An exquisite aroma emanated from the pots in the kitchen, anticipating the deliciousness that would satisfy at dinner… only this time, the father wouldn't take credit for such a feat. To the surprise of Loke and little Helen, Lucy offered herself to prepare the southern stew her family loved so much and which she learned to perfect through effort and time.
Her reputation as cook hadn't changed much since the end of Operation Strix and the occasions in which demonstrated her culinary skills, she almost always came down to assisting Loke; therefore, the presentation of this special dish on the table could only be due to an exceptional event.
"Cheers to your fourth stella, Helen!" Loke toasted with his wife and daughter, very pleased with the little girl's achievement in school, "It's clear that you have worked hard in these three months, I can't believe that you have obtained first place on the Classical Language quarterly test!"
"How much faith you have in me, Papa," she squinted ironically.
"Of course, he does, just like me!" seconded Lucy. "You've to teach me how you learned that language so easily."
"Ok, Mama," smiled the girl, "Maybe after rehearsing my lines."
"That's other surprise," the spy grabbed the jar to pouring orange juice in three glasses. "They named you the protagonist of, eeeh…?"
"The Maiden's Consent," she reminded him of the title of the play.
"And all the actresses will consent to marrying being girls or what?" Lucy imagined the future scenario.
"No, sweetheart," his husband explained her, "The story recounts Francisca's dilemma, a young woman that must marry with the burgher Diego by order of her mother; but she actually loves Carlos, another guy of her age. Eventually, the fifty-year-old man finds out about the lady's feelings and allows her to be happy with whom she truly loves."
Will I marry with an old man?! Helen's mind shook.
"Oh, I see," Mrs. Leo understood it, "Don't you think it's an unfit subject for second graders?"
"That's what I thought, but I guess they'll make a children's adaptation of the play," Loke tasted another bite of stew. "Mmm… how delicious is this, Lucy!"
"Thank you!" she blushed for the compliment.
"Will you help me to rehearse, Mama?" spoke the little girl.
"Sure, sweetheart," the mother got up and went to Helen's seat to carry her with much joy and pride, "You're going to dazzle everyone on stage!"
Loke watched them celebrate and smiled fully at the peace reigned in his home. Lost in his thoughts, he took stock of the first days of their coexistence and the progress they had made as a family up to the present, confirming once again the pinnacle mission of his career had also become the path to life that he longed for so much have.
In that, the ringing of the phone brought him back to reality and in order not to ruin the tender moment between mother and daughter, he offered to answer the inopportune call at that time of night.
"Leos, who's calling?" he picked up the telephone and glanced to Lucy and Helen in within seconds, then looked back at the machine. "Yeah, sure, it would be a matter of reviewing the medical record. Why don't you give it to me that first thing tomorrow?" he waited a while, "All right, see you at the office. Good night…"
"Mama, your stew taste great!" Helen praised to her mother, just as she returned her to her place and Loke hung up the phone, "There's more?"
"Enough to eat other three times," smiled Lucy, who contemplated how thoughtful her husband looked. "My love, come: the food's getting cold."
"Huh?" Y-yes, I'm starving" he outlined an unnatural smile.
"Who's called?" asked her.
"Just a colleague," Loke told her, "Looks like another patient will come to the hospital."
"And you'll do an excellent job with him," she kissed him on the cheek to encourage him, "Don't stress ahead of time, ok?"
"Don't worry, I'll try not to," he appreciated her concern and when looked forward, Loke noticed his daughter was examining him for a long time. "Helen?"
"I love you so much, Papa," it was the only thing the girl said and she knew, through the expression on his face, that she achieved to rescue him again from his spiral of conflict.
That's how the Leos put the subject aside and enjoyed what was left of the dinner, very excited to finish washing dishes and sit down to watch a movie, until the dream beat them.
[…]
"Good day… or rather, good evening, agent Loke."
"Handler," he greeted mira with a movement of his hat, "A new mission?"
"Our antenna intercepted a signal from East:" she was straight to the point and turned back without leaving her chair, only to point out a diagram with all the details of the operation, "We have strong indications that a far-right terrorist mob plot to kill Heinrich Dorham, one of the candidates for the presidency of Ostania."
"The reports reveal something?" he received a voluminous file.
"His government project opposes the goal of their group: to break off relations between Ostania and Westalis," Handler used a red marker to enclose with two circles the target of the mission and another Western official.
"The current president of our country?" Loke recognized him.
"Exactly," she connected both men with an arrow. "Dorham revealed his intentions to promote a new trading arrangement with Westalis, but the consequences of this treaty would clash with the interests of another radical factions. My point is the mob would use any excuse to argue that Westalis attacked Ostania and get rid of a peacemaker who aspires to power, in passing."
"I understand," he snorted, "I have to protect the candidate, right?"
"From a distance," mira crossed her arms, "He mustn't know we're taking care of him, so you take charge of the terrorists. They'll be thirty or forty."
"Consider it done," Loke sat down in front of her and took a pencil to underline the most important details of his new mission. "Luckenwalder?"
"It's the name of the hotel where Dorham and his party officials will meet, for a benefit ceremony," she gave him a map of the place located in the Berlint shopping area. "The mob has an indiscreet record, so the probability of an attack at that place is high. Obviously, I trust this job will be easy for you."
"Sure, for the world peace," he answered.
However, something in his tone of voice alerted Handler: analytical as usual, she turned her desk seat around and devoted herself to supervising her subordinate's work in silence; since her arrival at the bunker, she noticed the agent seemed more reserved than usual and although she wasn't one to meddle in other people's affairs, she was quite intrigued that Loke didn't even react to her insistent surveillance. Smiling, she sighed against their clasped hands: had Westalis' best spy changed so much since his last great mission?
