo, and when they didn't, they did the next best thing—capturing the culprit, me.
Yehey for them.
Oh yes, because of this set up I'm going to be the lethal villain in their lives. Their worst nightmare. The evil witch who lured little red riding hood. The wolf feared by the three little pigs.
What? I like their stories. They're oddly amusing. I suggest you read it too if you haven't.
Bottom line is, once I'm out of here, which I surmise will be more or less ten minutes, I'll make sure to hit them hard. You know, to repay them of this unexpected belated Christmas gift. Or perhaps, it's a New Year's present? Then again, who gives a present during New Years?
Hold that thought.
Back to the betrayal which until now, I still can't believe they've done to me. My blood boils even thinking about it.
Haven't they heard the saying, 'Don't snare a snake with a venom.'?
Oh wait. I just made that up too.
Hah.
Sure, I see the whole picture here. I don't doubt that I'm right. Because if calculated wrong, which I'm positive I did not, then I should have died hours ago. With the resources I'm sure they got, I'm certain they have a couple of c4s or perhaps grenades to spare if they really want me dead.
Really, really dead.
I noticed that they have planned this very well. But not well enough to know that they've underestimated my capabilities. I get their point; realistically speaking what could a single woman like me could do to a multibillion agency run by the most influential personalities around the globe?
A lot.That I promise you.
Moreover, I don't blame them for their naivety. Because it's human nature to be blinded by money and power. And when you have these two, you feel somewhat indestructible. You feel you can do anything. You feel that nobody can touch even a single fiber of your hair.
For the others, maybe. For me? Oh I can touch any damn part of your body. I can squeeze your ears, pluck your eyebrows and even add some wrinkle lines to your eyes. I can do all that, and more.
I sound cocky for someone who've never had formal spy training. There it is, I've said the 's' word.
Happy now? I bet you are. Enjoy it because it will be your last.
So I was saying, I've never had a formal training. When Sakura took me in, she personally trained me in an undisclosed island in the north.
No, she didn't left me in an island, expecting to battle monsters and feed myself for one month. You watch too much anime I say.
How come I know these things?
Oh, you'll be surprise how deep my fountain of knowledge is.
Just because I've never went to Afghanistan to acquire my first blood doesn't mean I don't know how real wars occur. Once I've accomplished my basic training under Sakura, I did some sort of on-the-job training with her by travelling the world with a gun under my skirt. One of my favorite stop over was in this little country in the south, you probably have heard it in the news, I don't like spoon feeding so the direction would suffice. Anyway, before it developed into a full blown war, it started as an uprising of a few disgruntled citizens. In a way, it's the same as a cold; it starts with a couple of sneeze and ends up with you unconsciously calling out for mercy. I've experience a severe cold and I was bedridden for a week. The feeling of being weak and helpless doesn't suit me at all. Since then I've learned to take vitamins and water therapy seriously. And drinking tea helps a lot too. Go on, try it.
You don't believe this time? It's your loss.
We can take this training, history and crap 101 next time because the staged shoot out is officially over. I have to say, it's quite convenient that Natsuo decided to be killed in this spot wherein several thick walls serves as our shield. The problem is the space in which we are safe from stray bullets is pretty much half an arm's length, so you could imagine how close I am with the talkative and now, hysterical Miss Kuga.
"I've seen this movie before, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, when they were cornered in a shopping mall and they were surrounded, but they charged in knowing they won't stand a chance sitting for so long. They only have bulletproof vests and a few guns on them. Do you happen to have bulletproof vest?" She asked rapidly and for a second I think she only breathed once to make that whole speech.
I shouldn't be paying attention to her at all, but if I don't attend to her prattles she might do something stupid that may get us both killed. So I turned around, looked at her in the eye and said, "Seriously?"
Yes, seriously. Did she think we're in some movie? That for some reason we could blaze around while being surrounded by numerous men? If you don't wish to live another day, go for it, otherwise, you patiently wait. Be calm and think to survive.
Apparently, Miss Kuga is anything but calm and patient. When she heard my reply loud and clear, only then she realized the ruckus has ended. She abruptly stood up, and if not for my swift reflex she probably have caught a bullet or two. Someone fired a rifle from behind.
They're not done. They're waiting like me. Perhaps they wanted at least one of us to be injured to look realistic.
"Dammit, Kuga! If you wish to join your brother, then tell me ahead—"
Surprisingly she had the nerve to snapped at me, "Shut up, you monster! If it weren't for you Natsuo won't be dead by now. YOU KILLED HIM!"
Ara...What a way to give me some credit for something I didn't do. But perhaps she is right. Because of me, Agent Natsuo is dead...Hold on, this isn't like me at all. I'm Crimson after all, why must I be bothered by a false accusation from a grieving teenager?
"Shut it, kid."
'That's right, real mature, Crimson.' My bipolar mind mocked me.
