Page 12 of Ashfall
I stare down at my phone - at nothing. I don’t have social media on my mobile, for security reasons. But I feel like I need to monitor this as Blitz, who is speaking fluent Russian back, seems to have found a new plaything in the middle of a high street, in enemy territory. Our girl is a total wildcard. She is incredible at what she does, to an insane level. She’s five-foot-eight, with porcelain skin and a slender build. She moves like lightning on the field; whoever gets in her path usually has their limbs dissected shortly after. Likely blown up by a minefieldshe’s lured them through. She also doesn't give off special ops vibes - she's more Harley Quinn to the core. She has the hair to match it as well. Most people get distracted during an altercation because, one, her wild blonde hair with the faint yellow dip dye is unusual for our line of work. Two, if you’re in her path, she’s usually laughing like a maniac before she rips out your jugular with one swipe. She's the ultimate secret weapon.
Fifteen minutes later she waves the guy off and strolls lazily over to me, linking our arms as we head back to the hotel. “I’m thinking of getting a leash for you, Blitz,” I mumble as I lean into her.
“Hey, don't threaten me with a good time,” she deadpans and I bark out a laugh. She's so mercurial and sometimes I wish I was on the same planet as her. “And before you give me a lecture, I asked that guy about where the hottest spot to go this weekend was, for someone looking to get into trouble of course.” She wiggles her eyebrows
“Go on.” I urge her, wondering where this is going.
“Exactly where we're going: Peklo, which means‘Hell’in Russian by the way. Says it's packed Thursday to Sunday, that the owners are theVolokov’s,whom he works for. He usually joins them in the VIP area on the second floor. Gave me four free passes.” I whip my head round to look at her, and she’s smiling like a dog with two dicks. “I led him astray, told him we'd turn up tomorrow and I'd meet him there.” She shrugs. “But at least we’ll get a better scope around now.”
“You always seem to amaze me, Blitz,” I laugh as I stare up at the sky.
“There's method in my madness.” She tugs me closer and we laugh our way down the street, looking like a couple of girls ready to hit the town, and not two highly trained killers ready to go on a mission that could quite possibly be the end of us.
I flop onto the hotel bed, arms wide with the bags still attached. It’s nice to have a normal sized room compared to the one at base. It has a dark grey carpet, large bay windows with matching grey floor length curtains - a bare minimum feel, but a luxury nonetheless. The walls are a migraine welding white but make the place feel spacious. It has a dressing table, large black wardrobes that sit on either side of the ensuite door. The bed is a king size also adorned in white bedding. The first thing I did when I arrived was lie on it and stare into the ceiling. Waiting to see if the mattress would swallow me whole as I sank into it.
My body is still filtered with the lingering feelings of unease. Anytime an unwelcome thought about Noc’s motives comes to set me alight, it’s counteracted by my memories of him. I need to nail the lid on these feelings, otherwise I might do something utterly stupid - like get us all killed. I summon my old, familiar companion of cold-heartedness, and request it consume me. Tonight, I have a role to play, a mask to wear, and nothing will pull my focus from the mission. I get up and head to turn the shower on, letting the room fill with steam before I step in, the boiling water washing away any remains of the emotions that are threatening to break through the walls I've placed around myself.
I step out and wrap myself in a towel. I start with my makeup, my eyes done with a light brown palette and I managed to get a hold off. I'm a tad out of touch in the eyeshadow game - it's usually someone's blood I wear on my face. I watch a video on the internet of someone doing contour, feeling like an absolute dinosaur with my movements. I can't remember the last time I hit a club, it’s usually a bar when we aren’t covert. This isn't even a proper night out. And I get more of a kick going into danger than any dancefloor could bring me.
Satisfied with this version of war paint, I dry off my hair and pin it up, taking the red wig out of its packaging and brushingit down. I slip it over my head and secure it into place, it's so good it looks like my own hair - well worth the $600. Thank you, government funding. Grabbing my dress and heels, I slip them on and head over to the floor length mirror to assess the final product. I take a step back, I don’t even recognize myself. I’m usually covered in someone’s blood, or have a knife in my hand rather than a purse. It’s giving Jessica Rabbit vibes with the hair; the dress is poured with curves. I’m not the skinniest of girls, but my body shows that I've worked hard for it. Little would anyone know it’s got 10 years' worth of elite tactical training. For the first time in a long time, I look feminine - dark feminine energy at that.