"I don't want to be rude… but if it has nothing to do with the case, I'd like to know why you watch me so much," Loke finally looked at mira, "That's a little awkward."
"Have I ever given you explanations?"
"There's always a first time for everything," he replied her, very calm.
"Look who's talking," she smiled and aligned her glasses. "How are they?"
"Very good," the spy knew who she meant, "Helen must be in her last class of the day and I guess Lucy's already come back from work. I bet later on she will cook her a delicious cup of milk-chocolate, just the way my daughter likes it…"
"How romantic, agent," mira laughed at his spontaneous smile.
"When will the mission begin?" he wrapped things up.
"I'm glad you asked it, so much sweetness overwhelms me," she raised up and just shook her head, "This Saturday, at five in the afternoon."
"Ok, tomorrow…" a few seconds later, he repeated the last, "Tomorrow?!"
"Any problem with that?" she dared him.
Loke only moved her lips, aware that no pretext would change Handler's mind, and resigned himself to accepting the mission without question… while Loke Leo, the devoted father and husband, felt devastated at the thought of missing the theatrical debut from Helen during the Fairytail Academy's anniversary.
[…]
Helen's joyful screams in the living room heralded the start of her favorite series, as part of her sacred routine before she did homework; however, her concentration on the plot of the new episode had gone quite far, when little Leo interspersed her fascination for Bondman with notes about his performance in her notebook, and was swearing to Bond that she'd apply the great hero's genius to the play of tomorrow.
Such matter had the girl very excited, so much so that her telepathic ability was vanished for a while and she couldn't perceive the sadness of her mother, who pretended to read a journal to forget the latest event in the office.
/ / /
Luckenwalder Hotel. Saturday, five in the afternoon. Reception room at seventh floor. Protection for Heinrich Dorham and killing of terrorist mob.
/ / /
Since the revelation of her true identity to Loke and Helen, Garden had made the decision to communicate with her by terse telegrams during workday, using Principal McMahon as an intermediary: it was one of the new conditions imposed by the Shopkeeper to stay at his service and that didn't bother her, except that her future murder would take her a long time and this time, she wouldn't have support from anyone.
Lucy wiped away a treacherous tear and discreetly hid her sorrow and fear of not witnessing Helen's performance at seven at night. Just when she achieved to calm down, her beloved husband came home.
"Good afternoon, Loke!" she smiled as much as she could, receiving a warm hug of him, "I'm glad you came early."
"Lucy," he kissed on the forehead and then caressed her cheek, lost in her eyes, "I craved to see you too."
"We seem to miss each other a lot," Lucy giggled, shyly.
"Papa and Mama are flirting!" Helen exclaimed from her place in front of the television and then ran up to Loke's leg, "I want a hug!"
"Helen!" he carried her in his arms, without separating from Lucy, and kissed their cheeks, walking to the living room, "How did you do today, honey?"
"I rehearsed a lot with my friends!" the girl talked about her progress in the play, "Ah, and guess what, Papa: Bill Watkins will act like the old man they want me to marry!"
"Really?" he was surprised, "Doesn't he the big boy of Wald House?"
"Yes, that's him! He got the second highest score on the Classical Language test and that's why they included him in the play…"
A string of words composed Helen's longest speech to date, to the point that making Loke and Lucy believe that Spy Wars had been moved from her list of preferences. Beneath their masks of joy, the girl's enthusiasm reopened the abyss at the couple's feet, accentuating their dilemma of fulfilling their missions at the cost of missing their daughter's most desired presentation… and they were so absorbed in their grief that were slow to react when Helen kept silent, as if their seriousness had affected her.
"Darling?" Lucy was the first to noticed it and pulled her out of Loke's arms to cradling her, "What happen, you feel sick?"
"Sick?" Loke touched her forehead, "It's weird, she doesn't have a fever."
"Don't worry, I'm fine," smiled Helen, calmer, "First let's have a lunch and then we'll rehearse, ok? I promise I'll work hard and will be the best actress in the play for you!"
The couple felt renewed with Helen's innocent oath and in their attempt not to dissapoint themselves, they decided to forget about all their problems just to become the most qualified acting teachers in Berlint, who would fulfill their beloved daughter's fantasies.
Between recitals, pranks and various food orders, the Leos spent the next five hours rehearsing Helen's lines, until her own hyperactivity made her sleep deeply; as Loke and Lucy fixed the mess made throughout the living room.
"Sometimes I wish I had Helen' energy," celebrated Lucy, "Did you see she didn't even take her break, because she wanted to practice more?"
"And neither are we" laughed Mr. Leo, while he held the girl in his arms, "I think we deserve to sleep too."
"I agree!" Lucy followed him until Helen's room, made up her bed and later, she said goodbye to her with a kiss on his head. "Sweet dreams, my dear…"
With great delicacy, Loke took Lucy outside, closed the door, and then they entered their room together; as soon as they put on the pajamas and lay down on the bed, a great tension settled between them and forced to stare at each other, waiting for anything they could say.
"Tomorrow is the big day," Loke tried to sound calm.
"That's it," Lucy couldn't keep her eyes on him. "Helen will be a star."
"I know," he sighed against his will. "You will work, right?"
"Only part-time," she lied, "You too?"
"Yes," the spy smiled listless, "We meet tomorrow?"
"S-sure," the assassin hesitated unintentionally, "Why wouldn't it be?
The question remained in the air, without Loke and Lucy giving a concrete answer. For a moment, they felt his company as strained as the first time they shared the bed, and that reminded them the era in which they forged their marriage based on lies, as well as the subsequent promise not to hide their problems again and supporting each other.
While they were meditating about it, their hands had already found under the sheets and their bodies melted into the strongest and most moving embrace, allowing Lucy to release the crying that she had repressed for hours. For his part, Loke sought refuge in her neck and clinged more to his wife, as if through said act he was asking him for forgiveness.
