"The most painful love there is, is the love left unshown. A love that cannot be expressed, affection left unknown. The love that withholds touching, afraid of what it would say. The most painful thing about unexpressed love is that it never fades away."
Number Ten
Raskolnikoff had just come back from meeting Zametoff in the Crystal Palace when Atom made a disgusted noise at the backseat. Krad quickly set aside the book he was reading and raised the binoculars to the shuttered windows of the royal suite. The local hotel only had nine floors, making it easier for him to do reconnaissance from the ground.
"Yuck."
"What happened?" he asked distractedly. He noticed that there was movement behind one of the windows. The silhouette was very tall. Ivan perhaps? Did he notice someone was observing them?
"The woman," the boy explained with a sour face. "Her dirty thoughts are so loud. I mean, ugh. Are you sure that these people will help us? Are they worth all the trouble? They made me leave that candy shop so they better be."
Krad raised an arch brow at him. "For someone playing hero, you're rather choosy, kid."
"I'm not playing hero! I really am a hero, like X-men!"
He laughed at the stubborn expression Atom adorned. He raised a hand to mess his already unruly brown hair. "Yeah, yeah. Got it. Back to business, how many are they in there?"
"Five," Atom said in between bites. He was chewing his candy loudly to drown the noise that only he could hear. "Two women and three men. The one called Denna just left, so that’s down to four."
Krad tucked in the package he prepared under his jacket. "Is the Master with them?"
Atom licked the red and violet colors off his fingers before opening a new bag of Skittles. "Yep. That man whose mind works as fast as you has to be him. He was your mentor, yes?"
"He is my father, in ways that run deeper than blood," Krad answered wistfully. It had been four long years since he last saw him, still, that didn't change the fact that Kreuz Creed was the one person Krad respected the most. Guilt struck him hard, but he had to do this. For Faye.
"Bro, chill. That's way too deep for me. Hello. Remember you're talking to a kid here." Atom made a funny face at him.
"Oh. Yeah. I nearly forgot," he answered sardonically. "How can a brat like you ever understand? You're way too dumb to catch up with me."
Atom leveled him with a glare that no ten year old kid could possibly pull off. "That's three more bags of Cheerios and three giant bowls of vanilla ice cream for me later."
Unfazed, he put on his black leather gloves on both hands and placed the earpiece on his right ear. "If I survive this, let's make it five. I'm planning to make you fat."
Instead of a boisterous protest, he received a sniveling whimper from the kid. The grin he wore faded. "Hey."
"Brother, are you sure you don't want me to come?" Atom held his arm in a tight leash. "If they see a kid, they might think twice before attacking you.”
"Don't worry about me kiddo. They won't kill me." Yeah, right. Ivan was more than enough match for him. How about an overly protective daddy and an equally protective though highly emotional lover? As if the news he carried wasn't dynamite waiting to explode by itself.
"But –”
"You're a hero right?" The boy nodded reluctantly, already aware of what he was about to say next. "Then, you should trust me, your partner. I've been to a lot of life and death scenarios. This is basically a stroll in the park."
He wasn't sure why he was explaining himself to Atom. Maybe, it was more of a pep talk to make himself believe he could pull this off. After all, he managed to survive from that cliff stunt he pulled – though that was an entirely different situation. Entering a room full of Creed agents seemed much more dangerous. He wasn't entirely convinced that he could make it out of that den of beasts alive, but hey, he could dream. He just wished he brought Rael with him, but he couldn't leave Faye by herself.
"But you're just my sidekick," Atom whined. "Sidekicks don’t get to fight the boss."
"Uh-huh. That's why you need to help me." Krad handed him a silver phone. "You will tell me what they're thinking. Warn me if I'm about to step on a landmine. You can do that much."
"But –”
"My life will depend on you. I trust you, Atom. Can you trust me in return?"
Atom looked like he was about to cry. He knew how deadly the playing field was. Krad was alone and UnGifted. He was the most vulnerable player among them. "Is she really that important? She doesn’t remember you. Are you really gonna risk your life for her?"
Krad didn't answer. He simply smiled before stepping out of the car they rented not an hour ago. There was really no need to voice it out. Atom could hear him all too clearly, and the sadness of it all made him hate Faye Summers all the more.
