Chapter Text
Ostania always prided itself on its love of art, culture and elegance. With incomparable centuries of greatness in the face of the adversities in a changing and hostile world, the accomplishments that were made through diverse eminences, made the country stand up tall with pride among other nations. Philosophers, artists, athletes and inventors and renowned scholars, were just a small fraction of what this resilient place gave to Yuropa and the world.
However, over the years, this tale would see its protagonists become stained with blood, violence and regret. Instead of sonatas in the Prince Willy I auditorium, echoes of the memories of the cries in the daze of bombs could be heard, and the confusion of people seeking shelter; the glory of the ballet company transforming into motions of grief on the battlefield. Now, it was all shame and the smell of gunpowder. A stain on the honor of what was once the nation’s greatness.
Today, one could only hope that times would change.
The Eastern Shining Star Quest
Brayzen Commercial Industries. Berlint, Ostania.
May, 1967
Inside the conference room of well renowned Brazyen Commercial Industries, a meeting was held under the utmost request for secrecy. Rumors of its nature varied, but contention had already seeped in chatter. Guests whispered with one another while some others just staggeringly stared at the latest grist for the gossip mill.
A small sigh accompanied the tapping of a glass and knife, held by a deceptively masculine hand. Hesitantly, the owner began to clank on it, tapping loud enough to call for the attention of an entirely male audience. Prime Minister Windsor cleared his throat, and looked ahead at a room made up of members of Ostania’s Parliament and some members of the private initiative.
Some of Windsor’s biggest detractors were also there.
Next to him, Anakin Heywood— that infamous Foreign Minister who was once rumored to have ties to the West— was already snoozing with his hand tightly placed above his hair unconsciously, almost as if he were afraid it would fly off, with his body slightly falling forward. Beside Heywood was Sergei Ostosky— the main executive for the Ostanian Economics Committee— holding his elbows over his crossed arms, eyeing between Minister Windsor and his assistant, and then back to his colleague, the Minister of Finance and the Vice Minister of the Ministry Culture, who was taking some rattly notes due to anxiety. Adjacent to him, the CEO of Ostania’s Central Bank argued with some other stakeholders that were summoned. Other outstanding names were also there, like the one and only Burt Brayzen, of course, CEO and owner of Brayzen Commercial Industries— who had kindly offered his company to be the setting of this reunion; but figures like Byron Blackbell, Denis Glooman and Donovan Desmond were nowhere to be seen, chosen to send their representatives instead.
With another weary exhale, Windsor called for his secretary, as he advanced to the head of the table.
“Good Evening, Gentlemen. I know many of you are wondering about the reason you've been summoned to this reunion.” At this, few men glanced between each other. “Hearsay has been wildly entertaining but, it’s time we unveil why we have asked you to join us on such short notice”.
Windsor's secretary turned off the lights and the front row peeled their eyes wide at the white beam of light shining across the office. On the wall, a newspaper headline took over the space.
The room fell silent.
‘World peace, one smile at a time!’ … ‘Yuropa United for a showcase of elegance and honor!…’
The audience wooed and whistled at the slides showcasing beautiful women. Some even chuckled at the unmannerly comments. Nervously, the assistant changed the acetates on the machine, displaying the faces of women who represented their neighboring countries along with a summary of their most notable achievements. However, right after reaching for the penultimate picture, Windsor’s assistant hesitated. Windsor nodded back, green-lighting the next picture.
It was a stunning blonde with curled hair, big blue eyes with cherry colored lips to match. Some men remained stunned, while most of them gasped, displeased at the headline.
‘Miss Westalis 1961… hides her Ostanian past!!!’
“What is the meaning of this?!” One of the men spoke raggedly. A few others shared apprehensive glances towards Windsor and his sweat-bathed faced secretary, while chatter continued. Windsor cleared his throat again, albeit anxiously— to keep his own composure, but, right before he could speak, Ostosky interjected as he pointed at the wall with his finger.
“That???!! That is one of the most successful re-brands a traitor has ever achieved!” The carrot-faced man grumbled and stirred back in his chair, “Beauty means nothing if you deny who you are. And worse! Feed lies about the land that birthed you!”
The Blackbell’s representative made a woolly-headed face. He exhaled deeply, while looking at the man continue to wave his hands and standing at the middle of the room as if he were supposed to be the center of attention. Certainly, Ostosky talking about beauty was ironic, a stand-up comedy gig. Windsor sighed again.
“This ‘re-branding’, as you call it, Sergei, is one of the reasons why we have to adapt to the times.” Windsor chastised the man, keeping himself lightheaded. “We’ve received an invitation to send our own representative to the Yuropa United competition for next year. And, I must say, this looks like quite the opportunity. I’ve already received some calls from our neighbors, international press, and we’ve even received calls from other ministers wanting to know if we’re open to host, if we decide to send a representative”.
Stillness reigned until some let out a few chuckles. It was Ostania’s Vice Minister of Culture's turn to stand up and approach Windsor as he put a hand on his shoulder to countermeasure.
“Sir, with all due respect. Isn’t this a little... too… vulgar for us?” He said in a low voice, though some of the men that heard immediately agreed.
“Nonsense!” Windsor pranced. “And you, my friend, understand this window of opportunity has opened for us!” He said cheerfully. With his free hand called for another hidden prop, as the wheels of a cart with a television and recording system all ready for the final sales pitch started to scratch among the tension. “Men, take a look at THIS!”
On the T.V., an Amerikan travel program appeared, featuring one of Ostania’s regions as one of their must see destinations.
'One of Ostania's most beautiful landscapes, home to Neustonstein Castle, world renowned heritage and traditions, Bayanese dialect, exquisite cuisine and breweries, architecture and festivals of the Ostanian Alps shine through in this...'
Still shaky, the assistant turned off the TV as Windsor beamed. “You see! This is a golden ticket for this first row spectacular chance to show the world the greatness of Ostania! Besides…" Windsor coughed discretely, with a lower voice "a boost for tourism wouldn’t hurt…”
“I’m sorry, but…” Burt Brayzen cut in, “can’t we show this in some other way? This is a pageant you’re talking about! We’re more dignified than this!” The CEO said incredulously. The chatter grew louder as if it were a courthouse deliverance.
Windsor scratched his head and loosened the knot in his tie, trying another angle. He seemed exasperated by now, mentally reviewing his last memorized lines. “This ‘pageant’ as you call it, Burt,” he said calmly, “will boost our economy in the short term… and” He highlighted with a sly grin, “we’ll guarantee ten million dalks worth of arrangements for business to all of those who participate as sponsors. But, most importantly… what should interest you more is that this can help us un-do the damage that our previous mistakes let the rest of the world think we're tyrants! You know what they say, Burt? That we were stuck in the past! Do you really want to be stuck in the past?” Windsor asked persuasively.
