The streets of Fréthun roared with waves of rebellion. Cries of mutiny, roars of blood, and screams of maniacal need filled the city's crimson streets. Beside Lancelot Blavier, a guard fell dead, now to be silent forever. The spy pulled his felt hat further down, watching the feet of the townspeople.
"Lance, North Tower, eleven o'clock," Jocelyn muttered, striding past him. She pushed through the mob of chaos and past the guards just as Lancelot peered to his left. Green lights flashed in his analyzing green eyes, mind burning with the pattern.
The boy with the felt hat ducked his head down once again. He spotted the shoes of his partner, slithering past the crowd like a snake. Lancelot skirted through the rabble as well, a cautious hand on the special Queen Anne pistol hanging by his waist. Meanwhile, he repeated continuously under his breath the tiding robotically.
"0176, cell, four, defect. 0176, cell, four, defect."
Jocelyn ducked into a dark alleyway, making sure that Lancelot caught the sight of her foot before disappearing. She knew he would.
The boy appeared seconds later, with the Queen Anne pistol cocked and loaded, steady in his left hand. "0176, cell, four, defect." He repeated once again, this time to the solemn girl in front of him. She nodded.
"Go get her," the girl checked her timepiece, "Sadly, we'll have to wait 'til tomorrow for them to finish this. We need to leave in thirty minutes to get back."
"The defect?"
"I'll hide her, somewhere."
---
Green eyes flicked to the side, at the battered up girl. A certain sense of worry appeared as a clump in the back of Lancelot's throat. A bullet had torn through his partner's shoulder, leaving a dark, spreading crimson splotch in her shirt. He swallowed the lump. The defect, who Lancelot learned was conveniently a nurse from the previous wars against France, tied the wound up tightly with his shirt. His buttoned-up coat revealed just the slightest bit of skin.
Lancelot warned the two females of a sharp turn. He proceeded to gun the gas pedal and sped forwards, no emotion present anywhere on his face. Jocelyn's eyes followed the gate as they passed it without trouble, for the guards were all repositioned in the midst of the commotion. She could still faintly hear the muffled roars and screams of the townspeople. Her eyes flicked to her partner briefly, seeing through his glassy eyes for no more than a few seconds.
Jocelyn gratefully smiled at the nurse. She took a deep breath, willing it not to hitch at the pain. "We'll be temporarily keeping you with our trusted officials. Tomorrow, midnight, you'll be safely sent to the Central, where you will then be located to your relative in the city."
The nurse nodded, a relaxed sigh leaving her mouth. The first words that came out of her mouth were words of gratitude."Thank you, thank you so much."
"Of course. Your brother was a great help to us. Central would never deny favors from benefactors."
---
The library was always quiet, and even quieter near sleeping hours. Tristan rolled a pencil across the table silently, eyes never leaving his books. Alexa caught the pencil with a tap of her hand in the same manner.
"Oh, Tristan? I never see you in the library."
The boy looked up at Harrison, a professionally masked grin plastered on his face. He shrugged carefreely, making sure his voice was carefree and happy as well. "I guess I finally decided to study for once. Cryptography is my favorite subject, after all."
Alexa gandered at the boy sitting in front of her. The sudden change in his demeanor never failed to surprise even her. It was something that Tristan had learned to master as part of his survival: to make his real personality disappear in the span of mere seconds. The last of his French-accented English was the first to vanish.
Harrison nodded, his lips quirking up, his eyes smiling. "I see, I see. Good luck, then."
Tristan hummed in response. The girl on the opposite side of the table scoffed. His facade instantly dropped, his smile washing away.
"Scamp," Alexa stated, closing her book that she hadn't been reading at all. Tristan shrugged yet again, putting his book away as well.
"I'm not a scamp; I wasn't planning anything. I was merely stating my cover."
"Don't lie to me. I know you better than you think I do."
:-)
Music recommendations if you possibly like alternative rock: Something Good Can Work by Two Door Cinema Club
YOU ARE READING
Operation Reconnaissance
ActionPrior to war was a serene time of peace, and peace was hallow. In the course of the war was a tumultuous time of chaos, and chaos was a tornado that whirled in innocents into the eye of the storm. War was a curse put upon the two quarrellin...