It was her tears that distracted him. The bullet should have never found its mark, but it did, and it was too late. His love was crying. He was dying – he couldn't dry those damn tears away.
"Why?" he asked softly. He looked like he had more to say, but held in it for her benefit.
"Goodbye, my love."
"Where did I go wrong?" the man whispered as thick blood trickled down his unshaved chin. His pale blue eyes slowly shut as he fell onto his knees, knocking down the figurine on top of the side table. His hands were red from touching the gaping wound on his muscular chest.
"You've been wrong from the very beginning, Robert," the outlandishly slender blond agent smiled sadly. She pressed the gun on his hand and inserted his forefinger onto the trigger.
"You are mine, Daryl. I will not let Luke have you."
"I am not yours," the blond spoke in an almost sad manner. "I am never yours. You've let your emotions rule you. That, is your worst mistake. I guess it's mine as well."
Hayden snorted when the actress posing as Agent Daryl Swan stooped down to kiss the man she just shot. Disgusted, she threw the bag of popcorns on her hands against the flat plasma TV of her hotel room. "This is bloody horrible!" she yelled with a very pronounce Southern accent. "How come these people never portray us right? Look, look! He was shot in the heart! The heart! He should be dead, not talking!"
"Ease up, sweet cheeks," the former Agent 02 commented with a thoughtful expression, his gloved hand picking at the tiny pieces of popcorn strewn near his feet. After collecting them on one hand, he tossed them effortlessly into the empty popcorn bag.
"It's unreal!" she whined. "And she's not wearing gloves. She didn't even wipe the gun clean of her fingerprints. The CIA or FBI or even the NYPD can track her. And her heels! Who wear heels while she's on the run? It’s ridiculous!"
Unlike her, ex-02 was watching the TV series with a bored gaze. "It's drama. What do you expect?"
"A little bit of common sense would do," she muttered to herself, knowing full well that the three men inside her suite would hear her with perfect clarity. "For someone coughing out blood, Robert sure doesn't appear to have problem breathing."
She heard a curse directed her way a few feet to her left. The former Agent 04 bit a sarcastic remark from his mighty throne AKA her computer desk. He was peeling away her Hello Kitty stickers with the tip of a ball pen. "Baa-san, baka."
Even though she was a multilingual person, Hayden could have let it slide if she wasn't in a bad mood. The problem was, she is in a bad mood. In addition to that, she understood the underlying message of those words. She heatedly glared at the tall Japanese dude who just popped her bubble. "I heard that, stud."
"Go to the police and file your complaints there."
"What. Is. Wrong. With. You. People!" she shrieked. "You barge into my room like you own the place when I am, let me repeat, I am on vacation! Is this all the thanks I'm getting?"
"Shut up," quipped the Japanese dude, his halfhearted and monotonous comeback causing Hayden's neck to grow cherry red.
"That's the spirit," ex-02 cheered.
"Goodness gracious! I haven't had any vacation in years! Can't you give this woman a little peace of mind? And don't you dare call me baa-san again, ever! I'm a young woman on the peak of her life!"
The blond freak snickered at her, finding her source of irritation amusing. Gives. She heard that among all the Equations, the former 02 and former 04 were the closest pair to have a good working relationship. Trust them to bully her in her own place.
"But you sound old," he added, tossing some of the popcorns into his own delectable mouth. For a moment, Hayden gawked. The former 02 was a very fine man and she hadn't bed a man in like, three weeks. What oh what she would give to have those sun-chapped lips on her skin. His large hands would fit snugly on her generous breasts...
As soon as those thoughts came, they zapped to nonexistence. This is an ex-Equation she's talking about here, not a boy toy she could strut around in the metro with a tight leash. His menacing blue-red eyes reminded her of the real identity of this superficially friendly Russian.
He used to be her partner in a mission in Greece several years ago. She could never forget how he slaughtered a two year old girl in front of her with an unwavering grin. Just the image was enough to give her nightmares.
The third man in the room spoke, his deep voice solemn and firm. "I apologize for the trouble, Agent 01. We need your helipad. We'll be gone as soon as our ride arrives."
