After a productive fifteen minutes of showering off the day’s activity from her body under scorching hot water, thirty minutes dedicated to her make-up, another ten minutes to her hair and an additional ten minutes to dressing up for their operation, she looked back at the reflection in her vanity mirror to see a familiar woman looking back at her. She wore a pitch-black, short slip-on with thread straps and a long, leather, sweeping trench coat. Although it was Fall season, the desperate wind was still on a rampage to shred any bare arms and legs it would find on sight, provoking her to pair the minidress with thigh-high black boots that gripped three-quarters of her leg. Turning around to earn full view of her outfit, she noticed that though she was almost fully covered, the satin dress was still a good distance away from the beginning of her boots, accentuating her curves as she had planned it to.
Cyan hated the cold. And she knew she was going to feel it seeing as that she deliberately wore a short dress having checked the weather on her cell phone. But she believed that the end results of wearing a piping-hot dress were more important. If one planned to look good then personal feelings about the weather didn’t matter.
She clipped on her gold hoop earrings and put on her gold necklace that carried the ‘C’ pendant, around her neck. Half her braids were tied up in a high ponytail whilst the rest of them lounged leisurely on her back. Their crimson colour complimented the blood red lipstick she applied that Cyan couldn’t have been happier with the shade of extensions she had chosen. The tiny hairs at the start of her forehead were brushed in a perfect swoosh design and the particles of her sweet, amber fragrance dispersed with every movement she made. Cyan beamed at herself. She had almost forgotten how stunning she could be.
Her cell phone made a ping sound and she went over to where it was on the bed. She dragged the notification’s bar to see that a text message from Janine had popped up.
‘’Bad news; I lost my key again. Good news; I threw out the pineapple.’’
Cyan chuckled at that.
She texted back, ‘’Bad news; Greg is going to hate you. Good news; you can a take break from going to the bathroom every few minutes.’’
She checked the time at the top, right corner of the screen. It was 20:30hrs in Leicester and 19:30hrs in Prague owing to the one-hour difference. The chances were that Janine was off work now, recuperating with a good television show and an unhealthy snack. Alternatively, Cyan was dressed in the skimpiest outfit to blend in a crowd of unruly partygoers in order to drain information out of a drug dealer.
How different their nights had become.
Still zoned in on the time, Cyan remembered that they were all supposed to be on the road by 21:00hrs to be at the club at 22:00hrs, so she decided to pack some of her lady essentials in her purse, insert her badge in the inside pocket of her coat, apply order in her room and closed all the windows. She glimmered at herself in the mirror one last time and exited the room.
Descending the stairs two at a time in hopes that she was not late, Cyan skimmed through the stairs in her heavy boots a few minutes faster than she would’ve if she was taking one step. She entered the living room where she was greeted by the hustle and bustle of young adult Agents in casual-fashionable wear, moving with determination and purpose in their strides. Bullet-proof vests were loaded into gear bags, firearms were undergoing screening and selection, devices such as laptops and notebooks were packed into their casings and straight into bags while careless chatter acted as the background music, adding to the aesthetic to the preparations. She noticed that everyone was dressed differently than she’d seen earlier, which was expected since they were all going out, but the Agents of Division 12 were no longer in the room. If Cyan didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that this was a group of twentysomethings readying to lose themselves in the night of drinks and music. She acknowledged that the boys looked pretty fantastic, being that they didn’t spend an immeasurable amount of time working on their appearance unlike the girls whom she couldn’t see anywhere in the room. The guys had infused a twist to their hoodie and pants outfits and added a flare to them. Like Evan. He wore a black turtleneck that hugged his lean body with a pair of beige cargo pants and white sneakers to pair. Tiny silver hoops dangled from his ears, going hand in hand with the silver chain around his neck. He was laughing with Jordan near the big screen who wore a grey hoodie, a white flannel and black jeans. She also noticed Preston who was sitting on the edge of the couch, inserting comms into his ears. He was in a Courage the Cowardly Dog t-shirt, black jeans and a denim jacket. She made a mental note to find out where Preston bought the purple dog so that she could purchase one for herself. Behind Preston’s couch stood Nathan, packing black SSU vests with the eagle insignia on them and the number of their Division in a gear bag. He wore a pair of cream pants, a plain, white round neck t-shirt and a cream short-sleeved button down. He married that together with his white sneakers to compliment his snow outfit. His hair was parted sideways and just like Evan, he wore a silver chain around his neck. As if some unknown entity told him to look up from what he was doing, Nathan’s head jerked in her direction and he spotted her. Cyan hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath when she tried to inhale a quick one to calm all the raving butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to approach him and tell him that he looked...good.