While others conversed, the central bank CEO intervened, unconvinced still. “If and only IF it’s decided, what’s in it for us? What would be our role in all this?”
“Charles?” Windsor said to the assistant so he could put on the last acetate on the screen.
Windsor’s mouth curled upward.
'Thirty percent worth of tax return, settlements for anyone that needed a renewal of operation permits'
The room as it roared in applause.
“Gentlemen” Windsor smiled, “I dare you! Let’s find the most beautiful Ostanian woman, and bring that title home!"
Champagne foam spilled and all the men cheered.
SSS Building Division One Office
August, 1967.
Only a couple of months after, wind of the event had made way to all government facilities. Through the halls of the SSS Building, chatter had also begun to burst as well, but in contrasting ways. Officers lingered near the televisions to catch a glimpse of the announcement of new contestants, while others ranked off the contestants attractiveness. And, there was Yuri. Contemptuously indifferent to all the controversy.
Well, almost.
For the last couple weeks, his ears subtly perked up whenever anyone asked 'Who the most beautiful woman in Ostania 'was, and fought against his better judgment to answer: 'Of course that's my dear Yor'. However, the closer the date of the event loomed by, the harder it became to avoid the intrusiveness of the questions.
At first, it had been inconspicuous.
It had been a sincere question from Johnson, who had been friendly enough to include him in the conversation he was very much trying to run away from. His mouth began to open wide, eyes beaming with pride only to retract abruptly at the next words from the squad.
'I bet they're all stupid. They look pretty alright, but what could they even talk about?'
'You want to talk to them? That's what you would do with them if you had the chance?'
Another officer teased, and Yuri frowned, dissatisfied. There were more important tasks than entertaining this piffle. Wasting their time in nonsense, which were mostly superficial matters, instead of interrogating criminals, hunting down traitors. Better then, trying to take down Twilight.
"Hey Briar! Who do you think is the hottest!" An officer asked from across, as Yuri took cue to leave the locker-room.
"Don't mess with the kid, he's like a robot, there isn't one thought that isn't 'siiiiiis' in that thick head" Another officer added.
Yuri pretended not to listen.
Brayzen Commercial Industries.
October, 1967.
Four weeks prior to the event, things appeared to be moving right on track.
While there was some backlash to the pageant from educated sectors, there was also a beaming expectation among the majority of the crowds. Nevertheless, rumors continued to grow as the commotion increased.
Initially, there were concerns about the security of the event, which seemed to be linked to hearsay that several businessmen, including Donovan Desmond, might attend.
Then, tension began to spread through other areas.
As expected, surveillance efforts increased, as did the pursuit of any suspects who might endanger attendees and at the same time, opposition to the contest also increased.
Various protests against the event emerged, with some groups expressing dissatisfaction with the use of public resources for its organization, while others highlighted the show as an attack on national values.
Opinion was jumbled, and stakes were rising. Thereafter, it took the first of many mysterious messages to finally upgrade their concerns.
It had happened at Brayzen Industries.
A message was found wrapped in carbon paper and decorated with letter cut-outs from various magazines in different shapes and colors. It appeared to have been left near the entrance, sparking controversy among who might have left it without arousing suspicion; the person responsible had probably worn gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, but this meant undoubtedly, the responsible had to be one of their own employees.
However, when scouring the footage it revealed nothing.
The ransom note itself, carried the intent to be deciphered; only making sense while put with the rest of the found messages targeting the rest of the organizers.
To sum up, the threat was clear: this contest was hiding something, or more precisely, a threat of an attack on the day of the final event, and, if the demands delivered to them in the next few days were not met, there would be dreadful repercussions.
Berlint City Hall Break room
Late October, 1967.
Smoke flew through Yor's nostrils as she stifled back a sneeze and scrunched her face, consternated. For most of the day, she had chosen to skip over lunch to avoid her colleagues, in meres of gaining a few minutes of solitude. Torn between acknowledging Sharon or keeping a her face straight, she mumbled a soft sorry for whatever thing she would be accused for. She could already hear her colleagues voices complain loud and clear.
'Yooooooor. Why didn't you eat lunch with us—'
'You're not that fashionable to pull that kind of accessory'
'Show us the hickeys, Yor!'
"AAHHHHHH! I'M SORRY!" Yor screeched and bowed as she finally looked back to Sharon.
"You're too jumpy. Here I was, about to ask you if you wanted to come with us for drinks" Sharon sighed, blowing smoke to her left and placing her cigarette on the ashtray, she paused trying to be as direct as possible. "I'll cut to the chase. They sent me to ask you why did you skip lunch and why you're wearing that hideous green scarf. Camilla's words. Not mine". She spoke, raising a hand dismissively.
"I-I—" Yor's knees wobbled and she stiffened. She had a lot on her mind lately, so maybe a drink or two would be harmless. No. Better stay sober, Yor thought, clutching on the rim of the break room's cupboard. "It was a gift! Yuri gave it to me as a souvenir from his last trip to Albo! H-He said it reminded him of the fields back home and—"
Sharon pulled on another smoke watching Yor become jittery. Yor was oblivious of their planned ambush, too nervous to realize they were no longer alone.
"Sweet as that gift was, Yor… A scarf? It’s not even winter yet. Even your little brother must have some sort of common sense in regards to basic fashion" Camilla teased, leaning on the door of the room. "Now, tell us what you're hiding!"
Yor panicked. Her palms became clammy, almost heating at the memory of Loid's hand wrapped around hers for the seventh time. Suddenly, her hand slipped off the surface and the motion made her sides hurt. Yor winced regrettably.
"What's wrong, Yor?" Millie asked genuinely as she entered the room, while Yor fixed her posture and laughed nervously. Camilla and Sharon both raised her brows.
"I had a little mishap while playing with Anya! Nothing serious!" Yor spat. Sharon sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder as she looked back at her showing a light tinge of concern. "Look at you. Such a bundle of nerves and stress! You could definitely use a drink".
"I-I don't—"
"We're not taking no for an answer, Yor!" Camilla insisted.
"Anssh, datsh wheen I triedsh to tell him! I want mores!" Yor hiccuped. She was swirling her raspberry on her Lady in Red comically fast, making a small tornado inside the glass.
"So that's why you're wearing that fug— I mean, signature staple around your neck. You know Yor, for someone this shy like yourself, it seems you handled quite well in the bedroom—"
"I-In-In the be-be" Yor uttered confused, recalling perfectly how she'd gotten a rash on her neck from helping Gympie test a new poison antidote on her.
"Okay. Stop. This is too embarrassing to watch. I knew that handsome man of yours couldn't be the whole package. Maybe you can get him to come around with another strategy. You know, to keep your marriage from reaching a dry spell". Camilla said, taking the glass away from Yor's hands and putting it at the other side of the table, foolishly hoping that doing so would sober her a little. Behind them, the bar owner had turned on the dial of the television right on the cue of the commercial break. Yor hiccuped again and averted her gaze to it, as a swinging upbeat song started, only to be followed by the voice of a famous late night TV host announcing the latest event that had stirred its way into the masses.