That’s because you secretly want Noc to see you.
Nope. I visibly bat that one back over the walls it's escaped from.
I head out the door and rattle my knuckles in the signal to let Hawk know it’s one of us. Phantom opens the door, his imposing six-foot-one height blocking the doorway, and he remains in my way when I try to enter, letting out a low whistle as his eyes rake over me from head to toe. “Well damn Nyx, you brush up well.” I roll my eyes, pushing past him with a pat to the chest. “Cute outfits by the way.” I say, my head nodding between him and Adam. Phantoms in a black t-shirt which strains against his muscles, black jeans and matching overshirt which lays folded on the bed - it blends in well with his dark hair and equally tanned skin. Adams basically went for the same, except he's tried to add a little diversity with a grey t-shirt instead. Phantom rolls his eyes. “I told him to get something different, but he wouldn't listen.” he shoves Adam who nearly rolls off the bed with force.
“Phantom! Get your paws off my date you snake.” Blitz waltzes in from the bathroom, she looks completely unrecognizable. She’s got a long black wig on, dark brown contacts which are a stark difference compared to her big blueones. She wears a red midi one shoulder dress and black sandals and matching handbag. The three of us stare at her, mouths open and eyes wide. She comes to a complete halt in the middle of the room “What?” that’s when Hawk finally takes notice of us and looks up “Blitz? Fucking hell. You look ... You look like a regular person?” Going by his tone, I know he was worried what she'd turn up like. “Ugh, I know. I feel horrible.” She pulls at the dress and adjusts her bra, like she can't wait to claw the whole thing off. Adam gets up and takes her hand, spinning her around as she giggles “Well you look perfect to me Blitz.” She lets out a little smile when she looks at him, a small blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“Okay, devils, you've had your fun. Time to get down to business.” Hawk’s lets us have our laughs and fun when we can afford them, hell he even starts it most of the time. This kind of work can drain a person's soul. We don’t really have much of a life out with our unit, we've only really got each other - and we make it work, we keep each other sane. “You know the drill already. I want you all to keep safe. And with Blitz getting you into VIP, there's a possibility you're going to see Volokov. Try to stay out of his way as much as you can, observe his inner circle. Get pictures with each other and try to get important layouts or people in the background. But most importantly, make sure you all come back.”
We've all worked together as a unit for almost three years now - never losing anyone. This is likely one of the most dangerous missions to date, going into enemy territory with no defenses. Everything from here on out is going to have the heat turned up once we identify Volokov’s inner circle. With that, we head out the room and take the elevator down into the main entrance, two black taxis wait outside for us, each giving us a nod as we split into our fake couples for tonight and go play with danger.
CHAPTER TWELVE
nyx
Peklo is tucked away in a side street branching off from the city’s main road. Concealed within the reddish-brown brick exterior that blends in with the rest of the industrial buildings around it. Up close, that’s where the real motive lies. Blacked out windows, reinforced with metal bars and pulsing lights and the faint, subtle thump of a beat that grows as we edge closer. The entrance is a five-minute walk down the narrow side street, hidden from prying eyes. Above the door, the club’s sign hums with a white and purple neon flow, pulsing in time with the bass now vibrating through the wall.
Outside, clusters of people linger - cigarette smoke curling into the night air as laughter and slurred conversations weave together in a chaotic symphony. The queue wraps around in a L shape as people wait to gain entry. Adam and Blitz head up to a bouncer, the guy looking over their ticket before pointing at them to join a queue on one of the farther sides. It's much smaller - only six people waiting to head in with a purple wristband, instead of the longer wait that the regular clubbers seem to have. Once they’re in, it's mine and Phantom’s turn. The young guy behind the desk looks bored out of his cranium, lips smacking away as he chews and blows his gum into bubbles,before snapping it back into his mouth. He wraps my wrist and takes my coat before giving Phantom his band.
Adam turns discreetly, giving us a subtle nod, the silent cue to break off and blend in until we reach the upstairs level. Blitz and I just need a light press to our earpieces to stay connected, while the guys tap the side of their watches, keeping the movement casual and unnoticeable. For us girls, it looks like a quick brush of a finger over our ear, the device hidden beneath loose strands of hair. The club on this floor is already bursting with life. The layout is a perfect square, booths and tables framing the perimeter, while the dance floor sits slightly sunken at the heart of it all, the DJ booth perched dead center, commanding the beat that drives the night.