But she decided against it. She didn’t know where they were or what they were thus not wanting to make decisions or take actions that would assume otherwise. He stopped packing the vests and unmindfully threw the bag on the floor to his feet. If Cyan was unsure about how she looked that night, she would’ve easily found confirmation in Nathan’s blazing eyes that widened in amazement when they stopped on her. He explored her slowly, like a poacher that had set eyes on an extinct species for the very first time. Cyan was not a fan of eye contact. It made her self-conscious. But the feeling of holding Nathan’s gaze was addictive. It made her feel marked and momentous, and for what seemed like an interminable moment, Cyan couldn’t see anyone else. Because Nathan’s stare grew much like a small fire in the woods, Cyan quickly pried her eyes off of him. It had something to do with her face increasing in temperature. Not caring what it was that her eyes landed on next, they latched onto a pair of Nathan’s white shoes. Then another pair of white shoes belonging to Preston and eventually she managed a half-circle turn to clock if Evan and Jordan wore white shoes as well. They did. Cyan giggled at the image of the boys discussing their footwear like excited high school girls because they all wore a similar pair.
All of them, except one.
Cyan’s boot heel hit the wooden floor to the speed of her step as she walked over to the television area where Evan and Jordan were standing, near the counter that held firearms with their respective equipment adjacent to them.
‘’I didn’t want to say anything but I think a university professor snuck into your house.’’ Cyan commented sarcastically as she approached the boys.
‘’What do you mean?’’ Evan asked confusedly.
‘’I think she is talking about the head of academia over there.’’ Jordan clarified.
Evans's eyes travelled the direction Jordan’s finger had led them to. They found William perched on one of the bar chairs in the kitchen polishing his brown derby shoes as he talked to them. The sight of William slowly losing his mind before Cyan’s eyes was not nearly as disturbing as compared to what he was wearing.
‘’He knows where we are going, right?’’ Evan asked curiously.
‘’It depends. Does the club have a senior citizen’s section? Because he’d definitely blend in with the other polo shirts and khakis.’’ Cyan replied.
‘’I bet he has never been out to a bar before.’’ Jordan gambled.
‘’I bet he has. But all the women he asked to dance obviously rejected him, pushing him to declare revenge on all the good-for-nothing girls by wearing the worst outfit humanely possible in efforts to punish them and anyone else who has the misfortune of looking at him.’’ Cyan responded in one breath.
Evan laughed. ‘’That’s very possible.’’
‘’Now that I think about it, that’s likely the explanation.’’ Jordan joined in on the laughter. ‘’Looking good, by the way.’’
‘’Thanks.’’ Cyan smiled. ‘’So do you. Both of you.’’
She refocused her attention to the Glocks that were spread out on the counter. She picked the last firearm, sitting at the edge of the table. It was a Glock 17. It was her signature firearm for all the years she was at the SSU and she didn’t mind reintroducing herself to it again. She made sure no one was in her peripheral vision and drew the weapon at the glass wall as if it was her target. Her right hand gripped the firearm, supported by her left hand that clutched her right wrist, with her index finger on the trigger. It felt familiar, easy to operate. Comfortable too.
She collected the Glock with its magazine tube, the respective bullets that came with it and inserted them into the inside of her trench coat pocket.
‘’Damn.’’ Jordan swore.
Cyan looked up from what she was doing. ‘’What?’’
‘’William just added a knitted scarf to his ensemble.’’ Jordan announced. ‘’He can’t go out looking like that. He will give us away.’’
Evan and Cyan glanced at each other for brief moment.
‘’Have fun.’’ they both said simultaneously as they briskly walked away from Jordan.