Millie sighed as stars shone from her eyes, glossing at the sight of pretty dresses and glitter. Sharon sipped on Yor's drink experimentally, souring at the slight seafood taste.
'Now presenting for the first time in Ostania! Our very first Miss Ostania Beauty! A contest of elegance and pride! Join us for a show of magical wonder set in our very own Bayan!'
"Ahh! I wanna go!" Millie said, while doing a little jumping on her seat. "Look how pretty! I wish I could be there, it's so glamorous!"
"Who are you rooting for, Yor?" Camilla asked as she leaned on the table to fix a smudge of mascara off Yor's face.
"Root for? Are there bindweedshh?" Yor blinked as she tried to connect the creeper plant to whatever they were asking her.
"You see, this is a beauty pageant," Sharon explained delicately, taking into account Yor's half drunk state, "This is the first time Ostania is going to host one. Some people are saying this is only a smokescreen to cover up for the rise of anti N.U.P protestors. Now, if you ask me, I think this is a smart move despite how low it might look to the most"
"L-Low??" Yor asked, confused.
"People say this is a setback. I mean, it's already hard being a married woman, taking care of a family. All of that while trying to remain youthful and compliant." Sharon mused as she took another poof of her cig. "Now they wanna show us how should the young and beautiful must look". Next to her, Camilla sighed and tsked.
"Well. It's not that bad. Being a woman, I mean. But, I guess I can agree that people aren't as amiable to you as you start aging. It's like you're not allowed to be beautiful anymore!"
"I-I hadn't thought of that." Yor spoke sincerely, while sobering up at Camilla's words. It was true. She felt pressured to keep up appearances for her marriage's sake, and hers, and for all that was worth, they had been faced with the same societal expectations. Yor gulped sorrowfully at the thought.
"Clock is ticking. Time isn't kind to many of us," Sharon said flatly.
"Exactly. That's why you have to step up your game Yor! You could learn a thing or two of these women" Camilla barked, as she leaned back on the seat of the booth. "They're young vibrant women and they're probably going to bag a spot in show-business if they don't land a wealthy man first!" She said jealously.
"I wanna see the show! We should ask if they can send one of us! Let's ask the Director! Shouldn't we be sent as representatives for Berlint? We're more beautiful than most of them!" Millie yelled, unmindful of how loud her voice rang across booths. "Well, me more than most, but still! It must be so dreamy to be in these designer dresses, shining in diamonds!"
Sharon sighed. "The age limit for the contest is 25, Millie. You just turned 26".
"Ahhh!! No fair! I wanted Jones to see me dolled up and fall for me once he saw me on television" Millie spat and resumed amicably despite being turned down, "Hm-mph. We should go anyway! Let's get tickets!"
"What do you say, Yor?" Camilla grinned, devilishly. Yor bit her lip, deep in thought. What could she learn from all of this? Would Loid mind if she went away for a couple of days? She shook her head. No, he wouldn't mind. Besides, maybe she needed time to take her mind off of him after all that had happened. Determined, she clutched her napkin and stood up.
The four women giggled and yelled excitedly.
"LETSH GO! TO BAYAAN!" Yor yelled before hiccuping and collapsing on the booth.
Pricey Restaurant
The restaurant seemed about half of its capacity. Chloe sat by herself, waiting for her date come by, flipping through the pages of an Ostanian poetry book in her hands. By now, she had waited a good half an hour, sighing and stirring to the point of boredom as she waited for the suspect to drop by. Her cover was simple. She would play the part of a young woman who had been stood up by her date, while trying to catch the attention of a rumored mob leader, who was known for smuggling information to the West's allies. She had frowned at the prospect of waiting by herself, but relaxed soon as she was reminded that she'd get a free meal in one of Berlint's top restaurants. Maybe, if she pretended to feel bad enough, she would get a free dessert too, propelled by the restaurant's generosity, or, most likely, pity.
However, even for this date, she made an effort to look the part. She had combed her hair back, securing her bangs with an eye-shaped brooch, while handling herself with grace for the most part. Her eyes darted to the left. A table with two older couples giggled as they shared some private joke, and right beside them, a table with three men in suits, talked through with a thick Suvsky accent.
Chloe spoke confidently through her earpiece. "I see them, captain. They're halfway through their soups. Shall I move on with the plan?"
Just as she asked, the men glanced her way, and she'd beam at them an awkward smile. She had to remember she was supposed to be frustrated, not happy at the prospect of the thrill of the chase. One of the men stared impassively, causing Chloe to stutter through her mic.
"Damn. He's looking" Chloe spoke discretely as she covered her mouth with a napkin.
On the other side of the line, an equally bored voice pitched through. "Of course they are, you're practically killing them with your eyes!"
"I thought they were looking at me because I'm too stunning, Lieutenant". Chloe joked. At her attempt to speed things up, she pretended to blow her nose loudly to keep them focused on her. Suddenly, another man entered the hall coming in from the back of the restaurant, cigar in his hands, his strut and posture confident enough to break a soldier.
Chloe squinted her eyes as the men stood around to greet the newly arrived. Delicately, her hands moved to the volume dial below the table, making sure to listen intently.
"The name is Latch. I was told you were expecting me". His deep voice confirmed Chloe's suspicions, so she began to speak again quietly.
"This is our guy. Wait for my signal".
From across the street, Yuri began to fix his tie and suit, ready to run towards the entrance while at the back, the First Lieutenant stood on guard for whatever eventuality. Beside him, another SSS elements shared a few glances at their exchange. They looked equally exasperated to be sharing an assignment with Briar.
"Your signal would be better if you gave us the visuals, officer" Yuri complained through the microphone. As he did, Chloe moved the salt shaker a few inches to the left, allowing the small camera to make up the scene on his screens. The men looked almost twice his size, but everyone at the station knew Yuri had an abnormal amount of strength. He just needed to be sensible, more calculated. Less irritated, which he was astoundingly failing at.
"Is that enough for you, sweetheart? So much for standing me up". Chloe taunted as she could sense his recklessness grow.
"Don't call me sweetheart!" Yuri yelled, rolling his eyes. Behind him, he could hear the other men stifling a laugh. He turned to them and spat, "Don't you stand there! Let's move!"
"Yes, sir!" Both men saluted.
While Yuri and the two officers prepared, the mobsters shared a clink of their glasses, making a toast as they wrapped their deal. Chloe's gaze remained set on them, but remembered that if Yuri's insolence was badly timed, at least she could gloat that they were distracted by her.