"G-Garden…" it was the only thing the assassin said.
"Garden?" he repeated, curious.
"He tasked me to kill some despicable people for tomorrow," she breathed, uncomfortable for revealing him the details of her job, "It might take me a long time and that makes me sad, I don't want to miss Helen's debut."
"My dear…" he held on more to her, empathic.
"I'm so sorry," she kept crying.
"No, Lucy, don't think about it. Just…" Loke snorted against her chest, thinking of a way to telling her about his mission and making her feel less guilty; but he didn't know how to start and issued an only word. "WISE."
"You too?" this time, the assassin was surprised and took the spy's face, "B-but, how so?"
"Do you remember the call of yesterday?" as he saw her nod, he continued, "I have to safeguard in secret the life of an Ostanian politician, it seems that someone plot to kill him during a public event."
"That was the medical record they were going to give you today?" said Lucy, referring to the file he spoke of at dinner last night.
"You know how it works," he twisted his lips, "Believe me if I could…"
"I understand, Loke," she kisses on the forehead, "By what authority would I claim you?"
"It's not fair to our daughter," he cleaned Lucy's tears.
"I know," she touched his tip of the nose. "Did they tell you what time?"
"Five in the afternoon, at Lucken"
"Luckenwalder Hotel" Lucy completed the phrase, capturing his attention, "In the reception room at seventh floor?"
"Yes," Loke sat on the bed at the same time as his wife, amazed to hear so many coincidences. "I have to sabotage the plans of a terrorist mob."
"To protect the candidate Heinrich Dorham!"
"That's right! Wait, don't tell me that" he was silenced by a quick and passionate Lucy's kiss.
"Loke," she clenched her fists with great determination, "There's a way to get to the play early. We must do it for Helen!"
"Lucy…" he didn't have to ask the details and he only achieved to smile and hug her, very excited with her proposal.
[…]
Two in the afternoon. At the request of the Fairytail Academy, the students had to attend a little later than usual, with no more implements than what was necessary for their performances on the central day of the school's anniversary. As people rushed in and out the wings of dais, Helen tried to resist the dizziness caused by so many mixed thoughts and sitting on a stool with Becky, clutched the bag containing her costume for the play.
"I can't believe I'll be your maid!" whined Blackbell.
"Is it my fault you got fifth on the exam?" the little Leo laughed.
"Hmp! I hope you don't get used to this and remember that I'm still a first-class girl."
"Eat peanuts, you feel better," Helen offered her one of the ten packets she kept I her suitcase.
"Oh well," Becky accepted and instantly, her annoyance changed to a dreamy smile. "At least, Loke will see me perform in the front row!"
As usual. Helen thought.
"What manners, my lady," replied Martha, Becky's protectress, "You must to be wiser to talk, someone could hear you."
"What's wrong with proclaiming love?" she screamed with joy, then look at Helen, "Truuue! Talking about it, you will unleash a war!"
"Don't start again," Helen bowed her head.
"Why not?" Damian will writhe from jealousy when he sees how you and Theodore Russel fall in love in the play! I'll ask someone to film the arrogant Desmond in secret, whilst…!
"For the love of God…" Martha hided her face, very embarrassed.
"Shut up, Becky!" Helen stopped her by watching a fancy woman approach them, "Sy-on Boy's Mama is coming here."
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Desmond," Martha greeted her with respect.
"Finally, I found you!" smiled Melinda, crouching at Helen's height. "I know my son won't play today, but when Lucy told me you will acting, I decided not to miss it!" she added with a big smile.
"Oh, t-thanks?" the girl hesitated, incredulous for her enthusiasm.
"Then will you help us with the costumes, Mrs. Desmond?" the idea pleased Martha, "The thing is the Blackbells won't come until six o'clock and miss Leo's parents don't arrive yet."
"Not yet?" Melinda looked at Helen, "Why? Lucy's always on time, as same as her husband."
"It's just…" she paused and smiled, hopeful, "It's just Mama and Papa must work too much today, but they'll come in any moment, you'll already see!"
[…]
A call broke the silence of the Rommel Suite, where Heinrich Dorham planned to stay all night, before traveling to Nielsber to follow with his election campaign. With an encouraging voice, the politician gave his interlocutor a few guidelines and then cut off the talk saying "See you tomorrow at the airport."
"Eh?" the doorbell rang as soon as room service arrived, "Come in!"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Dorham," a young girl with black and braided hair entered, pulling a trolley with toiletries, "Here I bring all the colognes you ordered earlier."
"Yes, yes, put them on the bath," he nodded with indifference, "I don't know who perfumed the bed with lavender, what a nasty scent."
"If you'd like, I can call to someone that will resolve"
"And to end up sleeping with hundreds of smells on top?" the politician interrupted her, "No way: my rating of 'three stars' will be enough to show you my disagreement with the service. Hmp! Third-class people, what could I expect from you?"
The waitress preferred to reserve her comments and went with the trolley to the bathroom, depositing the expensive colognes on the shelf. While doing her duty, she reviewed in her mind the corners she achieved to see in the suite and wondered if the Shopkeeper hadn't been wrong in asking her to only kill the terrorists, uncomfortable with the arrogance of the candidate who pretended to sympathize with the people.
"Four-thirty, too late!" Dorham looked at his watch and raised immediately from his armchair, with a portfolio between his hands. "Don't forget to open the windows, see if that will dispel the smell of lavender! I'll be back in three hours; by then, I want the champagne bottle I order."
The girl curtsied and waited for the candidate and his guards to leave the suite before taking a suitcase from the trolley and putting it under the bed; she then walked around the room, while fitted a small device into her right ear.
"Loke?" she whispered.