After successfully convincing William to change his country club outfit to something more appropriate for the occasion, Nathan and Evan took it as indication that everyone was ready and brought the cars they would be travelling in to the front. There was a minor miscalculation with that notion when Harper ran back into the house, twice, to change her lipstick back to lip gloss and her lip gloss back to lip stick. Her reasoning was that she didn’t know whether to look naturally glamorous with the lip gloss and give her outfit all the attention or to look extravagantly glamorous with the lipstick and allow her face to do all the talking. Obviously, the boys did not understand a word she said so they just groaned and waited for her until she made up her mind. When Harper was sure that her outfit and the lip stick could co-exist in the same world, the boys jumped in with Nathan while the girls hopped into the second vehicle driven by Evan.
Before they began to move, Evan pulled his phone out of his front pocket and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth system. He tapped on it for a few seconds and the song ‘C’est La Vie’ by Claudia Valentina blared from the sound speakers. Cyan quizzically gaped at Evan for the reason that Pop was the last genre he expected him to play. As far as she knew, the guys were into hardcore, speaker-breaking music. Cyan quickly closed her wide mouth and reprimanded herself for stereotyping him. He began to sing along to the song, Aria and Harper following his lead.
Cyan thought back to when they were jumping into the vehicles. It made sense why no one racked their head over which car they wanted to travel in. It was as if it was obvious that Evan drove with the girls and Nathan with the rest of the gang. Cyan joined in the sing along to the familiar song and allowed the catchy beat and the singer’s hypnotic voice to loosen her up. They were going to a party after all.
*****
Cyan didn’t realize that they had arrived at the night spot an hour later because Evan’s amazing playlist distracted her from the distance. Subsequent to descending from their vehicles and suffering the icy chill outside, the Division found themselves in a dark establishment illuminated by the bright, primary colours of strobe lights. Nathan dispatched them to different areas of Quarter 25 to cover all its angles; Jordan, Harper, William in the crowd, Cyan by the bar, Aria in the car in order to hack the security cameras while the rest of them assumed the upstairs area of the nightspot. Not wanting to spend another minute on the dance floor, Cyan followed orders and shoved her way through to the bar. Apart from the many ‘’excuse mes’’ and the ‘’I’m sorrys’’ she dropped on her way there when her body collided with other fellow bodies, she didn’t have much difficulty navigating her way to the bar, given half the light that brightened the club emanated from its counter. It shed light on a fair-skinned bartender running from either end of the counter to make sure the numerous customers relaxing there were kept happy.
It was overcrowded. If it wasn’t a drink being ordered, it was the ladies flirting with the busy barman or the guys trying to make conversation with the ladies who were interested in the barman.
Cyan internally grumbled and wondered if she would be able to procure a seat that would give her a good view of the club, preferably where no one would bother her with futile conversation.
Or perhaps just a seat. She couldn’t afford to aim too high.
She scanned the area for an available stool and almost jumped in the air with relief when she eyed an empty seat on the far, right side of the counter. She briskly walked towards it, almost running speed, to claim it before anyone could sit on it. It wasn’t the best seat in the house but it would have to do.
The plan was to keep an eye out for Pedro. Once found, anyone who had eyes on him first would lure him outside and force him to talk. Simple. Easy; if Quarter 25 wasn’t perfectly packed with hundreds of belligerent ravers who were louder than the blaring music. The task was easier said than done. But they knew that travelling to the city. Cyan figured if she was going to sit at the bar, it would be best if she acted believable and ordered a drink like a normal club-goer. She signaled for the bartender and asked for a Pi?a Colada; sweet and milky. She ordered a non-alcoholic, since she was on duty, but hoped she wouldn’t be pushed to switch to the alternative depending on how the night went.
''Operation find Gallo's criminal behind in motion.'' Jordan said through the comms that Cyan had shoved in her ears.
''Everyone in place?'' Nathan asked.
''Copy.'' all the members of the team answered.
''Nathan, it's too hot in this crowd.'' William complained.
''Don’t worry about him, Nathe.'' Jordan assured. ''We are good down here.''