Just about a few steps before the entrance, Yuri sighed nostalgically while talking to the officers more cheerfully. "You know? I visited this place a few months ago. It's the best of the best! Although, they could improve their customer service significantly!" Yuri steamed and gritted his teeth, "To embarrass me in-front of my Yor. I swear, after we get these guys, I'm arresting everyone in this restaurant!!" He said, frowning with his fist in the air.
Quietly, their comms interrupted.
"Remember, this guy is violent. Try not to cause a commotion, lead them to the kitchen to avoid eyes. And, Yuri?" The First Lieutenant spoke, decisively.
"Yes, sir?"
"Please keep your goddamn voice low" The nameless man sighed, hotly.
"Ah… Too hard of a task for him, Captain". Chloe giggled through her mic.
"You!— Tsk. You heard the boss. Let's go!" Yuri commanded. They approached the host seamlessly, asking for the same table the suspects were seated at. Meanwhile, a waitress approached Chloe, eager to pour salt on the wound of being stood up.
"May I offer you something else miss? A smaller table, perhaps?" The waitress chanted sweetly, though her voice was laced with irony.
"Nothing. The lobster is fine" Chloe spoke nonchalantly, ignoring the waitress.
"Miss, you need to order an entree first. I'm sure the lobster is perfect for a larger party. Are they expected to show up presently?" The waitress pressed. Her amicable tone was starting to get on Chloe's nerves.
"Are we expecting the lobster presently?" Chloe mocked back, "Bring me your best wine while you're at it".
"Let me tell you the specials—"
"No thanks. Just the lobster" Chloe spoke intimidatingly. As she did, Yuri and the other officers glanced between her and the suspects, "You know what, make sure that lobster is well cooked. Do you know how they prepare it?"
"I'm sorry, I don't—"
"Go take a look in the kitchen." Chloe smiled, pulling the side of her dress up, uncovering her badge and her gun holster. Frightened beyond comprehension, the waitress turned her back, and ran towards the kitchen. Simultaneously, the leader, Latchkey Latch, stood up and moved his hand inside his coat, almost too fast for the average person to react. The SSS officers blinked, and Chloe pushed her table to make a safe shield to protect her from flying bullets.
"EVERYBODY DOWN!" Chloe yelled.
Panicked guests threw themselves to the floor while others screamed. At this, Yuri, the other two SSS officers, the mobsters and Chloe, all pointed at each other with their guns. Tension stifled in the air.
"Put your hands on your head, you traitorous scum!" Yuri spoke with a deadly glare.
Latch laughed and turned to his men, speaking in Suvsky, while ignoring completely that it was a language that Yuri had learned at sixteen. He responded with a chuckle of his own.
To ease the tension, Chloe stood up and walked next to her colleagues as she remained pointing at them. She spared a wink at the man that was ogling her all night, to which Yuri made a small blergh audible for their ears.
"Otkazat'sya!" Chloe beamed. The mobsters and Yuri looked at her surprised as they looked at her motion with her hands what they were supposed to be doing: putting their hands behind her head.
Latch laughed loudly. "AAAHH! Dasvat'a!" All the men laughed, and nodded. The agents stood confused as the exchange turned something more of a spoof than some serious prosecution. Yuri frowned, knowing exactly that the mobsters were only toying with her. She would definitely get an earful on that fuseless icebreaker.
The mobsters, scoffed and made a beeline towards the kitchen as they started to fire. All the officers ducked, and Yuri visibly steamed off irritated. "They're heading towards the alley, sir!
Bullets shattered a few windows, and some others bounced through various pieces of invaluable decorations. Chloe sweated nervously, thinking at the probable bill to be covered out of their salaries. Again.
However, there was no time for that.
Kitchen. Move, fast.
Chloe rushed over, taking out the pervy mobster with a shot at his leg, while jumping back as the waitress returned just as armed as her, while the rest of the mobsters escaped through the kitchen. Hesitantly, she called for Yuri and the other officers to head back to the alley and intercept them. Yuri obeyed, however annoyed, despite her being lower in rank. He made a mental note to scold her for this as well.
"You, bitch." The waitress spoke through a scowl.
Chloe replied cheerfully.
"How was that lobster? You know what, can you run me your specials now? Arresting lowlifes like you really work up an appetite!"
Meanwhile, at the end of the kitchen, Latch and his lackeys tried to escape through the window.
"Delicious. Specially while cooked alive. Wanna get a taste of it yourself?"
"We'll see. At least you got a nice meal before we send you to prison. No lobster there for sure!"
As the women continued their animosity, a loud series of gunshots were heard from behind.
Chloe sighed.
Better wrap up this soon. Yuri was probably fuming already. There was simply no time. Chloe lunged at the waitress and threw a punch at her, all while pinning her to the ground.
As they struggled, the other woman tried to wiggle underneath, reaching for her gun, while making most of the compromising position, Chloe lunged closer and began tickling her.
"S-stoop! Get off me!"
"No can do!" Chloe laughed, but soon as she had perked up that everything just went quiet, the waitress took an opening to reach for her gun. Miraculously, Chloe intercepted it just in time, but accidentally, the bullet landed on the entrance guard's thigh.
"Shit!" Chloe yelled, but soon after, she gathered enough strength to take out the woman out of adrenaline. Chloe punched her to unconsciousness, and as she fainted, she took her gun and handcuffed the woman.
When Chloe reached the alley, she came back to a scene where everything reeked of of garlic, and Latch, his mobsters, the officers and Yuri were covered in tomato sauce.
"Quite impressive." The First Lieutenant spoke in an almost uninterested manner. "Both of you managed to drive up our public debt!"
"Sir, we got the man," Yuri interjected. He wasn't sure if he would manage to make a case, but as team leader, he was responsible for all of the officer's actions. Unfortunately.
"You caused more than half a million dalks' worth of damage. Three civilians are injured, and don't get me started on how much their silence will cost us."
Chloe shuffled uncomfortably, knowing she was just as responsible for what had happened that evening. "It's not Lieutenant Briar's fault. I kept taunting that woman. She got in my head and I was—"
"Save it. You two can start typing your report. Make sure to let the Chief know that you almost made pizza out of the criminals," the First Lieutenant scoffed. The bags under his eyes had grown worse ever since he had spent almost half his time trying to mediate between Yuri and Chloe.
When he left far enough that Chloe could no longer hear his boots, she let the sigh that she had been holding. She felt relieved that at least, capturing the right guy had lessened up their punishment. However, being stuck in a room with Yuri was comparable to that.
"Lieutenant? Listen, about what happened back there—"
"Don't. Let's get this over with and finish up before the tram stops. We'll talk about it tomorrow, officer."
"Yuri..." Chloe insisted. Yuri shuffled, then took a piece of paper and settled it on the typewriter. "Okay. I get it. I shouldn't have ordered you to go. I most likely bruised your ego enough for the last few times, enough for it to get in the way of your side quest to become the head of the SSS or whatever fantasy you have. But you have no right to be so mad at me because you would have done the same in my position!"