It glows, a surreal beacon in the sea of people. The DJ stands caged behind a mesh barrier, swallowed by swirling smoke and neon lights that pulse and streak through the air. For a moment, it looks as though the platform is floating. Four sturdy beams anchor the booth, supporting a raised platform high in the air that functions as a miniature lounge. People recline against the benches lining the edges, some leaning forward, peering down at the crowd. Phantom places his hand on my back to lead me through the crowds. The bar is nestled on the back wall. It glows with the white lighted panels, black marble stretches across it whilst people queue to be served.
We wait about ten minutes until Phantom gets through to order us a drink, I can’t seem to pick out the familiar faces I’m searching for in the blur of swaying people, but then my earpiece crackles to life “Adam and I are heading upstairs, we'll head over to the left and lock down two tables near each other.” Blitz’s voice sounds muffled from here, so I know she’s had to shout slightly over the thumping music. My ears are going to be ringing in the morning, and not the kind I’m used to that accompanies a spray of bullets. Phantom leans on the bar,sliding cash over the marble whilst I lean on him, one hand on his shoulder whilst I adjust my heels. Anyone will think we're just a regular couple on a night out.
When we get to the top of the stairs which are blocked off by purple rope, we show the guy our bands before he nods and lifts the rope to let us through. The VIP bar mirrors the ground floor in every sense, same placing except the lights pulses with purple. There's also a vastly more expensive collection of bottles that sprawl the stone wall behind it. It signals the net worth of the kind of idiots who spent their fortunes for a night spent in this section. Phantom clocks Adam and Blitz as he leads us past them and heads to the mini booth right behind them. The middle sections of these balconies have smaller booths fitted for 2-4 people, whilst the outer ones are for larger groups, several of them already filled.
I take my drink and sip at my straw, grimacing when I realize its JD and coke, I fire Phantom a death stare whilst his shoulders shake into himself. The last time I drank this was when I asked Hawk if he wanted to come back to my room. All of us thought it was a great idea to polish off two bottles post-deployment. I swore to every single one of them I'd never drink it again. I kick my foot under the table before shouting “Asshole” at him, pressing my earpiece in for dramatic effect. “Don’t worry, I'll get you a non-alcoholic one next time. Can’t have you going back and trying to sleep with the skipper... again.” I flick my straw at him, because kicking him in the balls would draw too much attention.
We’ve limited ourselves to one, mostly not to raise suspicions. I press my lips around the plastic straw, my gaze scanning the other side. The balcony wraps all the way around, on the other side is a mini dance floor which has a TV on the wall, showing the inside of the DJ booth. My eyes shift to the middle platform - a walkway connects from just behind ourseats with an identical one mirrored on the opposite side. It has gates instead of ropes, and is distinctly, strictly off limits as two men stand guard on either side, occasionally glaring down at the crowd below.
The lighting here is lower, and hazy, making it nearly impossible to render the figures seated there. But the numbers speak volumes. A large group is gathered, and positioned deliberately. This must be where Volokov resides. Why else station four guards at each entrance if not to protect someone important. The moody lighting outlines the shadows of silhouettes of those inside, only able to get a rough outline if I study hard enough. I turn back to chat to Phantom, ensuring I'm not lingering long enough to get us noticed.
My finger brushes the earpiece as I lean over to Phantom to alert the team, “I’m gonna grab a mixer to dilute this, do you want another? I’m gonna check out what’s through that door behind the bar.” He subtly presses his watch like he's readjusting it. “Sure, I'll keep watch here.” Grabbing my clutch, I head over to the bar, giving the girl my order as she nods, “I just need to head through the back and get a new bottle, is that okay?” I smile at her and take a seat.
She disappears through the back, just as a prickling awareness settles over me. An old, familiar feeling of eyes scorching over me ignites my skin. My neck tingles, instincts kicking in, and I drag a hand over my hair - Paranoia. He's not here. I doubt he’s close enough to run into him like that - but then again, what do I truly know about him. The feeling creeps back, sharper this time, causing my body to sizzle with electricity. I bite the bullet, shifting as if merely adjusting the placement of my dress as I stand.
