Strange Aeons [Book 1]

4.Staccato

«I simply said that if Vopros controlled his need fer explosions, nobody would have noticed!» grumbled Banshee, sitting tight against Garaham office's door. Chico was sitting right beside her, on the floor while Vopros stood against the opposite wall, his busby well pressed on his head. Under it, the music box was still safely stored. Just to be sure they had the field factor under control, Banshee's pigeon was patrolling the ceiling, and Soballende was lurking in the shadows.

«Nobody would ever think it was us.» pointed out Chico. «Nobody knew we had a plan!»

«Not to mention that plan.» was Vopros's lapidary comment.

«And I would agree with ye, if exploding random stuff wasn't Vopros's world-famous signature! Everyone'll eventually make the connection and come after us!»

«Calm down now, esperamos el Jefe. We give him the music box, this ends, we're promoted, you're happy, we go back to drinking.» summarized Chico, with a monotone voice.

«Chief usually in office at seven.» Vopros said, slightly perplexed.

«Of course, the only day in his life he's late it's the day we have to share the greatest succ- woah! Check yer six!» she tensed, suddenly, when her familiar sent a distress message. Cooing.

Everyone turned to the direction and waited.

She blinked. Way too many times.

He was perfect.

He was walking along the corridor with the self-confidence of a king in his castle, every step of the armor as light as stepped on air. His fluffy blond hair was cut short but was softly swaying around his squared, manly face. A couple of the bluest eyes ever seen in a man were shining over full, soft lips, a straight perfect nose, and a handsomely cured short beard. But if his features were just as angelic as any Italian statue, the head wasn't the first thing someone noticed when he entered a room.

His body was.

He was at least six foot eight, with shoulders as broad as the doors he just passed to enter the corridor, and a writhing mass of muscles to match. He was a perfectly built colossus, with not an ounce of fat, and even with the Order's Enforcer Armor on, one could guess the definition and position of every muscle of his body. A blue scarf around his neck was hiding the Order's symbol that had to be engraved on his chest.

Beside him, to match, walked the most breath-taking girl. She was shorter, of course, and not a day over her seventeenth birthday, whereas the tall man had surely passed his mid-thirties, despite the undeniable care of himself. She was almost as perfectly proportioned, with an hourglass figure wrapped in a private catholic school uniform that looked straight out of a schoolboy's fantasy, and that everybody recognized being the uniform of one of the schools that were a front for the Boston Order Academy.

Long black hair descended along her back until her wasp-waist, as she passed between the two wings of Pollos in the corridor, glancing at them with dashing curiosity in her giant ice-blue eyes. Her features were delicate and feminine, and she even darted them a smile, before preceding the Enforcer along the corridor.

He seemed to ignore them altogether, passing through them as if the corridor was his private road to his destination and giving the enchanted masses an ulterior rejoicing moment when they could take a peek at his even-more perfect behind.

Even Banshee, who was quite famous for her lack of interest in men, felt the muscles of her neck moving on their own to follow his parade, her eyes sticking to the scrumptious pair of buttocks the tight pants under the greaves showed mercilessly.