"I have no right to be mad at you? I'm your superior, Chloe! You are my responsibility, and you reflect my work. What you do affects me!"
"You would have done the same thing. Have you forgotten how reckless you've been lately? Maybe I should tattle on you with Yor about it! I'll tell her how childish you still are!"
"Don't bring Yor into this. I could arrest you for lashing out against me. You don't want to test me."
"Maybe I do." Chloe pressed keeping her gaze flat and set on his fiery stare, "We're a team, Yuri. I apologized. We caught the guy." Yuri returned his attention to his typewriter and Chloe sighed.
"You know what? Fine. Let me handle the reports and you can go off to wherever it is you go to be an annoying ass."
Yuri stiffened.
Chloe looked at him pensively and sat down and began typing in silence.
She didn't want to think his coldness bothered her more than it should have. She knew him, she was used to go on about things like this all the time with him. That was just how Yuri was. However, there was a slight disappointment lingering inside her.
After all, she had left a door open for him to call her if he needed, not just as a colleague but as a friend. Guess, having been stranded on an island with him still weren't enough to warrant that apparently, nor giving him a small present for his 21st birthday, Chloe thought.
She sighed into the night as it faded with the clank of their typewriters, each tapping with coordinated irritation.
The next morning, Yuri had arrived with a couple of bruises and tire prints all over his face and coat. And while he wasn't an exemption to a night of hardworking, his deflated-ness made him stand out like a sore thumb.
The First Lieutenant fought back the urge to ask, 'Again?' as he lit his first cigarette of the day.
A few hours prior, Chloe had left both reports on their chief's secretary's desk and headed straight to her own apartment to squeeze in as much sleep as possible. Yuri, however, stayed a little longer, contemplating giving Yor the space she had recently requested. She had done it tactfully too, and although it broke his heart, this was the source of his hesitation. Deep down, he knew that Chloe had been right in calling him out for being angry at her.
Well. At least there would be a next time.
The winter holiday season was almost here, which meant that, even if he was forced to spend time with Forger and the Chihuahua Girl, Yor would be there too and they could talk about their next date.
Chloe took off her jacket and placed it on the hanger, only to see that Yuri was already there, his eyes darting aimlessly towards the horizon of their only window.
She paced around the space behind him twice before trying to speak. But, as she was about to do so, the door flung open by their less than impressed Captain.
"Both of you! Auditorium hall. It's a level 5 mission."
"What's going on?" Chloe asked, as she and Yuri moved through the crowd and arrived where their division was stationed.
Yuri remained in silent treatment and moved ahead of Chloe, standing proud and tall in a resting position. Then, the First Lieutenant and Chief Wilker entered the auditorium along with the other six captains from the other divisions.
The room quietened down.
Wilker paced at the front with his hands in his pockets and began to speak in a cheerfully sarcastic tone.
"Two days ago, we received a call from one of our captains in the south-eastern regions." With a wave of his hand, one of the captains— the one who always wore a coat instead of a uniform— switched off the lights, and a picture of an arrested suspect appeared on the wall at the back of the room.
"Mary Mintz."
Chloe shared a glance with the officer next to her, just as puzzled. To her surprise, many of the men seemed to recognize the woman, which led to indiscernible chit chat sprinkled with some displeased huffs.
Yuri remained indifferent.
She squinted, putting a hand to her chin to take a closer look at Mary Mintz.
Not bad, Chloe thought.
She could see the appeal, although she was a little too baby-faced for her own taste.
"Silence!" Wilker yelled, commanding the attention of the room once more.
Next to him and the other captains, the First Lieutenant shared a cautionary glance towards Yuri and Chloe. He appeared to be stifling a sigh— perhaps he needed a cigarette, given the way his hand twitched on his hip.
"Most of you will certainly recognize this woman. Mintz was the Friedeburg representative at the Miss Ostania Beauty pageant," Wilker emphasized, "and our intel has revealed that she was infiltrating an organization called the Daughters of the New Ostanian Revolution— whatever that means! But anyway, Miss Mintz has been detained, is currently facing interrogation, and has been removed from her position." Wilker sighed. "Unfortunately, this little incident has brought attention on to how well we're prepared for a threat of this magnitude."
"A threat?" Chloe whispered. "What kind of threat?"
"Shut up, Officer." Yuri snapped back in a low voice.
Footage showed off a burning building in the Miss Ostania Beauty offices in Friedeburg.
Wilker resumed. "The Daughters of the New Ostanian gang of delinquents have been linked to the series of events happening around local contests in other regions. At first, we thought they were feminist groups expressing dissatisfaction with the tone of the event. But, after Division One caught Latchkey Latch, Wilker said while grinning at Yuri, "we can confirm that whoever they are, they've been working with a mysterious criminal known as the Citizen." At this, Wilker took a puff of a newly lit cigar. "In this attempt, they knocked out the power. They trashed the stage. They even set the building on fire."
Chloe gulped.
Although it seemed far-fetched that they were so determined to take down a local contest, she had a feeling that there was more to this meeting than met the eye.
"Our SSS elements scoured the last location reported by our informants, a farm upstate, but there was no evidence of their activities. That's all we have. However, in the midst of this contest, the government placed an order upon our shoulders. So," Wilker scratched his head and flicked his cigar, lowering his head so his eyes could be perceptible underneath his shades.
"We're going to assemble a team. One who is meticulously prepared, cognizant of the true puppet-masters behind these deranged individuals! Of everything we know, this could be the work of the West! Twilight himself could be involved!"
Chloe, who had been looking at the back of Yuri's head, saw his ears prick up at the mention of Twilight.
"We must find out who's behind all these threats. We must catch them before they get away with their plan." The messages that appeared on screen were letter cut-outs arranged to spell out words such as: Miss Ostania Beauty will die.
"Great. Another boring babysitting type of job," Chloe grumbled.
"These people are going to be stopped, and Ostania's pride is going to be maintained!" Wilker declared, as the murmurs grew louder. "A team of officers will head over to Bayan. This is a full-scale operation! I want Division Six, Three, Seven, Four and One to handle any disturbances on site. It's imperative that we draw no attention to ourselves, given how many important people will be there. Every pillar of our country will be present at this event. We can't afford any mistakes. Take down these bastards! Arrest these criminals!" Wilker chuckled loudly and ominously.
Divisions Two and Five left the room, followed only by Wilker himself, who was pleased to have lightened the mood.
Clearly, to all who were involved this was a dream operation. They would be traveling to Bayan for the Miss Ostania Beauty contest and would be surrounded by beautiful women. Chloe rolled her eyes at the thought.
Each Division regrouped with their respective captains to get the tasks assigned to their teams. And as they got them, they took a leave and got in motion, jumping and cheering as they did. After the rest of the Division's cleared, there was only theirs left.
