She was always invigorated after a job, that was no surprise. Every one was her last one. The small play, the long con, she knew them all.
I barely had time to open the door when she was on me. Her breath pushing heat back into my mouth, she always chewed on mints on the job. She grabbed my face and hair, hungry and in need, her lips found mine mashing hard. The goods fell to the floor, I saw her apology in her eyes and in an instant-
-Pain needling migraine strong behind my right eye
-Something moving off her hand in my peripheral vision-cold wet across my scalp-crawling across my skin in goosebumps as I could see she was silently trying to scream
-hearing crisp dress shoes coming up the back stairs
-her tongue pushing into my mouth-my pulse racing instinctively-instincts trying to pull me away
-the briefcase opening in slow motion
-her breath hitching-
Slammed me into the wall breaking the infinite moment. My head was a blur, what was going on?
“What was that?”
She was on me again, needing and pulling me into her. Blur again, her teeth on my neck, I could feel fibreglass stinging there, hissing I pushed her away. “The mark knows where we-”
And then she threw me to the floor, I skidded a little, head bouncing off the floor. I tried to tell her that the cleaners were coming, that anyone and anything-Time crawled and I couldn’t move, just felt her. My head was pushed to the side, her mouth hungry and stimulating my carotid, spined tingles up my spine as the waves of dizziness came over me. She pinned me to the floor with surprising strength.
Stomach churning- missing something in the case-that cold and wet again-circular spiked logo-that smell of mint-heart now pounding and my lungs failing-drowning in darkness- something blurred vision-
Hand smacking my face hard, tooth come loose. She was across the room now. Looking around, confused like a trapped animal.
“Angela, love you baby but if you keep this up-” Tried standing up, arms and legs stumbling like new born. Couldn’t feel my left side.
‘Submit.’ That was her voice, but her lips didn’t move. And it was devoid of all emotion. It came from-
“We gotta go, the cleaners.”
She stopped, and something flashed in my vision, stomach churning again, I bolted for the bathroom. I could hear the footsteps in the hallway. Reached for my phone, contact the cleaners, tell them to come in half an hour- My insides heaved and I couldn’t see again-Can’t go out like this-
Stumbling back out, one black suit on the floor, I could see a pair of shoes twitching marionette a foot off the floor. Angela holding one of the cleaners by the throat. Her little frame flexed up. My vision cleared again, and I could see the biohazard logos on the inside of the briefcase. Two of three vials, the other, they looked silver. That-
‘We’re marked.’ Her voice coming from somewhere. No, -my head? ‘Stop me! I can’t kill this-‘
Her body flexed and the cleaner stopped twitching.
“We gotta get to the train-”
Then standing up, she looked at me, she had the palest blue eyes, but I couldn’t see them. Her eyes, silver mirror pools, face hollow, and skin bruised. I went to her, finding the strength from the panic. An infinite tunnel of my face looking to hers in the reflected mirror to mirror. Wait that-
The command broadcast blast through the back of our heads with simultaneous spurting nosebleeds.
Suitcase. Latitude and longitude coordinates. Date and time. Obey or pain. End Transmission.
Something exploded along our spines in pleasure, energy, and pain. I could hear her scream in wrenching pleasure as they took. I’m sure she heard me. Our limbs moving jerkily beyond our- Control.
They were in control. We weren’t players anymore. Pawns. Marks. And with our eyes looking like we used mercury for contact lenses, we were marked. Marks.
The game got us. And I knew they set us up.
And the first opportunity I would get, I’d make sure this was our last job.