"Heh… you don't have to call me that, darling," her husband's jovial voice echoed through the microphone. "Everything in order?"
"Yes, for now," Lucy watched each place of the suite, discreet, "But being honest, I envy you: you don't have to vote in the elections that are coming."
"An advantage of being Westalian," he joked. "Why do you say? Has Dorham treated you badly?"
"Not quite, I'll explain you later," she changed the subject to registering the bedroom and kitchen. "The suite is very large, too much for one man. I opened all the windows; in case we need an escape route."
"Well done, Lucy. You're doing a great job."
"What about you? Do you find them?" she beheld the panorama from one of the suite windows.
"So far, I only recognized the guests I saw in my file. It's hard not to know the faces of these scums. Garden didn't tell you more about it?"
"No, they're, eeeh…" she thought of a precise adjective to qualify them, "Concise? Anyway, I shouldn't distract you…"
"Don't worry, listening to you crj-crj," suddenly, there was intereference on the other side of the line, "Wait."
"Loke?" she cared about her husband.
"Get ready, Lucy. I'll wait crj seventh floor."
"A-alright," she nodded, "Please be careful."
"You too, my dear. We m crj" the line went dead.
Lucy took off the microphone and as Loke had taught her before entering the hotel, she disintegrated it with her fist, while her gaze changed to adopt the role of Thorn Princess.
As this was happening in the Rommel Suite, Loke went around the first floor disguised as a bellboy, escorting the first twenty guests to the meeting on the seventh floor. Like Lucy, he too caught the break in the signal, and that could only mean one thing: the presence of two emissions that, due to the force of the obstruction, had intersected in a small area. The fact that one of the assistants wanted to communicate with the ringleader of the possible attack was already irrefutable evidence and with great caution, Loke stood next to the elevator commands to supervise them all.
An instrumental tune enlivened the atmosphere in the elevator cabin; though for Loke, it was the prelude to the chaos that would mar the benefit ceremony… and as he pondered the matter, she felt his stomach tighten. It was certainly one of those times when the famous spy from Westalis couldn't control his anxiety, but a greater force saved him from falling into that bottomless pit and his mind found space to think about the trials of Helen within Fairytail Academy, as well as the faith placed in Lucy, who had surely successfully infiltrated the reception room.
You promised her: you're a man of his word, of course you'll do! Everything is for your family. Loke was encouraged to himself until the elevator bell announced to him they arrived to seventh floor, and gestured for the guests to across the door that opened, "Forward, please!"
The crowd left the elevator and after a minute, Loke prepared to go down to the basement, where the changing rooms for the employees were; about to press the down button, a waiter put his hand on the sliding door and entered just before the elevator cabin was closed. The fake bellboy pretended to adjust his sleeves, hoping to get rid of the stranger who had pressed the button to the twentieth floor; but the moment never came and he had to retract his wish upon hearing a weird conversation on part of that man.
"I already checked the wiring system," he spoke to a radio pinned to his lapel, without dropping his silver tray, "Someone wait for me at the elevator door, be alert when the headlight illuminate the sixth circle."
Headlight, sixth circle… Loke repeated the words in his mind and had no trouble associating them with Dorham's party emblem and a Dante's sixth circle metaphor to point out the five in the afternoon; thus, concluded that he was in front of one of the terrorists. "And what will be the main dish for the benefit ceremony?"
"Excuse me?" The man looked at him, suspicious.
"Copper is the best conductor there exist", he changed the subject of food for electricity, and so on, "By any chance, are you a plumber too?"
"What the hell…?" the fake waiter was disturbed by so many questions and was slow to respond to the agility of Loke, who took away the tray to hit him.
The spy staggered a bit and uttering a rudeness, he made sure that the criminal was unconscious to take away his radio equipment and the weapon that he kept under his vest; then he reached up to open a part of the roof and before the machine stopped at the twentieth level, he went out of the elevator cabin, right on top of the supporting cables.
"What does this mean?!" Loke made sure to cover the wall and saw three henchmen dressed as waiters, especially one giving instructions to them, "Damn it, they found out... tell Fritz, we must to hasten the attack!"
Loke shuddered at the sudden threat and without noticing the lack of firmness of the open roof, the new movement of the elevator made him loosen the wall unintentionally, revealing her hiding place.
"Shit!" he spun in time to avoid the gunshots and without delay, deactivated the handle that controlled the speed of the elevator, so beginning a sudden descent of the cabin.
The screams of the terrorists and the screeching of the cables in friction pierced his ears, the roar almost prevented him from holding on and despite the agitation, the spy achieved to return the lever to its original position, causing the machine to brake suddenly due to inertia. The jolt was inevitable for Loke and the terrorists but only the last ones fell unconscious; however, he didn't care about their condition and took advantage of his bellboy disguise to enter the elevator cabin again and play the role of the victim.
"Help me please!" as the elevator opened, the spy crawled into the third-floor corridor, "There are four armed men, call the police!"
"My God!" exclaimed the administrator of third level, in the midst of some guests' horror, "What has happened here? Speak up, boy!"
"I'm not sure, I just know those guys were going to kill me!" Loke mounted the most ridiculous crying scene, "I-I need to go to the bathroom in the basement, I'm so dirty and beaten up! My God, what have I done to you to deserve this…!"
"Now, now, calm down," the man patted him and called three guards. "Can someone take him to the infirmary? I've to notify this right now, something tells me that candidate Dorham and all the guests in the hotel are in danger… come on, hurry up!"
"Yes, sir!" they instantly obeyed.
One of the guards helped Loke to get up and very carefully took him down the emergency stairs to reach the second-floor infirmary. Fortunately for the spy, there was no one in the place, so he didn't hesitate to knock out the guard and place him on one of the stretchers. Dressing a blue suit, he could see that a stray bullet had grazed his leg, but he ignored his wound, aware that another minute lost would jeopardize his mission.