At last, the First Lieutenant approached them.
He strode carefully towards them, with a yellow folder in his hands and placed it on the desk with half his strength. He braced himself and looked between Yuri and Chloe, ignoring the other six officers completely.
"For some reason, our pizza incident hasn't made the worst impression. The Chief is quite pleased with our team than ever since our operation in Shellbury, and he's also grateful for you for capturing Latchkey Latch…" The nameless man paused.
Yuri's eyes widened with excitement at what this could mean. They had saved their team for last; so this must be worthwhile, he reasoned.
"Briar, you're next in line for surveillance on the field for this operation. You must assist our SSS representative in the contest. Aid them with whatever you can and gather information on anyone who might try to sabotage it."
"Wait, sir! I'm not in charge of this? What do you mean, 'next of line'?" Yuri asked, baffled by the implication. He was only outranked by the First Lieutenant himself in their team.
Chloe, observant as ever, found Yuri's reaction hilarious and snorted, then realized her mistake.
"What's so funny? I'm still your boss! This is an offense to my rank and—"
The First Lieutenant shot daggers at Yuri and cleared his throat. "Castle..."
"Yes, sir!" Chloe saluted, having grounded herself.
"In this preliminary plan, we need on-site and off-site surveillance, undercover judges, waiters, ushers, and metal detectors. And we need you on the team."
"You can count on me, sir!" Chloe beamed, feeling confident.
"Like I said, we've got an undercover blanket on this place. But because of the nature of this event — a beauty pageant — there are a few places we can't get into," the First Lieutenant attempted carefully.
Chloe raised a brow.
"In pageants, there are places that men aren't allowed in. Places where only contestants go. On stage." Their boss explained. Chloe basked in the silence as her mind slowly took in the information. At this, Yuri took a step to the side to see her expression.
"A-Are you saying?" Chloe asked, horrified. The rest of the words seemed stuck in her throat. She took a deep breath and exhaled in disbelief as the shock hit her. "No, no, no! You can't be serious! Don't you have someone else?"
"Officer." The captain replied, "We've already checked our records, and you're the only one of the seven women in our ranks who's within the age limit for registration."
Chloe's breakfast threatened to lurch back. The air around her felt too hot, so she took off her hat and used it to fan herself.
"Me? You're saying I'm going to be in the Miss Ostania Beauty contest?" She shrieked, panicking. Meanwhile, Yuri seemed to arrive at a similar realization.
"Wait! Hold on a second! Is she going to be in charge of this?" Yuri asked, frowning and sweating.
"You're going to infiltrate as well, as Chloe's assistant and coach. Make sure she's out of danger and keep an eye on the other contestants. It's not as good as being on the front line, but I suppose you don't want to parade your legs in a tight dress and high heels. Don't you, Briar?"
"Yes! No! Wait! I could infiltrate some other way! They'd barely notice I was there!"
"Save it. You'd look like a creep looming around the contestants for no particular reason." The Captain said flatly.
Chloe snorted again, and for a moment, she forgot that she was in the worst position.
"What are you laughing at?" Yuri complained, accidentally spitting from speaking so loudly.
"You have to do what I say. Take orders from me." Chloe laughed while staring at Yuri and looking incredulous as she returned her sight to her boss. "I'm sorry but this is one of your biggest jokes here, Captain. Hats off to you! It's been fun, but now give us our real assignment." Chloe tattered.
The First Lieutenant deadpanned.
"This is your real assignment: You, Officer Chloe will infiltrate the Miss Ostania Beauty pageant posing as the Friedeburg's runner up after Miss Mintz left her spot available. Briar will be your assistant and coach for any activity in which you need help. The two of you must find out who's behind this threat and catch the culprit before everyone gets their heads blown off on national television. Am I clear?"
"I-I— You're serious?"' Chloe asked again, sweat forming below her fringe. "I'm going to have to be on stage? W-Wearing… I'm going to be sick!"
"Get a grip, Castle. We're leaving for Bayan tomorrow morning. Practice a smile." The First Lieutenant turned to the exit, followed by the rest of the officers that waited to receive their instructions. "Briar?"
"Y-Yes sir?" Yuri wobbled, confused.
"Don't piss her off."
Yuri and Chloe looked at each other, dumbfounded.
Later that evening, Chloe curled on her couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she watched the news, and studied a pile of magazines that showcased beauty pageants around Yuropa for the last couple of years. Glitter, lots of it, different eye shadow palettes cast over the most beautiful of features.
She frowned.
It wasn't that she didn't feel beautiful enough or thought she couldn't pass as a contestant; it was the premise of the event itself that bothered her. It seemed reductive compared to what she had achieved in a short space of time. She was one of the few female state officers, and that fact alone was impressive.
At her recruitment, her short combat abilities had been praised, and she'd even managed to save Yuri from an armed suspect on her first major assignment. If she hadn't been good back then, their elite prodigy would have been as good as dead. This still felt like a very twisted joke put on her.
Then there was also the matter of being in the eye of the storm. There was an uncomfortable feeling at the thought of having that much attention focused on her for such superficial reasons. She was supposed to infiltrate their world, act like them and narrow it down to speeches about perfect days and dreams of world peace.
What a lie.
The smell of warm tea and freshly baked cookies made by Loid eased Yor's nervousness at her latest attempt to have a conversation. That night, she had returned quite shaken up after deciding hastily to join Sharon, Millie and Camilla on the event of the decade, but Loid, had interpreted her energy as left over alcohol. He had been kind enough to leave out a glass of water and some painkillers just in case she'd found her mood fluctuating steaming from unreasonable madness to heart-stopping kindness. So, when Yor stepped out of her room noticeably refreshed, a wave of relief washed over Twilight's worries.
Loid smiled as he placed their cups on the center table.
"What was that you wanted to tell me, Yor?" He asked kindly. Yor blushed, hiding her fingers behind the hem of her dress.
"H-Have you seen the news? L-Lo Loid?" Yor asked before chugging the contents of her cup.
Loid’s eyes widened confused as to why Yor didn't seem to mind how scorching the tea was. It was like watching her swallow lava in real time. He had real daredevil sitting casually in his living room.
He tried to smile back as if it were nothing. Deniably, this one of these common occurrences he had learned to turn a blind eye at.
He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he found it endearing, instead of clumsy. It was something so authentically Yor.
"You mean today's? I have a copy of the newspaper if you want to take a look" Loid said sincerely, taking a sip of his own tea.
"N-No! I mean… Have you been aware of the recent… There's an event coming up soon and— I was wondering!" Yor spoke erratically, brushing off her hand apologetically. Loid nodded and added, confirming he had.
"You mean the beauty pageant?" Loid asked, knowing the stakes behind such contest.
He was surprised as to why WISE hadn't involved themselves into it, given the newest turn of events. But he supposed it would be a matter of time before he did.
