"Blavier, Anchoretta. You two have proven yourselves worthy. Arrangements will be made for your assignments. Keep up your covers. Do not, and I repeat, do not feel like you can be loose at all. This war, this revolution, it's a dangerous place. It'd be a shame to see both of you on the guillotine."
Lancelot humourlessly chuckled. "We'd just burn it down, General. There's no need to worry," he twirled his hat in his hands, tossing it up onto his head. Jocelyn watched him with an emotionless side-glance. Two other committee members, a woman and a soldier, shook their heads at his negligent response.
"Certainly, Blavier. Now for your first official assignment, I want you to destroy the Kingdom's weapon prototype. We recently got a message that they've been developing new weapons with radioactive chemicals. Supposedly, the chemicals would combust and pollute a radius of a thousand meters. Somehow, they've engineered it to destroy gas masks, to burn through biosuits, and to kill any that breathe it."
The General placed down a piece of paper with two fingers, one of them pointing at the picture. The two spies studied the black and white ink, in the shape of a globe. On the globe was a grenade pin. However, Lancelot noticed that it wasn't for detonation, but for opening the reload socket.
"It's reusable," Jocelyn said, "There are little tubes of whatever substance on the table in the back of the picture."
Lancelot sighed. "They've really thought this out. Normal soldiers would never figure how these work."
The General nodded solemnly. He laid out a map of the intricately intertwined floors of an airship.
"I trust that you can do this. Infiltrate the airship, bring back the prototype if you can. If you're unable to achieve that, destroy it. Good luck, spies."
---
No one would've noticed the brown-haired boy standing at the side of the snack table, dressed handsomely in a tuxedo, for he was way too normal. He swirled around the grape juice in his glass, for he was still too young for wine.
The boy, however, was noticing everyone that came in and went out the ballroom. Tristan counted apathetically the footsteps of a particular person while waiting for another. It wasn't long until he looked up from the shoes of the person he was following and came face to face with that person.
"I found him," Alexa whispered, discreetly pointing at a man.
The man was scrubby, with a head and body shaped like a dumpling. There was a certain glint of mischief in his eyes that made him seem cocky. He wore a small necklace, and on that necklace was the key the two were told to retrieve. The gleaming key seemed too too much of an attraction, yet none other had noticed.
Tristan nodded hesitantly, for he had expected the Duke of Cambridge to look just the polar opposite of the short man. He supposed, however, there was only a slim chance of his predictions actually being correct.
The girl beside him stepped forward to make a move. Tristan's arm shot out, holding her back. He had spotted another man with the exact same key on his neck. Looking around, Tristan saw many, many more.
"We've been duped. They knew someone would try and steal the key to the basement of the airship in the ball," the boy lowly muttered. Alexa didn't react at all. Tristan surprisingly looked over at her.
"That's easy to predict. And it's also easy to find out." She started walking forwards, and this time Tristan didn't hold her back. He always had a thing for Alexa's plans. Every time, they would amaze him. A small smirk crept upon his face at his partner.
---
Alexa made sure that sufficient tears were falling down her face when she ran into one of the men, head down. The man stumbled backward at her force, and she looked up timidly. She started stuttering with striking actuality. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan watching her with extreme curiosity.
"Oh, oh! Pardon, pardon, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I wasn't looking, I'm so-"
The man waved her off. "Don't worry, you didn't mean to," He seemed to study her for a bit before softening, "Pardon my insensitivity, but why would such a beautiful woman like you be crying at such a merry ball?"
"Oh, kind sir. I appreciate your concern, but I would prefer if I didn't tell," Alexa reached up to wipe her tears away but the man caught her hand. He used his gloves to wipe the water off her cheeks.
"Now, now. I hope you wouldn't be in such a state from now on. We're all having fun, so you should do the same."
"Certainly, sir. I would like to go and clean up if you would do so much as let me."
"Hmm," the man hummed, looking over his shoulder, "Let me accompany you to the restroom, Madame. Please do not reject, it's common courtesy."
Alexa walked past Tristan and out of the ballroom. With a simple flick of the hand, she pointed at the man beside her. Tristan nodded. Watch him.
She stopped in front of the bathroom, tip-toed, and kissed the man on the cheek. "I cannot express my gratitude for you, kind sir. Sadly, I might have to let you leave me. It'd be an embarrassment to know that you're out here while I'm cleaning up."
The man nodded, walking away. Alexa blinked after him, her hand tucking the key into her palm.
---
Tristan glided his eyes across the crowd, motionlessly following the man with his sight. The man ran to another handsome, sagacious male, also with a key on his chest. The real Duke of Cambridge did fit his predictions.
The previous man pointed at his empty neck, then the way that Alexa had gone. Tristan nodded at the girl that had appeared beside him while he was concentrated on the two men.
"Now we've found him."
Doesn't it feel sad to complete a book series or a tv show of some sort? It leaves me empty for some time.
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...