There were probably one in a million chances that Cyan and William would ever agree on anything and this was one of those slim but likely chances. Unlike the relenting weather outside, the club was blistering hot. This was aided by the fact that the club was full past its capacity, sweaty bodies generating heat by dancing to the music mixed in by the disc jockey. She couldn’t see much of the place, except the bar area and what the strobe lights allowed her to see. Occasionally, a blue light would land on the DJ booth to her right, accommodating a fedora-wearing man who was switching it up with the beats, or a yellow light on the bouncer that was stationed in-house. But everywhere she looked, she saw men and women holding an alcoholic beverage, toasting and cheering to the ceiling every time a popular song was played. 'Animals' by Martin Garrix was included in the playlist and Cyan's ears almost melted off because of all the happy screams on the dance floor.
She readjusted her attention to her creamy drink and allowed the cool sensation to perform tricks down her throat. She removed her coat, hung it around her stool and authorized the cool air to graze her bare arms and legs. The freshness of the air was too compelling so she untied her braids, letting them fall lazily on her back. She felt much better. Cooler.
''Oh. Cyan, don’t look. But there is a six o'clock staring at you.'' Harper gasped. ''How I wish it was me in your seat.''
''What?'' Cyan asked.
''I want Mr. tall, dark and handsome to look at me the way he is digging holes into you.''
''Harper-''
''Shh, shh! He is walking towards you!''
Cyan didn’t want to be approached. By anyone. She just wanted to scout Pedro without any interruptions. Cyan then remembered that she was in a club, the hub of interactions and pointless conversations. She couldn’t avoid it even if she wanted to and wished straight away for the night to be over.
A large thud on the empty seat to her right pulled her out of her thoughts. A muscular man had confidently thrown himself on the free seat next to hers and moved it subtly towards hers. He tried to be subtle. He was a buff man on a stool smaller than him that Cyan was surprised at the tiny stool for not taking him down with it. He possessed rich, syrup skin, free of any facial hair and head void of any, not even a single strand. His full lips were moisturized thoroughly, straight teeth protruding underneath them, reminding Cyan of the heartbreakers that your parents and friends warned you about. His wide eyes travelled Cyan's body with his tongue out, panting like a ravenous animal.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Cyan cocked her head to the side and whispered into her comms, ''I don’t want to talk to him.''
''Oh, come on, Cy-Cy.'' Jordan joked. ''Give him a chance. I'm sure he is the guy your mother would love to meet.''
''Ha-Ha-Ha. Jordan.'' Harper mocked. ''Cyan, don’t listen to him. This guy is a fire hazard. Talk to him.''
''Fire hazard?'' Preston asked.
''It just means he's really cute.'' Harper clarified. ''He's cute, isn't he?''
''Uhm, I don’t know how I would know that.'' Preston replied unsurely.
''I don’t see it.'' William answered honestly.
''Is it possible for everyone to concentrate on the task at hand?'' Nathan asked. ''We are not here for a match-making enterprise.''
''Right. Sorry.'' Cyan apologized, as did as her other teammates.
''Charles!'' the man next to Cyan bellowed, causing her to slightly spring out of her stool.
The pale man from the other side of the counter dropped all he was doing and ran to their side.
''Whiskey.'' the man ordered. ''Orange juice for the lady.''
Cyan didn’t want to look at the man next to her but her confrontational side decided to glance at him anyway. She was met by his persistent stare that Cyan asked herself where all his confidence emanated from.
''Orange juice?'' Cyan asked him.
''Is there a problem?'' the man whispered seductively.
''Cyan, don’t.'' Nathan cautioned.
Cyan ignored him and replied to the man next to her, ''I think there is.''
''It would make me the happiest man in the world if you enlightened me.'' he smirked.
Cyan laughed at the mistake this man had made. He mistook her calling him out for flirting with him, only that she tried to understand what it was about her that made him think that she couldn’t take on a drink that was implicitly, supposedly for men exclusively.
''You don’t think I can handle a whiskey?'' Cyan asked.
''Perhaps citrus is quite weak for a woman of your stature, I admit.'' the man chatted up. He analysed her again from her forehead to the tip of her heel. ''But you'd have to show me if you can handle a big boy's drink.''
''I have to prove to you that I can drink alcohol? What, women can't do anything these days without the approval of men?''
''That’s just how the world works.'' the man shrugged.
''Cy, I know that you are willing to go toe to toe with this man about the obvious injustices we are plagued with but remember that you're on duty. Don’t forget why we are here.'' Nathan warned.