With the mobilization of different sponsors and wealthy organizers, they were due to attract trouble. However, even if he were well aware of it, he thought of it as a strange topic to have been brought up by Yor, of all people. She didn't seem too interested in gossip, lest an entertainment show made to serve as smokescreen for something, probably.
"People at the hospital can't stop talking about it. I didn't know you were interested about it"
"I'm not! I mean— Well, it's just that— Camilla and the others want to see the final live. A-And they already talked to our boss! And they want me to j-join them so—" Yor tried to explain.
Loid’s smile grew and he shook his head, almost as if he had understood what she meant between her cracked sentences.
"You don't have to ask me, Yor. I think it is wonderful you've grown closer to your colleagues, and you've always worked so hard, still do, going over the extra mile for Anya, as well" Loid said. "You're allowed to have fun."
"Thank you. I really think this will be a nice experience. Bayan is wonderful this time of the year. Their mountains wrapped around a white coat of snow, the beautiful music. It's such a lively environment." Yor said nostalgically.
With each word, a smile on her face formed as she remembered how she used to play with Yuri in the snow, and now, most recently, when she got to play with Anya, making snow-mans slightly terrifying in their last trip to Frigis.
She sighed, clutched her hands and asked again, softly. "W-Would it be okay if I took Anya with me?"
Loid chuckled, more relaxed at the idea. It wasn't he was relieved to have alone time, but the thought of them be removed from any possible work related mishap made his stomach settle pleasantly. Everyone would have a nice break, he most probably not, but still, he felt at peace.
But little did he know, at the turn of the front door opening with a loud bang everything would come to a sour end.
"Yaaaaaahoooooooooo, Sis!! I came to see you before I leave for a work trip!!!" Yuri yelled, looking just as sleepless but rejuvenated soon as he registered Yor's presence.
"Yuri!" Yor stood up fast, realizing how close her and Loid had been to another on the same couch. "You're going away for a few days as well?!"
To say Loid was overthinking about Yor recently was an understatement.
Yor had asserted her needs quite clearly in the last couple weeks. She was seemingly calm, but deep down he knew she was hiding a sorrowful disposition behind her smile. Or at least that was what he told himself, to avoid arriving at the wrong idea, as he had done in the past.
The only thing he could do was, agree to any petition she might make, and try to make her feel comfortable enough to share whatever was troubling her. Keeping the peace at home would definitely relieve his stress, and would make the rest of his assignments easier. That was the sole purpose of Operation Strix, after all.
Loid lent over his sink as he scrubbed off the left over dough on the cookie sheet. His ears were focused on the sounds his brother in law made as Yor explained she was going to be in the audience of Ostania's most talked about event of the year. Yuri had shrieked at the mention of Bayan, pretty much confirming his suspicions.
It had to be a matter of time.
The phone rang twice before he stopped the faucet, and wiped his hands with a pink kitchen towel Anya picked on their last opting as a family at a department store. It was girly, but the robot motif made perfect sense of her choice.
"Forger residence. How may I help you?" Loid asked against the speaker. On the other side of the line, Sylvia tapped her nails over her desk as he could hear clearly how the wheels of her chair turned to the left. She was probably looking at her wall, looking over at their progress with Operation Strix.
"Twilight. Meet us in 30. No meet up spot, we'll be waiting for you here at headquarters. It's urgent." Handler said stoic, but there was an amused undercurrent hidden in her tone. Maybe it was because her nails had given away the jingle for the beauty pageant had stuck into her head. Loid sighed and spoke back, waving back at Yor and Yuri while he dodged through his piercing gaze. "Thank you, I'll be meeting you shortly."
"Leaving us at last, Loi-Loi?" Yuri asked, not caring to hide his grin at the fact.
"I'm sorry Yor. One of my patients has been admitted at the hospital and he's asking for me to assist him through his procedure. He's been adamant he wouldn't allow his surgery unless I'm there for moral support." Loid lied.
"You're always so kind to your patients, Loid. They're lucky to have you. Go, I'll make sure Anya keeps resting while you're out. We had quite an exhausting day at the park today"
"Hopefully I'll be back in time dinner. Thank you, Yor" Loid said, softly. Yor's smile and eyes glowed between their cherry red and a pink hue.
Yuri tsked and crossed his arms. What was his deal, anyway. Yuri mused.
"Good evening, Twilight. Or should I say, good morning?" Sylvia said through a smile. She was sat on the head of the desk over at their conference room, to which Norman and Nightfall had already arrived a couple of minutes earlier.
Upon seeing him, Nightfall moved over to the other side of the table, choosing to sit next to the closest available seat next to Twilight, but by the time she did, he had already crossed the room, sitting on the one she had left. He greeted the older spy, and placed his hat over the table, and laced his fingers together, expectantly.
Sylvia began the meeting confirming what he expected. She shoved a Westalian newspaper over the desk. It’s bold headline and centerfold showed a glamorous picture– forty women lined up, wearing sashes that represented many different towns and cities in Ostania.
'Chaos in Bayan? Beauty pageant at risk!'
"That's… bold." Twilight said, sounding a little too judgmental than he would have preferred to.
"Not bolder than the thought many people have already been thinking about on an international scale. Ostanians think that we're trying to sabotage their little PR experiment and Westalians, and other countries as well, think they're bound to have a taste of their own medicine by none only than their own citizens. Windsor should know by now that this setup is a recipe for disaster. Because let me tell you, it’s the majority of people that aren't happy with the idea of this event taking place. Educated sectors, NUP detractors, feminist organizations, the list goes on," Sylvia pointed. She sighed and rubbed her temples before adding, "And now?—"
Twilight perked up, having a feeling he knew how that sentence ended, but foolishly, he hoped to be proven wrong.
"We have intel that the SSS is going to infiltrate the event, posing one of their agents as one of their contestants. Most likely, to fill up the space left by the recently detained Mary Mintz. Hence, WISE needs to do the same and infiltrate one of our own, just to keep this out of our court in case it's needed."
Nightfall’s chair screeched as she stood up promptly.
"Handler. If it's required, I can lead up with ease. I have discipline, athletic conditioning and I possess a long list of talents that can serve as distraction, probably even rivaling their SSS element. I will bring back the glory and I can show how perfect I am for the role just as I was for Operation Str—" Nightfall spoke briskly, just to be cut off by her colleagues.
"My good ol' Twilight can do it!" Norman cheered, just as other agents present chuckled along. Loid glared at him, while knowing it was just as good of an answer.
This was nothing, he knew. He could easily infiltrate and stop any threat from the inside as he had done before. It was his specialty, after all. Twilight’s mouth hid behind his curled fist, and he continued to hold his eyes closed, deep in contemplation. If it was needed of him he would do it.
"Certainly, this would be the most reasonable choice, however—" Fiona tried again, irritated.