Thus, Loke overcame another obstacle and went up to the seventh floor: by then, the ceremony was about to start and with ten minutes to spare, she infiltrated the attendees who were dancing a famous Berlint waltz: it was there when his eyes focused on Lucy, his balm of peace and the only woman who drove his heart crazy with that exotic black dress.
"May I have this dance, my lady?" he surprised her.
"Loke!" she let him take her to the dance floor and instantly, covered her mouth with much fear, "S-sorry, I shouldn't have said your name here…"
"You're always so attentive," he spoke into her ear as they danced. "Sorry for being late, things got complicated."
"What?" Lucy whispered, anguished, "Did you see them? They hurt you?"
"T-that's the least of it," he stifled a groan of pain, because of the twinge of pain in her leg, "We must be ready for anything."
"Heavens," she trembled a little, trapped in Loke's arms. "In two hours, our Helen will debut for the whole school."
"I know," he looked at her, grateful to her for reminding him the main reason for so much sacrifice. "I love you so much, Lucy."
"Me too, Loke", she got close enough and let him put some very peculiar glasses on her. "Let's just finish this."
"Immediately," he also put on the same glasses.
The clock struck five in the afternoon and with a soft cry from the violin, the waltz ended to give way to Heinrich Dorham's speech. The seconds ran as fast as Loke's eyes, who had already located the electrical connections that would be damaged and whispering her in the ear, he told Thorn Princess to go to the emergency alarm, next to the bathroom.
"Good afternoon to my party colleagues and all the guests," the candidate began, under a mask of fake courtesy, "I imagine that you must be bored by now to see my face in every channel and newspaper in Berlint," he made his audience laugh, "But believe me, my friends, that everything is for the greater good. Before you, Heinrich Dorham reaffirms his commitment to improve the life of our beloved Ostania..."
The applause was immediate and at the moment that the politician turned the other page of his speech, the chandeliers flickered and the entire reception room went dark, to the astonishment and bewilderment of the guests.
"Huh?" Dorham touched the microphone, receiving no echo, and spoke low to one of his followers, "What the hell is going on?"
"No idea, sir," he denied, so confused.
"Then call someone, because I want the equipment fixed right away!" he threatened between whispers, then looked at the audience. "Oh, we apologize for the inconvenience. Looks like we have a power outage…"
"And it will take too long to repair it," another man intervened from the back of the room, at the same time that fired into the air with a rifle, initiating a wave of panic among the people. "Get down on the ground, you bastards!"
Dorham and the guests surrendered to the order, covering themselves from the splinters that fell from the chandeliers; meanwhile, forty henchmen poured in through the right-side door and surrounded the entire perimeter; with a huge portable headlight, they illuminated the terrorist leader who took the politician's podium.
"As you can see, my men are also very loyal to their nation and that's why they sealed the doors to guarantee your safety," the leader joked, as his gang smeared the windows with black paint, accentuating the gloom, "So now you know, ladies and gentlemen: if someone tries to escape from your servant Gerald Fritz…"
Again, the guests screamed when they saw the man show them the remote control of a bomb. For his part, Loke glanced to the right and tried to think clearly, amid the clamor that confused him.
The alarm hasn't yet been activated. Did they catch Lucy? He moaned because of a new contortion in his stomach. No, impossible, Loke, you know her! She's just waiting for my signal, it's now or never!
"Hold the jerk," Fritz called for Dorham to be brought before him and strucked him across the cheek with the butt of his rifle. "Does anyone else want to join…?"
"Hey, don't move!" one of the assassins pointed with his gun at Loke, seeing how he was crawling on the dance floor.
"P-please help me!" he groaned, clutching his abdomen, "I need the pills for my ulcers! I swear I'll pay you whatever you want, haaa…!"
"Boss!" the gangster waited for his response.
"Do I have the face of a doctor or what?" he turned his back on him, "Make him shut up!"
"You heard, idiot! Sit in that chair and hang on there!" he pushed him with foot and when saw he was still motionless, forced him to rise, "I told you to move, son of…!"
"Meeercy!" he raised his hands, yelling.
Recognizing the gesture and the plea used by her former victims, Thorn Princess hit the emergency button with a single punch, setting off the alarm throughout the hotel. The terrorists looked everywhere and in the middle of the darkness, they heard the trip of a dagger destined for the head of the criminal on the dance floor; it was only a matter of seconds before Loke took the rifle and fired at a sensor he installed hours ago on the ceiling, blinding everyone with the rapid flicker of psychedelic lights.
"Ambush!" Fritz had to cover his eyes and took Dorham's arm gropingly to drag him to the main staircase of the hotel, guarded by ten men on the way, "We've to get out of here!"
"And if they are from the Secret Police?!" asked one mobster.
"I don't give a damn who they are, finish them off!"
"Help!" exclaimed the candidate, but his cry was lost among the madness of the hostages, the terrorists' bullets and the agility of two shadows that moved between the tables, thanks to the glasses that protected them from those lights.
Showcasing her quickness, Thorn Princess jumped over tables and slashed the necks of two kidnappers, while she kicked several plates at any terrorist who tried to stop her. The creaking of the glass mingled with the clean cut of her golden daggers and alongside the orchestrated chaos, she yelled for the guests to flee through the side door, now free of extremists.
On the other side of the room, Loke slipped through the chairs and got to hit most of his shots, taking down ten terrorists stationed on the internal balcony of the venue and three more coming out of the dais. He had to fight hand to hand with someone no less than once and despite not being as agile or strong as his wife, he applied his skills well to come out of the fight.
The shots were reduced in number and after one last burst of submachine guns, Loke and Lucy ended the life of the last hijacker together. Waiting for the silence to be complete, the spy deactivated the psychedelic lights with another shooting and they took off their special glasses, contemplating many corpses around them, barely illuminated by the portable headlight.
