MarkiSPYer

Chapter Twenty: A Date With...?

The moment the video had ended, the YouTuber frantically slipped his leather holster back on and covered it with his navy blue jacket. For a second there he actually thought he'd be out of those sweaty and dirty clothes and in a more comfortable, loose tighty-whities and pajamas. But no, now he's wearing them again, and his troubles were definitely far from over.

It was past nine in the evening when he checked his watch, seeing through his glass window that the sun was slowly sinking beneath the horizon and the bright moon now taking its place in the sky. His room was at least five stories from the ground, but he could see the bright colorful flashing lights of the pier in the distance, just south of the city.

With only less than an hour left to get to the pier, Mark dashed outside, his pink mustache gun in its holster and five extra rounds kept in the extra pockets of the leather strap. He was so stressed out that he did not bother to shut the door to his room.

Mark felt helpless, no one could save him, he could not tell anyone about it. He was caught in a predicament, both outcomes would either have his girlfriend or the human race dying. His rapid beating heart pounded through his chest, he felt like any time he would collapse and have a severe breakdown.

"Bumbum!" He heard Felix's voice behind him. And he still shuddered at his name.

Mark bit his lip and turned around, "Yes, K?" He croaked, doing his best not to look and sound agitated.

"Going somewhere?" Felix walked up to him, his eyes scanning him from head to toe noticing his outfit.

"Uh... I was gonna go jogging around the block, heh." The agent shrugged.

"Oh, night jogging, I see." K nodded, his hand digging in his pocket and taking out the TBT figure, "Would you do me a favor and take this Bob and Wade? I know I should've brought it to them but, y'know, Marzia needs me home by ten."

"Okay." He held the figure in one hand, fingers wrapped around them like they were tentacles.

"Thanks, buddy." Felix smirked, walking past him and going down the hall that turned left to the main staircase, "Go get a decent sleep and we resume the mission tomorrow." He said, his voice gradually growing distant.

"I will." Mark said with a smile.

Mark looked down at the box in his hand, his thoughts still in a jumble of emotions. I have the ruby in my hand, what do I do now?

However, realizing he had no time to spare, he sprung into action, stuffing the figure in his pocket and going through the dimly lit corridor that had a small balcony to his left, and room to his right.

In his peripheral vision, there was a man standing in the balcony.

"Mark?" Tyler's deep voice called for him.

He stopped dead in his tracks, but he turned to face Tyler who had just stepped inside.

"T-Tyler, what are you doing out here?" Mark cleared his throat.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing, Mark." He said flatly.

"I-I'm going jogging." He lied.

"Alright, just watch your back, man."

"I will." Mark waved him goodbye.

He burst out of the front door. "Taxi!" Mark yelled, his hand raised up as a white taxi with a distinct baby blue painted hood and registration markings pulled up to the road beside him. The driver rolled down his window, tipping his hat as a greeting.

"Where to, sir?" He asked politely, most of his facial features obscured by the darkness of the night.

Mark practically yanked the door open and hopped inside, "To Brighton Pier, please."