"If Twilight enters, he definitely wins the contest!" Another agent chipped in. "The other contestants are done for!"
Loid cleared his throat uncomfortably.
As all the voices seemed to echo the sentiment, he couldn’t help feel trapped into the scheme already without having the chance to retort the proposal.
Miraculously, Handler intercepted.
"Unfortunately, you're right. Twilight would win this with ease, and for that and another reason, it's best he remains at the sidelines of this operation."
Loid sighed with relief.
Handler continued, as she unveiled the pictures of the SSS operatives that would infiltrate the event. He opened his eyes and exhaled, visibly unimpressed.
Of course.
He had heard him loud and clear as he had banged on the door.
A work trip.
Of course it had to be him. Twilight sighed and put a hand to his hair.
"Officer Chloe Castle of the SSS Division One along with their First Lieutenant, Yuri Briar," Sylvia paused, looking sternly at Twilight. "Your brother in-law and his newly appointed sidekick are representing Friedeburg as a replacement entry and her beauty coach".
Of course, Loid thought.
Of course it was Yuri Briar and that sharp-witted colleague of his. Yor and Anya would be in the audience, all right at the eye of the hurricane too.
Of course this was his luck.
Yuri knocked three times on Chloe's door before giving up and barging inside without any rebuttal. It was late already, and as he figured out from their previous adventure, she was most likely to oversleep.
"Either you wake up or I swear—" Yuri began, huffing outside her bedroom door.
"OH MY GOD! I'm sorry! I'm up!" Chloe yelled, shuffling inside her room, erupting with a backpack and eye-bags around her eyes. She had spent the last hours studying and trying to come up with the persona she would probably hate to live in as for the next week.
"We're late! Captain and the other's are waiting for us!" Yuri spoke, taking a leave just as she strode down the stairs after slamming her front door shut, probably loud enough to cause a commotion.
"Wait, who's coming with us? I thought only you and me would be on the grand scheme of things," Chloe asked nervously. Partially anxious, over the fact that she looked nothing like a beauty contestant: she was still in her worn out t-shirt, black shorts and her slightly childish slippers— shaped after a red fox, which he would definitely mock sooner or later.
However his reply never came. Instead, Yuri sneered, opened the door of the van and motioned with his hand for her to enter, as a mock hid behind his display of chivalry.
"Ready officers? We're taking the short road so you can get proper assessment and grooming" The First Lieutenant said as he fought back a smile.
Chloe frowned. It was annoying at how everyone seemed to enjoy her misery. She entered the van, slumped with her arms crossed as realization hit the back of her throat.
"WHOA WAIT! What do you mean with grooming!?" Chloe yelled, soon as the van hit the accelerator.
”WAIT!!!”
"EEEEEEEEEKKK!!! YOU MISERABLE FUCKS ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!!"
Chloe's screams echoed from inside the old government hangar that had been reserved for their team of specialists, courtesy of Windsor, as a thank you for having the SSS surveil the event.
Yuri sat on a lounge chair, flipping through files of the contestants and pulling up their weaknesses and ranking them up for a myriad of reasons that could be considered to plant them as suspects.
However, time kept passing and Chloe was no near done her 'preparation'.
He glanced over his watch, taking a mental note of how little it had taken him to get ready, compared to the third hour he had been waiting restlessly.
"What are they doing to her, sir? They do realize she's one of us? Why does it sound like they're killing a bag of rats inside a cage packed with cats?" Yuri asked the captain, partly concerned for Chloe, but mostly desperate to get moving.
"Save it. And don't ask her. I don't want to know either". First Lieutenant said, sitting next to Yuri and pulling out another cigarette.
In the background, the sounds of the metal gates opening were less pronounced with how unpleasant Chloe's screams were. And since they had been lots, both men didn’t bat an eye at the movement.
"Sir. That's the third one over the last half an hour, that can't be healthy— Sir? Are you listening?" Yuri inquired, oblivious to why his boss had gone speechless.
The nameless man blinked once, twice, and then another time after to be enough for Yuri to look back at what he was staring.
Six inch white heeled boots tapped over the hangar's floor, louder with each step.
From a far, Chloe looked like a tiny little dot coming out of the horizon, but as she neared by, every detail that had been 'enhanced' on her became clear.
Skin glowing up the track of her ridiculously defined calves, smooth, almost never ending above her knees, and only disappearing behind her mini-dress, a tight lilac ensemble with an hourglass definition.
With another blink, Yuri’s eyes only allowed to leer up her cinched corset-like waist for a second, and then to what it looked like a barely breathable cleavage, almost threatening to national security itself.
Yuri blinked fast as his gaze reached her face. Something strange and uncomfortable bubbled as he took notice of how her lashes looked even longer with brown mascara, and how the shade of eye shadow that matched her dress, made her eyes look impossibly sharp along with a killer cat eyeliner. Chloe had rarely needed to wear makeup, he realized. Her eyes were already long and sharp as they were. But this Chloe was strange. Confusing. She looked so different, yet she was still the same. Her face held a scowl that most likely get her disqualified for profanity. That was the Chloe he knew.
Yuri squinted harder as she approached and shook his head as if it helped him get these observations out of his head. Nah. That couldn't be her, he internalized.
But speaking of such movements, Chloe seemed to have done the same. Her curled hair, now longer, blew in the air settling behind her shoulders. To Yuri’s understanding, Chloe looked deadly, but not because of her attire but because of what she was mouthing.
Yuri stiffened as he tried to make out the words.
"I'm- going- to- kill- you!” Yuri turned to his boss and smiled ignorantly. “That can't be right. Sir? When will Chloe be done? I already made a list of possible suspects and—" He told his boss, cool-headed.
"I'm going to kill you, Briar!" Chloe yelled as she approached faster, his face incognizant to her anger, focused completely on his boss. Just as she was about to obliterate him to the ground, Chloe tripped, falling right in front of them, but quickly recovering to avoid anymore embarrassment.
"I'm fine. This isn't over. Best if we leave now and get this over with" Chloe steamed as she un-dust her hands, walking past them, to a dumbfounded Captain and a confused Yuri.
"That can't be right. That's not Chloe. She sounds like her, but she looks nothing like—" Yuri continued incredulously.
"I'm going to kill you! Hurry up! We got a contest to save!" Chloe yelled, snapping back towards their van as her hair extensions barely brushed over her backside.
Her usual feistiness in her tone seemed to make the trick. He broke free of that strange turmoil and fixed his glasses, strengthened the tie of his ponytail, and ran to her side.
"For world peace, right?" Yuri couldn’t resist the urge to irritate her, mocking her through a smile.
"Yes. For world peace". Chloe bristled through gritted teeth and a scowl.
As the First Lieutenant observed them bickering back and forth, he sighed, knowing this assignment was not worth just one pack of cigarettes.
"For world peace. Huh. Easier said than done"