Nathan was right. She would've gone toe to toe with the man sitting beside her. But she had to thicken her skin so as to not respond to everything he said. She had a job to do. |
''Shayne.'' the man introduced himself. He stuck out his hand towards Cyan in hopes to receive a handshake. Cyan gave him half a smile to acknowledge that she heard him.
''What's yours?'' he asked.
''Agnes.'' Cyan replied automatically.
''That’s a beautiful name.'' Shayne complimented. ''What does it mean?''
Cyan shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps her indifference would encourage him to choose different woman to bother.
It didn’t.
''Where do you come from?''
She would've been honest with him that she came from a small city called Mbabane in the country of Swaziland, south of Africa, but she didn’t think he deserved to know anything about her so she replied, ''Many places.''
''That's...cool.''
And that was the moment silence invaded their conversation. As far as Cyan was concerned, she was more than happy to let it because she had made it clear from the beginning that she didn’t want to talk to him. Although, some part of her was glad that she did converse with him because if she hadn't, she wouldn’t have noticed that there was something off about him. As appealing as he thought he was, there was another layer to him that wasn’t as captivating as he presented it to be. She couldn’t quite understand it but the more he talked, the more she noticed a peculiar air around him.
''So, listen. I think you're hot and I don’t want to waste time talking.'' Shayne said. ''I have a private room upstairs that we can both have fun in. Preferably without our clothes on.''
''Can I remove my coms?'' William asked dryly.
It took Shayne shorter than Cyan expected to reveal his true motives behind the small talk. Revolted but not surprised, Cyan ignored Shayne's advance and allowed the screams of the crowd over the song 'Leg Over' by a Ghanaian artist, Mr Eazi, mixed in by the DJ, reply to Shayne instead. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Shayne's corrupt eyes measured her exposed legs and wished she could dig a hole somewhere and hide from his blatant and shameless looks. Never had she been disgusted by another man's gaze like she was by Shayne's. She wasn’t used to it. It almost persuaded her to grab her stuff and stake Pedro elsewhere.
She was about to dramatically gather all her belongings and look for another area to monitor the club when the VIP band wrapped around Shayne's wrist caught her eyes and she set the thought to leave aside and came to terms with what she had to do.
Cyan sat up straight, rendering her dress shorter, swallowed the vomit that was rising up and batted her eyelashes at Shayne.
''Your room, is it big?'' Cyan asked suggestively.
''Of course.'' Shayne answered excitedly, understanding that his target was finally responding to his pursuits.
''Then why don’t you take me there after we've had a few drinks? Not at this tacky bar.''
''I'll take you wherever you want.'' Shayne promised.
''VIP?'' Cyan confirmed softly.
''Wherever.'' Shayne smirked.
''Ew. Perv.'' Harper expressed.
''Only if my friend is invited too.'' Cyan demanded.
''Yeah, whatever.'' Shayne agreed as he gulped the rest of his drink and sloppily pecked Cyan on the cheek.
''I'll meet you by the stairs.'' he whispered in her ear.
Cyan pulled off a gesture that resembled a smile until Shayne disappeared into the crowd. When she was sure that he was out of sight, she exhaled deeply, more out of disgust than relief, and silently thanked her friends for encouraging her to join the drama club when they were still in high school.
''VIP, then what?'' Nathan asked.
''Shayne is our ticket to get eyes on Pedro.'' Cyan responded. ''I think the VIP section is likely where he'll be.''
''But we are upstairs already.'' Evan contested.
Cyan heard the live click-clack of high heel shoes and felt taps on both her shoulders. She turned around to face a Harper who was breathing heavily. She must've lost her breath trying to push through the bodies in the crowd. Cyan also wondered if Harper was psychic because when she told Shayne she would be bringing a friend, Harper was exactly the person she was referring to.
''You're not upstairs enough, Ev. Only a pair of heels and a cute outfit will take you where we are going.'' Harper explained. ''Cy and I will go in there and talk to Pedro.''
''Fifteen minutes.'' Nathan instructed.
''We'll be back in fourteen.'' Cyan assured.