"Not bad, Thorn Princess," Loke praised her, almost breathlessly.
"The same to you, Loke," Lucy waved her dagger to get the blood off it. "What are we going to do? Fritz kidnapped the candidate."
"He won't be able to escape," he said, very sure, "Before I came, I fought three terrorists in an elevator and pretended to be an injured bellboy to call for backup. I don't know who will coming, but maybe they already cordoned off the hotel and…"
Loke couldn't finish his sentence and light burst into the room when all the windows broke simultaneously, due to the action of several agents of the State Security Service, whom entered hooked on ropes suspended from the outside of the eighth floor. Almost surrounded, the spy and the assassin chose to escape from the reception room: to avoid their fight with the policemen, Loke took a grenade from the terrorists and blew it up right at the side door, blocking their way. The echo of the explosion stunned them for a while, without stopping them from running towards the emergency stairs.
"Lucy, stop a while!" Loke exclaimed, several minutes later.
"I'm fine, we must continue!" she wanted to appear strong; however, fatigue played a trick on her, at the doors of the ninth floor.
"No, you're not!" he held her arms and leaned her against the wall, "Please, breathe a little…"
"No, Loke!" she rejected him "They took Dorham!"
"And ten armed men are waiting for us up there!" he made her to reconsider, "If you want to get to Helen's presentation in one piece, I beg you not to throw your life overboard!"
"Don't have to tell me how to do my job!" she got loose from him, very frustrated by the situation; and after they challenging each other with their eyes, love made them succumb in a desperate hug, "Forgive me… what comes now?"
"The hotel has twenty floors, the terrorists infiltrated the last one," he explained, still clinged to her. "I suspect they know of the arrival of the SSS, so will use Dorham to flee or will set off the bomb, as a last resort."
"That would be terrible," she separated, "I still have two daggers left."
"And I used up my last charge," he snorted, gun in hand.
"I figured it would happen," gently, Lucy pulled the bottom slit of her dress open and showed her two pistol magazines more pinned to her leg strap.
"Fuck!" gaping, Loke admired his wife's foresight as well as the enticing sight of her thigh.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" she regained his strength, "We have to kick ass them."
[…]
Fritz squeezed his watch when he saw that it was half past five in the afternoon, throwing it against the floor of the hotel roof. From his position, he contemplated the sunset and with great annoyance, he admitted that all his plans had failed; much more when he realized that his mind was torn between exploding the bomb or taking the candidate as a guarantee of life.
"T-take that thing off me!" he heard the complaints of Dorham, who was tied to a thin post; despite having his eyes plugged, he refused they have covered his mouth with tape, "Where the hell did they get that from?! It smells horrible!"
"Oh, I can't stand it anymore!" a henchman got frustrated and then approached the leader. "Fritz, ask someone else to take care of it! He has me up to my balls with his claims! If I could get rid him…"
"But you won't," she warned him, "The asshole serves us more alive."
"Who sent you? Suwell, Desmond, D'Gapon?" Dorham intervened again, mentioning the other candidates of the electoral campaign, "If I find out that those bastards hired you to eliminate me…"
"Hey, hey," Fritz knelt before him and grabbed him by the chin, "Do you think I would sell myself so easily to those dogs? Unlike you, I do appreciate my country very much: if it were up to me, I would never allow Ostania to lose her essence thanks to a simple foreign friendship."
"Hmp, I understand now:" Dorham chuckled, "My deal with Westalis."
"One that has not yet and will never be signed!" he released it abruptly, as he stood up again, "Why don't you do this world a favor and disappear? We could say the nation of the West betrayed you."
"Bullshit," he snapped, "They will come for me and will kill you."
"Yes, like your friends down there," he went out on the hotel balcony, seeing how several SSS patrols surrounded the place, "Without being president, you already have the support of the armed forces. Will you also bribe the electoral process, Dorham?"
"Enough! What the hell do you want from me, stupid killer?!"
"Your language is very coarse to be a future father of the country," between laughs, he called to one of the henchmen, "Give me the remote control of the bomb…"
"Wait, wait, we can negotiate!" he shook himself, quite scared to hear how he readied his rifle, "Let's fix this! You hate Westalis, right? If you want, I can make an alibi for you to get rid of someone you hate there, but please don't kill me! I'm getting married in two months...!"
"As if that matters to me," he pointed the gun at her.
A gust blew behind Fritz and before he knew it, a terrorist howled in pain as the hand holding the remote control of the bomb detached from his body. The other attackers became disturbed with blood dripping from his severed wrist and took for their weapons; although it was not enough to evade Thorn Princess' accurate stabs.
The terrorist leader saw all his henchmen dead and tried not to despair as he prepared to kill Dorham once and for all. This action distracted Lucy and in his eagerness to protect the candidate, she pounced on the pole while the mobster fired his rifle, almost at the same time that Loke killed Fritz with three shots to the back.
"Shit!" Loke came out of the column where he was hidden to help his wife, "Are you alright? Tell me something!"
"D-Dorham…" she stilfed a panting, "The idiot is alive."
"Who are you calling 'idiot', huh?" protested the politician who was still tied to the downed pole, "Who are you?"
"Be satisfied with knowing we saved your skin," the girl got up with the help of Loke, and there she noticed the wound on her right arm from Fritz's attack, "You should be thankful."
"With you? Ha!" Dorham spoke in a derogatory tone, "I can't even see you, remove the cloth from my eyes!"
"You were right, he's unbearable," the spy joked, while he putted his jacket on his wife, "Look, we don't have much time: the agents of the Secret Police will come to your rescue soon and when that happens, you'll announce your definitive withdrawal from the electoral campaign."
