Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
Loid did not find sleep, that night, and it was not only because of the heatwave that was choking Berlint since the past few days. He eventually turned the fan off, whose buzzing was starting to unnerve him, then turned once more; the headlights of a car passing in the street cast their pale light on the ceiling. Usually, the sounds of the city were lulling him into sleep: that night, he could hear the least siren in the distance, the slightest bark several blocks away.
“The mission will be compromised, if I lose her…”
He stood up all of a sudden, and took the photo framed on his bedside table: his wife, his daughter, and himself – not forgetting Bond. He sighed lengthily.
“Goodness, what have I done wrong?! He who claims understanding women is an utter liar as well as a boor!”
The master spy was caught off guard, and he was overthinking it. Yor was admittedly his wife only on paper, her participation to the mission was nonetheless determining and he could not afford losing her – furthermore, Anya and her had really grown close together, and he did not feel brave enough to announce to her that Yor was planning on leaving them and file for divorce. Because that was all it was about, no? Sighs, sideways glances, comments, the distance ever growing between them… “I’m tired, Loid…” The words sounded harsher each time in his head: as it was almost the thousandth time he was bringing up the tiny comment hammered by Yor as he had suggested walking Bond after dinner, her voice now sounded filled with hatred, and her face with disgust.
“Tired of what? Tired of whom? Of me? Having to care for housework on top of her job while she has no obligation towards us? It’s true that her life isn’t easy, here… It’s not the first time it poses a problem, but this time it’s serious! I may be shouldn’t have asked her for so much, that evening when I fainted before her…”
In the other room, Yor was sound asleep despite the heat: weariness accumulated over several days had quickly won over her. The week had been busy, as much for the civil servant than for the contract killer than for the housewife who had to juggle between urgent files, the eradication of a gang of drug dealers and her daughter’s end of year ceremony. To top it all, Loid had also been crushed with work and the little family had only spent little time together in the last few days. She even had to regretfully decline her husband’s proposal of walking the dog after eating dinner. However, it was with a smile on her lips that she had fallen asleep: it was the week-end, and she could finally rest and enjoy time with her loved ones. She intended on suggesting an outing in the countryside around Berlint, to enjoy summer landscapes as a family. It was a guilty pleasure, for she knew well that this family was one only because of the circumstances, and that the matrimonial agreement that bound her to Loid could end anytime due to her true identity. But the charismatic psychiatrist and his adorable daughter each day meant more and more to her eyes; furthermore, they had given back her life the meaning she lost when Yuri had flown the nest and had needed her no more, to such an extent that she could not imagine living alone anymore.
“The situation is critical, Bond!" Anya exclaimed in a whisper.
The girl was kneeling on her bed, a concerned look upon her face: nothing good was coming out of what she had heard from her parents’ thoughts. Her Great Pyrenees looked at her with worried eyes.
“Papa thinks mama wants to leave him, but mama wants to flirt with papa! Grown-ups are so difficult to understand!”
She crossed her arms and sighed, a thoughtful look on her face.
“Looks like it’s going to be my turn to take care of this…” she eventually declared, squinting with resolution.
The following day, Loid sported massive dark rings and yawned in front of his coffee mug. Yor was not up yet, which wasn’t like her: she was probably still brooding. He was looking depressed when Anya barged in the kitchen, tailed by Bond: seeing her father like that, the little girl looked shocked.
“Are you okay, papa?”
“Yes”, he lied. “I didn’t sleep well, because of the heat!”
“Don’t worry, papa. I’ve got this!”
“Have you thought about your reward, to congratulate you on finishing your schoolyear with good results?
“Yes.” The little girl was glad she hesitated, the previous day, when the question had been asked to her a first time. “I want to go on a vacation!”
“I imagine surely Becky will have filled your mind with her stories of luxury hotels and private beaches”, sighed Loid, eyebrow raised. “It’s expansive, you know? I may be paid well, I…”
“No. I want to go to the countryside! I want to see the landscapes!”
“My plan is perfect! Mama will love going back to the nature, and papa will realize she wants everything but leave him!”
Indeed, Anya had noted that each time her mother was telling her stories of her own childhood in the countryside, her thoughts were always filled with nostalgia and that she would love to return there: the idea thus seemed perfect to the girl.
“In the countryside?” Loid raised an eyebrow once more. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the beach instead?”
“Absolutely sure! Well… it’s true that I wanted to go to Gallia, but that may be too much…”
She pouted with feigned sadness, but it had no effect on her father whose mind had been set ablaze as soon as he remembered that Yor was native from eastern Nielsberg, a rural region of Ostania: maybe a vacation that would bring her childhood memories would be the miracle solution their marriage needed?
“Gallian countryside, you say? Yes, I think that can be done… It’s a very good idea!”
Anya gladly read her father’s thoughts: he did not just fell for it, he jumped into it!
“Nice, nice, nice! When do we leave?”
“At the earliest, Monday if necessary!”
“But I thought you weren’t on vacation before next week?”
“It doesn’t matter in the least: the director owes me a favor, I’ll leave a week earlier and that’s it.”
“Mama isn’t on vacation either…!”
“I can make arrangements, for that.”
Father and daughter bolted, surprised: it was Yor who spoke. She had made her entrance in the kitchen, after having eavesdropped for a few minutes in the corridor. Still in her pajamas, her hair was messy but Loid could not help but notice with pleasure that she was looking well-rested and fresh-faced. He smiled awkwardly, but she immediately looked away: this early in the morning, she lacked the courage to face his gaze before doing her hair. Loid lowered his gaze, depressed.
“No! They are not going to get back at it now!”
“You say you can make arrangements for that?” he resumed after summoning his courage.
“Yes, uh… let’s say that that the director owes me a favor, too.”
“Only with the time I lost cleaning my dress and my stilettos, the director owes me one, so with a full gang taken care of…!”
“So it’s settled”, Loid declared with a smile, not paying attention to the horrified look on his daughter’s face. “I’m making reservations, and let’s go on a vacation!”
“Isn’t it going to be a bit hard, at the last minute?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything planned. I’m going to call a couple contacts from the hospital, they’ll know how to inform me.”
“Hello? Is that you, Yor?”
Matthew McMahon was surprised to hear the voice of her subordinate over the phone at half past eleven on a Saturday morning. Rare were the times she called, and even rarer the times she called for what she was about to ask him.
“You forgot something at the office, I assume? No? You want to go on a vacation you say?! In Gallia, furthermore? I believe your vacations are already scheduled for next mon… Ah. I see. Indeed. It’s true that you’ve had a rough week, with these… urgent files. Your absence will be commented, at the office, you know? I know you don’t care about gossips, but now that you’re getting along better with your colleagues, it would be a pity to be back to square one. Well, given how you sound, I assume it really matters to you. Listen, go on your vacation, I’ll see with human resources. Enjoy your little family. In our line of work, you never know when… it all ends. Yes. You’re welcome. Yes, I’ll inform the Shopkeeper. You’re welcome. Come on now. Goodbye, Yor. Have a good vacation.”
Matthew McMahon put the phone down on the round table near which his deck chair was installed, and unfolded his newspapers; he turned the radio back on and took a good whiff of the bucan cigar that had been smoking in the ashtray since the phone rang. Weather was great, and he enjoyed this beautiful summer morning by relaxing in his garden. Nevertheless, he was still a busy man even on his days off, and he was never far away from his phone; yet, the call he had just received was without a doubt one of those he expected the least.
“She found happiness at last, it seems: this marriage has done her a world of good. I hope she’ll enjoy her vacation, for who knows what the future holds?”
Matthew McMahon smiled lightly and turned the page.