I was half-expecting her to throw another tantrum. She's good at it to be honest. Also that little stunt wherein she pretended to be dead.
Hah.
That particular image back in the car was absolutely hilarious. Though I should have probably applauded her efforts, it's not easy to pretend to be dead. What she did was pretty convincing, but she's unfortunate that I was the one who caught her. I've seen a lot in my job so I know the difference between a real corpse and a living human being. They're almost the same, except for the breathing part. And yes, the color is always a giveaway.
Amazingly she didn't throw a tantrum; she did the worst thing imaginable: she cried.
Cripes.
"Seriously? Stop crying or I'll put a gag on your mouth, I still have that tie from the trunk." I threaten her. I don't have the tie, but she doesn't know that.
It appears that I'm getting bad at making threats because she didn't stop crying, she just cried even more. Now she's on curled up on the floor.
"Great. Just great." I muttered in between curses.
~What's somebody like you, doing in a place like this?
Dammit. Not again. I've had enough with these mocking songs and their absolute bad timing.
"Where the hell is it?" I yelled at her. No good. It's coming from her purse and she's embracing it.
~Say, did you come alone or did you bring all your friends?
"I'm going to kill all your friends if you don't hand it to me." It's not an empty threat. I really want to kill the person who invented ring tones.
~Say, what's your name, what you're drinking? I think I know what you're thinking
It appears she's not going to budge, so immediately I utilize the softer approach. I dislike being the good person but the situation calls for it. I need her alive for my investigation after this fiasco is over, but my reservations in killing her wavers for the sake of acquiring the mobile phone which I intend to smash into little pieces. She's a part of this bull and somehow I sense that she's connected. They are right when they say that the dead doesn't talk.
"Look, I know you're upset and probably confused as hell. But—"
~Baby, what's your sign? Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.
Shit! Thanks for interrupting me.
I sighed deeply before continuing, "As I was saying, you need to get a hold of yourself. Your brother saved you so don't waste the chance to live by—"
~Say, what's somebody like you doing in a place like this?
"Fuck it! Give me that damn phone this instance!" That was the last straw, I make an effort to be kind then this...Fuck it all!
She doesn't move and continues to cry. I don't want to be a brute if unnecessary but I'm beyond pissed right now so I yanked her arms away from her knees. She was surprised, of course, but I honestly don't care. I was about to grab her purse when an explosion a few feet away startled us.
~I'll never be the same. If we ever meet again.
Everything happened so fast. One moment I was holding her arms, my hands almost touching her purse, then suddenly she was out of my reach. After the cloud of smoke dissipated I saw who took her forcefully from me—a stunning woman wearing a black overall. I would have taken the time to appreciate her beauty if not only for the fact that she has my former prey—no she's still my prey, my target—and that she carries an m16.
Feisty. I like her already.
~Won't let you get away. Say, if we ever meet again.
Shit. I was distracted again.
"Can you please turn off or answer the damn phone before you tell me who you are?" I requested not so kindly. I eyed the armoured car they—the intruder and Natsuki Kuga—was in.
"Crimson, I assume?" The stunning babe replied. Well, isn't her voice is velvety to my ears?
~This free fall, got me sold.
Shit. Distracted again.
"Who's asking?"
"No one you should be concerned about." She replied tersely.
She got an attitude, I tell you.
~Kiss me all night, don't ever let me go.
"I'm guessing you're from the agency same as Natsuo." I gestured my thumb towards the corpse of the said man. It was interesting that I noticed her brown eyes wavered for a second.
Very interesting.
I continued as she was temporarily incapable of forming a pragmatic response. "I assume you've heard everything from the wires attached to him." This time, not only did I gain a dilated brown eyes, I received also the attention of those impeccable, surreal green ones.
See how I get the attention of the ladies? Take note, you guys.
Hah.
~I'll never be the same. If we ever meet again.
That insufferable mobile phone!
"I'm not asking nicely again, Miss Kuga. Please answer the damn phone, so that damn music would stop!"
I said I was eloquent when in rage, right?
~Say, if we ever meet again.
But instead of obliging my request, she eyed the newly arrived woman. "Charlie, what is she saying? Why did Natsuo have wires attached to him? What was he doing here in the first place?"
"Charlie, huh?" I noticed the slight tremble in her arms when I announced her name. "So you two know each other, yes?"
~Do you come here much? I swear I've seen your face before.
Charlie was about to open her mouth when she was interrupted by Miss Kuga. "It's none of your business, Pumpkin." This garnered us both a curious glance from Charlie. "Or Crimson. Or whatever the hell is your name."
I eyed her greens and was surprised to see she's holding the stare fest. Reluctantly, I dropped my gaze and stated, "Okay, whatever." I shrugged and turned around as I examined the surrounding.
