Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The farm.
"Sometimes it's all in the way you say it."
A lesson, learned from Guerrero. Ilsa had taken it to heart.
"Well, in that case…", she repeated for emphasis.
"Do not let her know that celebrating without her is not an option. Do not let her know how important her participation is."
More useful Guerrero lessons.
"Make it clear that you're damn serious."
She could actually hear his voice.
"Start with breaking her thumbs and then work your way down to the kneecaps."
Okay, scratch the last part, but the rest was right on. Ilsa put on her strictest no nonsense face.
"You might want to remove yourself from Nelly's life, but Nelly is intent to incorporate the life and family that was denied to her into her new life as much as possible. To begin with, she's going to make several Hamilton traditions part of her wedding ceremony. She's going to get married in her grandmother's wedding gown. She's also going to use her mother's baptism candle and she'll have the traditional Hamilton wedding blessing and song recited. Do you really want the woman with the pyramid to say that blessing? Do you really want the whole community sing that song? In a most likely remodeled version?"
Estelle replied with an icy stare.
She didn't say anything for the rest of their stay at the farm. She also remained silent during the ride back to the hotel in Ilsa's limousine.
When she finally got out of the car, Ilsa wanted nothing more than to ask her what she was going to do, but asking would have indicated weakness.
Another Guerrero lesson.
She watched as Estelle stepped up the stairs to her hotel, not looking back.
The wedding was supposed to be the day after tomorrow and there were still tons of unresolved problems, one of them being that Garcia, the hardcore vegan would be in charge of the farm the day of the wedding and thus, according to farm rules, have a say in the catering. Ilsa decided she was not going to waste her time and energy on this woman who was too stubborn to understand that she should thank God or the Gods or the Force or whatever (they had had dinner at the farm) because she had her niece back after all these years instead of throwing a spanner in the works.
"If she doesn't come voluntarily, we'll use Rohypnol", she decided.
Oh boy, someone definitely spent too much time with Guerrero…
… … …
The day before the wedding. Emma's house.
"If this is about Guerrero again, you're wasting your time", Chance told Emma straight away. She looked as if she was up to something: Freshly applied make-up, carefully styled her, figure-hugging dress…
"You're really asking me to forget the whole disaster in South America?"
"It was my wish to let them go. It's neither Guerrero's nor Ilsa's fault. Besides that you were commended for finally nailing Araña, weren't you?" Chance wondered when he had started talking to her like that.
Was he judging her for putting an end to the BRM killer?
Seriously? He, of all people?
Or was he maybe judging her because she had simply moved on, started rebuilding her career and except for a night of crying in his arms shown no remorse whatsoever for taking a life in that awful way?
"Actually the commendation is why I asked you to come. You won't believe it, but the Washington bureau wants me back." She looked triumphant. Chance forced himself to smile.
"Congrats."
"We're a great team, you and me", she continued. "I could get you into the bureau as a consultant. We could go places together." Emma looked excited. She had spent days picturing this moment.
Chance got up.
This was not at all as she had pictured it.
"No way, Emma."
"What is keeping you here? In that shabby warehouse, running around with these people… I could get you legit papers, a new name, a new life… with me…" She let the implications hang in the air.
Chance walked out the door.
… … …
The farm.
"Okay, we agree – the password is "Open Sesame!". Everybody who utters these words is allowed into the barn where we'll put up the second buffet and the second wedding cake." Ilsa absent-mindedly rubbed her forehead. The caterer would probably be astounded that she was asking him to transport his food in a truck saying "Handmade hemp clothes", but considering the amount of money he was receiving, he'd hopefully be wise enough not to ask.
She was really not in the mood to answer any questions. Things were as they were, period.
"But you have to spread words among the guests that they have to eat at least one piece of Garcia's cake, too", Nicole insisted. "And not more than five people at once should file over to the barn. Any more would be suspicious…."
Ilsa nodded and moved on to the next problem on the list. "The transportation issue… the guests are still not allowed to arrive in cars because of the hole in the ozone layer?"
"Carriages aren't an option either, the exploitation of any kind of animals was strictly vetoed by several community members…"
"If the guests parked on the other side of the hill and mastered the last part of the way by bike, would that be acceptable?"
Nicole looked at Ilsa and smiled. "You start thinking like someone who lives here!"
Ilsa wondered if somewhere in heaven Marshall was laughing right about now.
All this wedding organizing was bringing back memories she had thought long lost – scenes from her own wedding, small shreds of memories she hadn't remembered in years.
She looked outside and a strange sight caught her eyes. She could barely make out the figure in the rapidly sinking sun.
"What's the matter with Chantrelle?", she asked Nicole.
Nicole rolled her eyes. "Trust me, you really don't want to know."
… … …
The farm, outside.
Night was almost breaking when Chance arrived at the farm. Theoretically he was supposed to watch over Harry and make sure he didn't get into trouble the day before his wedding, but Nelly had picked up on his rather upset mood and sent him to the farm. "Nothing takes your mind off your troubles faster…", she had told him.
Oh how right she was.
He almost ran over Chantrelle who was apparently heading for the small forest behind the farm. Chance got out of the car to make sure she was alright. "Hey, what's the matter with…" He let his sentence trail off. She looked terribly sad and her eyes were puffy.
"I'd really like to conduct a purifying rite to clear the energy field around the farm for Frelly's wedding. But nobody seems to be interested."
Talk about taking your mind off troubles…
Ten minutes later they were on a clearing in the forest. Chantrelle had lit a fire in its center. "Watch out for the common ragweed", she told Chance. It can cause skin rashes." All around them the night was falling quickly.
She started to undress and so did Chance after a moment of hesitation.
The fire's golden glow enhanced the muscles on Chance's naked body, illuminated his broad chest and put interesting highlights on the small sweaty patches on his buttocks.
A sight that would've surely spiraled most women into temporarily incoherency.
Chantrelle, however, didn't see. She was concentrated on the words of her chant, on the twinkling stars that dotted the night sky on the warmth of the fire that lit up her naked body and made her feel in harmony with nature and life.
Chance didn't feel exactly in harmony with everything, but he was definitely feeling better. Emma had made him an offer and he hadn't taken it.
For the first time in a long while not because he felt he didn't deserve it but because he felt she didn't deserve it.
What a strange new thought.