With that, the two girls met Shayne by the stairs near the DJ booth waiting for them. He led the way up the thick flight and took them to an area that was quieter too, melodies that resembled jazz but not as elegant to match the atmosphere of the nightspot. There were velvet couches all around them with pear-shaped tables holding metal buckets filled with ice. The lights were quieter too, exhibiting non-blinding colours. It occurred to Cyan that they were in more of a lounge reserved for important persons only. A handful of men slouched on these velvet couches, surrounded by dancing women in pieces of cloth that covered only the important areas. Cyan had less than appropriate remarks for them but thought wisely and swallowed them down.
''So, ladies. What time are you leaving?'' Shayne asked.
Harper chuckled. ''Oh, we don’t know. Maybe ten minutes before midnight.''
''Oddly exact.'' Shayne laughed.
Cyan didn’t remember any of them specifically discussing their time of departure at any point before, during or even after they made their trip to the city. It was pretty obvious that they were going to leave after they completed what they had come to do, which led Cyan to believe that Harper was trying to communicate with her without alerting Shayne.
‘’Ten minutes before midnight'' Harper had said. That meant twelve o'clock. Cyan subtly turned north-west from where they were currently standing and understood what Harper was referring to.
In that direction, an oval booth leaned against the wall, circling a long velvet couch. On it was a man with too much oil in his hair, slumped nonchalantly across the purple sofa as if his only worry was ruining his shiny suit with creases. Cyan couldn’t see much of him because he was surrounded by a thick cloud of smoke that emanated from his Jamaican cigar. There was too much smoke for Cyan's short-sighted vision but they were heading in that direction anyway that she didn’t wreck her head over what Harper was trying to say to her.
As they walked closer to the booth, the olive-toned man whipped his head at the sound of Harper's heels and abruptly sat up. Cyan was taken off guard by this action but she guessed he was mesmerized by her. Cyan couldn’t blame him. Harper was dressed to kill. She wore a fitted, strapless top made of black leather and coupled that with black, leather pants and glassy heels. Her straight, strawberry blonde hair was a stark contrast to her dark outfit, intensifying the fascination of whomever was lucky enough to look at her. Not to mention the blinding jewellery around her neck, her wrist and her ankle that added lavishness to her outfit.
The man eyed Shayne with pride and said, ''I see you have brought some friends.''
He stood up from his divan like an impressed African prince and stretched out his hand towards Harper in attempt to introduce himself. Harper placed her slender hand in his palm and he kissed it.
''My name is Venustiano Vicente.'' the man succulently introduced. ''But you can call me Pedro.''
Cyan couldn’t help but deride inwardly at him. He was completely enthralled by Harper that his memory failed to remind him that she had arrested him for drug possession not long ago.
''Would you ladies like to join me for some 2001 Guiseppe Quintarelli in my office?'' Pedro asked.
''What's the occasion?'' Harper asked sceptically.
''I've laid my unworthy eyes on two beautiful women.'' he smirked.
''But I-I thought we were all hanging out here.'' Shayne stammered.
Pedro eyed him as if he was the last insect on a spotless floor he had to crush before he went on his way.
''Not now.'' Pedro dismissed. ''Go and check if the barman is mixing the drinks correctly.''
Cyan guessed that Shayne wasn’t very happy with what he was instructed to do because he rolled his eyes and stormed away the same way they came. She was silently grateful that Shayne was sent to babysit the bartender because she didn’t think she could endure another minute of standing anywhere near him. Pedro was already leading them into a dark, narrow hallway that he didn’t witness Shayne's little fit.
They didn’t walk for very long until they reached the end of the hallway and turned to a small room on their right. Pedro ushered them in, like the perfect gentlemen he was pretending to be, and walked in after them.
With no delay, Cyan felt different. Before they left the lounge, she was expectant. But standing in Pedro's office, she felt very edgy. She blamed her sixth sense for always being aware. Her apprehension was assisted by the lack of noise in the upper part of the building they were in. It was way too quiet up here. She couldn’t hear any club music or a collective of screams from hundreds of drunk socialites or even Wiliam's obnoxious commentary in her ear about why clubs only existed for the intellectually deficient.
Wait.
Exactly.