"Agent Charlie," I'm certain she's listening so I continued, "If you're planning on taking Miss Kuga and his brother's corpse, then I suggest you do it now. It won't be long before they get here."
I heard a word of assent. I can't discern who replied because it was almost a whisper, so I looked behind and saw someone's behind.
I'm not making a joke.
Miss Kuga sat on the farend of the vehicle still shocked to whatever the agent told her. I'm not particularly interested with their conversation. I'm sure she's feeding her a bunch of lies. What I'm interested about is that pretty bum faced towards me as its owner is busy getting her tools, probably to collect her partner from the scene.
A devil whispered in my right ear and hence I said, "I must say, Agent Charlie, you did a wonderful job making that little diversion. You must be good at that...diversions, care to give me a personal demo?"
The said agent must have heard the blantant innuendo for she gave me her full attention. Realizing I was looking intently at her ass, her face was painted with my favored color.
~Hope you don't see me blush, but I can't help but want you more.
Oh, another cute blush.
Oddly, the other woman whose blush I find so endearing hours ago was giving me an evil eye. I scrutinized the two and it appears they're not close enough to be lover. More like acquiantances or at best, friends, I say. So why did she gave me that look? Oh, well. I shouldn't be bothered with this.
Still blushing Charlie said, "Crimson, we are here to retrieve Miss Kuga and Agent Natsuo. Also, your presence is required at our base."
~Baby, tell me what's your story. I ain't shy, don't you worry.
I laughed a bit after she gave her piece. "That's rich. Base? You meant to say, your agency? Don't take me for a fool. I'm not going near your fortress knowing I won't get away unscathed. Go on, leave. I can take care of myself."
"If that's what you'd like to believe in, Crimson. We have no choice but..."
"Yes? What will you do if I decline your generous offer? Let's hear it." I said evenly.
"I—"
Green apple interjected again, "Don't expect her to be civil, Charlie. If she doesn't want to then let her die on her own. Let's just go with my brother." The other living agent in the room retrieved the corpse behind me while the brave teenager who stands before me, stared at me again.
~I'm flirting with my eyes I wanna leave with you tonight.
"What?" I smirked. It's entertaining how she can stare back at me. Under normal circumstances, anyone looking back at me that intensely, I've most likely dissected their organs.
She must have seen the amusement in my eyes and briefly she blushed again. I don't know what to think about this woman anymore. One moment she's angry at me, flirty, kind... She's so confusing and yet I still find myself looking at her with admiration.
She really is beautiful.
~Do you come here much? I've gotta see your face some more. Some more 'coz baby I...
A beautiful wonder I know I need to let go. "You should leave now." I stated when I noticed that the enemies are fast approaching.
She bit her lips and hesitantly said without looking at me in the eye, "You really don't want to leave with us?"
Not only she's beautiful but also astoundingly cute. I grinned freely this time, "I have to say. I find your personality charming yet disturbing. You confuse me and at the same time, you enthral me," I walked towards her and gently played with her smooth hair, and then I gingerly whispered, "Natsuki."
~I'll never be the same. If we ever meet again.
I felt her suffuse with my favorite color. But really, I'm not teasing her. I'm merely saying what I really thought of her. She's different and she's fascinates me. She's not her,but she utterly intrigues me.
'And she happens to be your target.' My mind supplied again at the wrong moment.
Yes, yes, I know.
"Let's go, Miss Kuga. We leave in three." Charlie entered the back of the armoured car, said something to driver and acknowledged me, "Crimson, you do know you're not getting away next time." She stared at me gravely with those brown eyes, but somehow I don't find them enchanting anymore. I quickly resume my stare fest with the blushing owner of those splendid green eyes.
Without even thinking, I said while gazing at her, "I think green is my favorite color next to red." This has earned me a deeper color of red.
Scrumptious color.
Before the door completely closed, I heard one final line from the irritating gadget.
~Won't let you get away. If we ever meet again.
"Trust me," I said resolutely to no one in particular, "I won't let her get away next time."
X
X
X
FYI: The song is entitled If We Ever Meet Again by Timbaland ft. Katy Perry.
This song is awesome and I listened to it almost close to a hundred while writing this. Lol. Crazy, I admit but it gave me the needed push to finish this chapter. So thanks T and K for the song.
Apologies for the jumbled and missing words/punctuation marks. It got messed up while re-uploading. No idea why.
My deepest gratitude to those who are still waiting for this story. I'm a terrible updater, but you know I have a valid reason, right? Anyway, thank, thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks...
Till next time.
Side Story:
(Crimson called me after the end of chapter 5.)
Crimson: So Waki, what happens now?
Waki: What do you mean?
Crimson: Well, I appreciate all the trouble you've put me in, but I was wondering how would I get out of here alive.
Waki: *gulp* Kzzzhhh~I c-an't hear you~Kzzzh
*Dial tone*
Crimson: *throws her mobile phone* Dammit, Waki!