The Final Countdown

10

He watched her as she moved through the crowd. She had a smile on her face as she mixed and mingled with the rest of the party goers. He never had trouble finding her, to him; she always stood out no matter how hard she tried to blend in, his eyes always found her. He raised his glass to his lips as she continued to move. To everyone else she appeared to be a social butterfly but as a trained individual he saw her clever tactic of moving ever so slightly to the hidden passage way that would lead to his hideaway office. He watched as she slipped past the door and sighed before lifting the decanter to top off his glass of scotch.

This drink may or may not be his last.

9

She sighed as she slithered away from the festivities and into the silent corridor. No guards, no traps, just a little light and a stairway that would lead her to the end of her job. She pulled her hair up into a bun, marveling briefly at how beautiful her dress reflected the light in the corridor but the primary reason for her dress choice and what the dress concealed drove any frivolous emotion. She wasn't the one for glitz but given the occasion, she donned the dress to fit in. She took a steady breath before ascending the stairs. There was no turning back from this now; after all, this was all she knew. She was born and bred to perform these jobs and she could not mess it up, especially when she had felt two pairs on her instead of one.

Both her predator and her prey were here tonight.

8

He puffed out a cloud of smoke as his eyes trailed to the second hideaway office on the opposite wall. The tinted black one way glass offered no suggestion of who was inside, not that he needed it, he knew it was the person who thirsted for his blood since he crossed the lines. He brought the cigar to his lips and drew in some of the foul smoke. Since that faithful day a year ago, he pondered how his enemy would achieve his revenge. He got his answer a week later as a girl showed up at the club's door enquiring about the vacant bartender position. His underboss and consigliere had handled the interview and background checks which came back clean. In keeping with protocol he arranged a meeting, a month after she began working to assess her himself and right off the bat he could see the emotions and thoughts she hid beneath her happy façade. He watched her every night after that, sorting façade from truth and he caught on to her game. He exhaled slowly as his eyes focused on the hideaway office again.

Tonight the game ends.

7

As she ascended the stairs quietly in her heels, she reflected on the last year which she spent undercover. It was the longest time she had ever spent undercover, usually she would get the job done in a couple of months but her boss kept her there in the enemy's ranks. She stopped and closed her eyes to steady herself. Were they...was he really the enemy? From the moment they met she knew she could not hide anything from him. His eyes seemed to pierce straight through her cover. She decided to keep up her façade, if she got caught; she was caught. But the year passed without incident and surprisingly she settled down, she actually enjoyed working at the club and she even made friends. What? It would be suspicious if she spent the year without talking to some fellow employees. She also learned the ways of the organisation that operated at the club and she could not help comparing it to the one she belonged to. They were more of a family; he treated everyone pleasantly, as if they were related by blood.