She couldn’t hear William through her coms anymore. She also couldn’t hear Nathan and Evan theorizing about Lucas' unique abduction. Even Jordan's heavy breathing was gone. Cyan whipped her head towards Harper to see if she was experiencing the same silence she was. Based off of the same confused look Harper wore on her face, Cyan realized that it was not just happening to her.
Harper tapped her ears subtly and mouthed, ''Comms?''
Cyan had an idea of what was happening but the thought was only solidified when she heard a loud click behind her. She turned around to see that Pedro had locked the door. Why would he do that if they were planning on enjoying themselves with glasses of wine?
Cyan and Harper had walked into a trap.
As if a switch had been turned on in Cyan's mind, her body weight shifted in the direction of the door, she retrieved her Glock from her coat pocket at lightning speed and aimed it swiftly at Pedro. She knew she couldn’t fire at the smug bastard because he was unarmed but she hoped that facing the inside of a dangerous barrel held by a very dangerous Agent would urge Pedro to explain what he planned on doing. In the corner of her eye, she saw that Harper was in the exact same position as she was.
Pedro raised his hands in a defensive manner though his facial expression was evened to the point of no expression. Him raising his hands in that manner was more of an involuntary action than a scared reaction.
''There's no need for all that.'' he assured calmly.
''What are you trying to achieve by locking us in here and tampering with our a pieces?'' Harper grilled.
Pedro howled in laughter. ''Did you really think you could come up here, try to seduce me and think I wouldn’t recognize you, Agent Blair?''
''What do you want?'' Cyan asked.
''To chat.'' Pedro answered as he dropped his arms to his sides.
''And why would we want to waste our breath on you?' ’Harper snapped.
Pedro smiled a small smile. ''Because I know why you're here. And I can help you with the information you need.''
''Can you believe him?'' Harper asked Cyan incredulously.
She hated that she did but something in Pedro's physical behaviour told Cyan that there was some truth to what he was saying. He wasn’t trying too hard to convince them that he wanted to offer assistance to them, given his long RAP sheet, but instead maintained steady eye contact with them without faltering.
Cyan slowly lowered her firearm.
''Harp, lower it.''
''He is only going to say filth. We can't listen to a thing he says!'' Harper exclaimed.
''I know you're aware of my dealings with Geoffrey. But I want what you want.'' Pedro said. ''I want to know who killed him.''
Cyan focused on Harper. ''I don’t trust him either, Harp. We'd be fools to. But right now, we need him talking more than we need him quiet.'' she reasoned. ''We need to know what he knows.''
After what felt like a long moment, Harper finally lowered her weapon.
''He'll say what he needs to say once Nathan and Evan are in here.'' she said.
''By all means.'' Pedro smirked.
He unlocked the door and opened it for Harper to exit. Harper measured him from head to toe with distaste before stalking out of the room. Something in Cyan told her that they would regret giving a drug-dealing menace a chance to help them with their investigation. But they had little say in the matter.
Pedro seemed to be enjoying the little game he had them playing that he made himself comfortable behind his oak desk. With all the gun-aiming and trust issues brewing, Cyan hadn't had the chance to survey his office. Ancient wallpaper, ancient rug, and ancient picture frames; his office looked as if a medieval knight had thrown up the Renaissance Era in it with 15th Century duplicate paintings of Mona Lisa and Venus garnishing his office. She wondered why Pedro found paintings of naked women of the Renaissance fascinating enough to incorporate in almost every inch of his workspace. It was disturbing. She subtly glimpsed at him to gain some answers on this. Maybe his body language would reveal something to her.
Watching him, Pedro gave the impression that he was an open book with his charisma and allure but his personality was the opposite. He was reserved. A beautiful woman was standing right in front of him in his office and not once did he engage in any small talk nor chat himself up in any way.
She could've tried to decipher more but then their eyes met. He was probably trying to analyse her just as she was doing to him. She quickly looked away and cursed herself for not leaving with Harper. She knew she had to stay and keep an eye on Pedro because he was as slippery as he was charming but it didn’t make it any easier being in the same room as him.
He smiled at Cyan which seemed to be what he was all about; sly smiles and mind games. He opened his mouth to say something but thought against it and shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it.
Instead, he placed his short legs on his table, relaxed into his chair and grinned,
''Wine?''