"What?!" he exclaimed, horrified, "I-i-it has to be a joke! Yes, you are insane! That will never happen!"
"Are you sure?" Lucy took the recorder that Loke secretly activated before the attack, "You hate Westalis, right? If you want, I can make an alibi for you to get rid of someone you hate there…" she cut off the part of the audio where Dorham proposed to attack the country of the West, "High treason to international alliances, right?"
"And life imprisonment," Loke took a very long rope from the suitcase of one of the terrorists, "Don't worry, we'll bring you good food to the prison."
"T-that…" Dorham stammered, "Don't even think that with your blackmail, you'll…!"
"Blackmail?" Lucy threatened him with her dagger in the neck, "We don't gain anything with this, but Ostania deserves that someone more honest occupy the presidency. So, if you value your miserable life, you'll give up your candidacy before this recording gets everywhere… and never rat us out, because I swear I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you!"
A sharp knock on a metal door ended the conversation and luckily for the couple, it had been blocked by the terrorists, which gave them time to prepare a quick escape.
"It's late, we've to go," said the spy.
"Ok," Lucy gave one last look to the arrogant man and turned around to catch up with Loke, who tied the rope to a ladder to descend down the left side of the hotel; heading to the tenth floor. "We have time?"
"I think so," Loke kept going down. "Did you open all the windows?"
"Yes," she winced. "Are we there yet?"
"It won't be long, wait… ngh, good!" staggering, he grabbed the ledge and both them got in the room of the Rommel Suite.
"I-I put the suitcase under the bed," Lucy sat on the bed, looking at the clock on the nightstand, "Six in the evening."
"That's right. We did it, sweetheart…" Loke took out the medicines they brought, soaked a cloth in alcohol and hugged her while cleaned the bullet wound, "Calm down, Lucy, calm down!"
"D-don't worry," she hissed due to the burning sensation, "It doesn't hurt so much anymore…"
"That's my girl," he complimented her on her courage. "Snif, snif… isn't that lavender?"
"Don't tell me you don't like the smell either," Lucy reminded Dorham.
"On the contrary, I'm not like your favorite candidate," he ironized, in allusion to the man they left on the roof, and while cut some bandages the size of the wound, he lowered his gaze, "I should have protected you better."
"Loke, you almost died in an elevator and I wasn't with you," she felt bad, "For such case, we both fail a little."
"And now we celebrate our victory in a luxury suite," he finished the bandage on her injured arm and hugged her tight for the waist. "I couldn't have done it without you, Lucy…"
"Me neither: I am very happy to be your wife," she turned her head to kiss him, but a mischief smile on his face stopped her, "What?"
"Nothing, it's just that the last thing you said to Dorham…" he tried to contain his laughter, "Didn't you take it from that movie we saw the other day?"
"We can also learn things from television," she winked at him.
Loke and Lucy laughed a lot at the occurrence, until they were finally able to kiss as they wanted to do so much since the morning… and the complicity made their bodies to act on their own, falling gently on the sheets. For the first time all day, their concern for time vanished and the couple gave free rein to their passionate kisses and caresses, focused on giving themselves pleasure to the fullest.
"Haaa, Loke," she groaned beneath his body as she felt her husband's firm erection against her womb, "Mmm, sweetheart!"
"Lucy, your wounds…" he gasped, worried.
"It doesn't matter, darling," she gave kisses on her husband's face and neck, while wrapped her legs around his waist, "I need you, I want you inside me, please…"
"G-God, Lucy!" her desire excited him much more and even he forgot his leg injury, as his hands quickly opened the zipper of his pants.
Generally slow in the foreplay, the adrenaline accumulated in the whole mission triggered their urgent need and ignoring they were still dressed, Loke penetrated to Lucy, between sweet moans. The spy wasn't careful with his onslaughts and very happy to listen her compliments, he pleased her with much more vigor and speed, bewitched by the fusion of lavender and the exquisite aroma of his wife.
"Oooh!" she buried her nails over his shirt, "Go on, Loke, go on, mmm… make it faster, Loke, please! Haaa, God!
"Y-Lucy… oh fuck, Lucy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming…" he tighted her hips and as he felt his wife's intense orgasm, Loke couldn't resist anymore and cummed inside her with a loud grunt, "Haaa, d-darling! Lucy, oooh, Lucy…!"
Their minds clouded by pleasure barely responded to the ticking of the clock that already marked six twenty; Very exhausted, they surrendered to the fatigue of their bodies and even with the effort that making love demanded, they were dazzled by their discovery: having sex was a good anesthetic.
"W-we should work together more often…" said Loke and laughing with Lucy again, they gave each other a one last kiss full of love, before calling Franky to take them to Fairytail Academy in his new car.
[…]
"Brilliant, magnificent! Elegant in every sense of the word!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson, after listening the last essay of his students.
"Teacher, I want to pee," Helen spouted, wearing her costume.
"I told you not to drink so much water, Leo," he coughed, embarrassed, and took her script, "Come on, go quick…"
"Wait, I'll come too!" Becky followed her.
"Now they camp in the toilet?" the old man was horrified.
To Blackbell's surprise, Helen ran through the crowd without waiting for her and got into the gardens, taking refuge in one of the bushes farthest from the dais. There, Becky witnessed the most unexpected scene: the loud crying of her best friend.
"Helen!" Becky comforted her, worried, "Godness, did you pee?"
"M-Mama and P-Papa…" she sobbed.
"Oh…" the other girl understood her excuse to running away and crying without being seen, "Don't be sad, Helen: you said yourself your parents will come, and that will be!"
"B-but the acting's already t-to begin!" her voice sounds scarier than normal, "Something bad happened to Papa and Mama!"
"Of course not, you have to think positive!" Becky knocked softly her forehead, "People will be fascinated with us, no one will forget tonight!"
