The Rose Of Flames

Chapter 7

"Well, then, Mister Reis, Morris, and Miss Amora," Catherine was saying as she disembarked the plane, "I believe we have come to an agreement."

She had just landed in Rialto, having recently finished conversing with the leaders of her group's allies. She knew this would have to work; she merely hoped that they wouldn't keep prying her group members for information on their past.

And if I ever meet them in person, that they don't keep trying to figure me out, Catherine thought with a sigh as she massaged her right eye. That blasted explosion did a number on me.

Catherine hated to admit it, but she had been through a lot. Explosions, kidnappings, the whole enchilada, she reminded herself as she left the airport and stepped into the city of Rialto.

It was gorgeous; she could overhear music playing in the air as she traversed the stone streets. She could see petite stores and cafes around. People roamed, the sound of Italian voices reaching her ears. The canals were littered with gondolas and other small vessels.

She smiled as she heard the leaders chatting with the three Mediators. They had just come back in to sign the arrangement for the temporary alliance. Catherine could hear their voices discussing, but had stopped truly listening. She tugged her hood down slightly, making sure to hide her slightly-exposed two-tone azure eyes. She knew they would stick out like a black eye, and she would rather keep her identity obscure.

She sauntered to an Italian cafe and took a seat near a window. She slid her glasses up a bit as she looked at the menu. A waitress came by and asked what she'd like to drink in Italian. Ordering a coffee, she looked out the window, gazing at the canals. They're gorgeous, she thought with a smile. And to think that those canals could be easily exploited to help save my sorry ass.

Catherine sighed, gazing out at the Italian streets. It was her first time being there in person. Remind me to have the Wanderers come up here, she thought, brushing a bit of short blonde hair back behind her hood. She looked down at her phone, skimming through some notifications before pocketing it once more. She tugged her ripped fingerless gloves up a bit, ignoring the tiny scars that covered her fingers. She'd grown used to them over the years; they hardly bothered her now.

Suddenly, she heard heavy footsteps. Turning, she saw a group of what appeared to be soldiers in armor that she didn't recognize. She spotted a symbol on their sleeves: it was a red T. Kind of like a failing grade, just not the right letter, Catherine thought with a smile as she watched the soldiers storm to a table and sit. They took their helmets off and set them on the table. The whole time, Catherine had been taking photos, both with her phone and with her glasses, which she had computerized long ago.

One of them, a woman, had short brown hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. She looked alarmingly strong, a rifle on her back. The other two were guys; one of them had green eyes, blonde hair and was short, the other was tall, muscular, and dark-skinned, eyed and haired. Certainly threatening, but who....

She noticed the T again and did a double-take. Wait, T? Catherine thought, connecting the dots in her head. I've heard of Thorn, before, but I didn't pay much attention to them. They're a terrorist group that has a headquarters in both Venice and. . . Rialto.

She found herself listening to the three soldiers as her waitress came around with her coffee. Taking it, Catherine nodded a brief thanks and had a sip, listening to the soldiers. She noticed with a pang that the woman was glancing at her.

Catherine gulped as she heard English escape the woman soldier's lips. "She certainly looks sketchy," she was saying to the two guys beside her. "Think she'll be a problem?"