Double Agent

○ thirty five ○

| Ezra |

Light from the undrawn drapes literally burn my eyes and I shift in bed, turning around to reach for Isadora and pull her into me. My palm grazes over a pillow and not her waist and I shoot up in alarm. She's never up early, and even if she is, it's always after I get up.

Sliding out of the sheets I prowl around the penthouse, searching areas I know she's most likely to be at. She's not in the kitchen, not in the gym, not in the weapons arsenal and not in the hall.

Fuck me.

I run my hands through my hair and sit on the sofa with my head in my hands, breathing deeply. I haven't been this anxious in forever, especially since I know exactly where she is. My heart physically burns in frustration and I'm so fucking pissed I can't even see the coffee table in front of me. I rub my temples in circles, formulating the most probable plan that involves neither of us getting hurt.

There isn't one.

"Anna, I'm going to the Nostra's main house to find Isadora. I don't want any backup and I don't want anyone there. I will try to reason with them without a bloodbath, because with the number of people in that house even with all our available on-site agents we'll never make it out alive. We need maximum strength for this and I don't have time to gather that right now. It's most likely a trap for me but I'll try to get Isadora out of there. In the meantime, gather up all on-term and off-term agents, we need as much strength as possible. If I'm not out by the time you gather them send them in as soon as possible. Stay safe and don't do anything stupid."

"Have you lost your fucking min-," is the last thing I hear before I end the call and throw my phone down onto the sofa. 

Briefly, I wonder if I should tap myself just so we might have verbal self-incrimination instead of the physical papers to prove it. A verbal confirmation is still grounds to arrest. One of the most frustrating parts of being an agent is the fact that our main job is to arrest, not kill. We only kill when our life is in danger. A blood bath is exactly what we want to avoid.

The car sails down the expressway, ECHA displaying the directions on the windshield. My leg fidgets up in down in aggravation. I don't know if I'd be able to hold myself back from murdering every fucking person in that house if there is even so much as a scratch on her. To be honest I'm not even sure what I'll say to them. I don't have the papers, but I don't think they'll believe me.

I pull up beside the ugly fucking fountain, leaving the car in the open to announce my presence. I watch the door, waiting for it to open, refusing to move closer. The exhaust noise would have alerted them, if not for the two fucktards watching me from the top floor window.

True enough the door opens and Gianna Rinaldi walks through the door, hands open in a mock welcome gesture.

"Ah, la notte in un'armatura scintillante. Welcome." She smiles slyly. (the night in shining armour)

"I don't have fucking time for this Rinaldi. You fucking know we don't have those papers, so how about you shut the fuck up, stop acting like you're two years old, hand me who I want and piss off."

"If you want her you'll have to come inside, my darling."

"I will not be going anywhere. You're gonna bring her out here, and you can keep your counterfeit papers," I shake my head in disbelief. Talk about a dysfunctional mafia that can't even commit crimes properly.

From inside the house Isadora screams in the most gut wrenching agonising voice I've ever heard, "Cavolo! Fa male!" (Fuck! That hurts!)