"Without doubts!" a third voice surprised them and the girls saw Damian to exit behind a tree, accompanied with Ewen and Emile, "Two dwarfs playing as bride and maid is not something we see every day… by the way, that isn't a pompous costume for a servant, Blackbell?"
"Nobody asked your opinion!" the girl got mad.
"See, Becky? I told you," Helen giggled in tears, while received Desmond's handkerchief to dry her face, "Why are you so annoying, Sy-on Boy?"
"Don't get confused, Leo," interfered Emile, "We just wanted to tell you that the others kids of the play are already backstage."
"That's it," Ewen supported to his friend, "And we want to laugh well, if we see you there."
"How thoughtful, you guys," Becky looked at them, discomforted.
"Ok, enough fun," Damian calmed down them and spoke to Helen. "Don't let the absence of your parents affect you. Whether they arrive or not, you should focus on cheering the audience."
"But I w-wanted them to be here," she hiccuped.
"And I bet they will come at time," he took her hand, "Have faith."
Helen blinked, surprised by Damian's compassion, and the new smile that lit her face was enough to reassure her other companions. At that, the announcement of the master of ceremonies made them return to the dais… while a red car stopped in front of the main entrance of Fairytail Academy.
"Five minutes!" said Franky, while Loke and Lucy got out of the car, wearing the new fancy suits they obtained in the Rommel Suite.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" the spy insisted to him as never, "We have extra tickets."
"Nah, much richness overwhelms me. Besides, I have a date tonight," he smiled, very cheeky, "Ha, ha, ha, ha, have fun!"
"Loke, hurry!" Lucy took her husband's hand and they ran along the main path of the gigantic school, guided by the the distant voice of the teacher who introduced the actors in the play, "Tell me they haven't started!"
"Let's pray it doesn't! Helen would be very angry!" they turned for a street and in a little while, arrived at the school theater, where a host asked for their reservation tickets and allowed them to pass.
Once inside the venue, they concealed their agitation and went down the stairs that divided the seats into two blocks, locating two empty seats next to Melinda Desmond they occuped just as the public gave applauses.
"So, they haven't come yet!" Billy Watkins started the play, dressed as Diego, the protagonist's old suitor, "I have only seen my fiancee a few times and I can swear that praises to her doesn't do her justice: she's so cute, innocent and humble! What luck allows an older man like me to manage to woo her?"
"Providence only knows, my lord," spoke George Glooman, chosen as the burgher's servant, "An award for his excellence, perhaps…"
"Wait!" Bill pretended to hear something in the distance, "Do you hear that? I think it's them, finally, Francisca will be before me again!"
The spotlights on the stage illuminated three girls coming down a small staircase and everything stopped for the Leos: under the intense light, they saw Helen, disguised in an ankle length white dress, an aquamarine tulle headdress on her head and a fan that enhanced her beauty and innocence. Her joy didn't go unnoticed by the telepath, who achieved to recognize them from a distance and tried hard not to burst with emotion, using all that energy to continue the dramatization.
"We're already here, my lord Diego" Jessica Clark, the girl who played Francisca's mother, knelt before Bill and with a grimace typical of her role, asked Helen to imitate her, "You can imagine how anxious my daughter was about this meeting."
"Mrs. Irene," he curtsied, "Miss Francisca, her beauty and elegance does nothing but rejoicing my heart."
Why me? Helen sighs, "Oh, nice lord: I brought some things from the convent that I want to show you…" she opened a handkerchief and dropped a plaster figure, as part of the performance, "Oh, it slipped! Rita, pick up the pieces, please."
"Mmm… at your service, Miss Francisca," embarrassed, Becky crouched down to carry out the order of her mistress.
Thus, the play continued for the next half hour, amid the laughter of the attendees for the comic scenes and the occasional astonishment groan at the love dilemma between Francisca, Diego and the brand-new soldier Carlos. In the seats, Melinda comforted Lucy so that she wouldn't burst into tears and for his part, Loke asked for strength not to jump on the children who declared her love to Helen, even knowing everything was an acting.
"What does this mean?!" the mother's scream in the stage play made him shock. "Francisca, tell me what this letter is about!"
"Mother, it's not what you're thinking!" Helen's voice broke to convey pain and sadness.
"Yes, ma'am, it's," spoke Bill, as the burgher, "Your daughter Francisca loves another man: my nephew Carlos! If I say to love both, I can't be so cruel to deny them the happiness…" he joined Helen's hands with those of the child that played as the love interest of the protagonist.
"Uncle!" exclaimed Theodore Russel, the actor who played Carlos, "I considered you my enemy for long time and now I don't know what to say," he knelt down to Bill, "Bless you for this, my dear relative!"
"Then you forgive us, my lord Diego?" Helen imitated the student. "Will you really make this sacrifice for us?"
"Any decision be worth if it's for the true love," he smiled and so Helen hugged Theodore, as a sign that the play was over.
Parents, students and other guests applauded the efforts of the little actors, especially the Leos, whose eyes filled with tears and left their seats, looking for their daughter. Helen bowed next to her friends on the dais and after returning backstage, she ran to meet her parents, whom had already crouched down to receive her.
"Papaaa, Mamaa!" she cried when saw they were safe and sound after fulfilling their mission, which she found out through her telepathy. "I knew you'd come back for me, I knew it!
"How could we not, honey?" Lucy kissed and hugged her. "I love you so much, Helen, and to your father too!"
"Helen…" Loke didn't know what to say; very moved, he chose to cry silently and hug the two women that brought him his happiness, totally sure that his daughter would read the great love he felt in his mind and heart.
with a lot of adrenaline, comedy and, above all, love… because that's exactly what Loke and Lucy inspires in each one of their adventures!