Hayden immediately stood up and tightened the belt of her bathrobe in a weak attempt to look decent. She bowed to the older man with cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "No, no, of course you are welcome here, Master. I didn't mean my words to sound like I'm driving you away."
"No need to lie, child," the Master said, his tone offhanded, his thoughts clearly faraway. "Also, stop addressing me as Master. I am no longer the Master. For years, it has been Vladimir filling that position."
True. Of course she knew. But how else should she address the man that had been her Master from the very start, from the bottom of her heart? "What shall I call you then?"
"Just Kreuz is fine," he replied. "For these two, it's Ivan and Arashi."
"Kreuz," she repeated. It sounded weird and awkward on her lips. She then huffed as she faced the two distasteful riot makers. "And for those two, blacky and blondie would suffice. If they are no longer part of Creed, then I don't need to waste any mental space for them."
Yes, Blondie and Blacky fit them like a glove. Especially Blacky – it's a name befitting a stray dog.
Three sharp knocks interrupted her moment. Their heads snapped to the door as they took defensive stances. It was an unspoken rule ingrained on every cell of a person trained by Creed.
"Are we expecting visitors, 01?" Blondie asked, looking like a hungry predator about to pounce on its prey.
"No."
"How many?" Blacky pulled out a gun, his body perched on the edge of her chair. This time, the doorbell rung, yet the four people inside her lounge refused to move an inch.
Blondie stood up with the deadly grace of a cobra. "One."
"Open the door, 01," the Master ordered in a barely there voice. His calculating green eyes studied her room. "If he's hostile, do formation ADV or 6R. I will do the support. If it comes down to it, we can do first protocol, to be followed by P88, before capture. We have a sniper here as well. Try not to kill him, though. We need info. If he is a civilian, well, work your charm."
She hid a smile at his instructions. No one could perfectly work out a strategy as fast or as specific as Kreuz. Not even the current Master.
Hayden slightly loosened her robe and ran her fingers through her newly dyed red hair. Making sure she walked a normal human's pace, she padded barefooted towards the door.
She looked into the monitor at the wall. There was a young man in striped beach polo and a white undershirt who looked like he was about to go surfing any moment soon. She pressed the talk button.
"Good afternoon," she said pleasantly in a practiced British accent, "How can I help you?"
The young man looked at the camera with hooded eyes. Their color was as pretty as a clear summer sky, and she had the desire to lick her lips at a sudden naughty thought entering her mind. He looked almost as good as the former 02.
He spoke in a cool, unaffected manner. "I've been summoned by a prayer."
Hayden blinked. It was one of Creed's oldest codes in identifying allies when meeting in person, scrapped by the current Master roughly three years ago. Even the Light knew not to use this anymore.
Who was this man?
Judging that it's better to play his game, she led him on to fish more details. "Beta?"
"Omega," he answered without hesitation.
"Blue?"
"Pear mount."
"Who is this?"
"Hello to you too."
"What do you want?"
"There is something I need."
"What do you need?"
"Something the four of you want."
Red alert. Highly confidential. Civilian source. For the four of them.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. How did he know how many they are? Was he authentic?
"Identify yourself, agent," she said in a low voice, trying to gauge anything from his body language.
"Need not to know," he shot back without breaking his gaze. It was as if he could see her on the other side of the door, which was impossible, given that the intercom had only a one way camera.
She grinned. More than killing ugly men, she enjoyed playing cat. In a sultry voice, she laughed. "There, there. That is no way to treat me. Surely, you can do better than that Romeo."
She opened the door, but blocked it with her body. Her chest was in full view. Her Romeo, however, was unaffected.
"What are you doing?"
He was obviously trained, and trained well. He was the epitome of coldness, freezing, like a block of Arctic ice on the bitterest winter day. Hayden had to reevaluate him. His eyes were not the color of the sky; it was the color of ice reflecting the murky waters underneath its deathly sheet.
She shivered. She suddenly fell in love with those eyes. He had seen too many deaths, that much was apparent.
"Don't you know who I am?" she piped in sweetly.
He looked at her with disinterest. "I'm in no mood to play with you, Hayden Daley. Step aside. I need to talk to the Master."
In a blink, she had a knife pressed against his throat. No one but the Master knew her true name. The door was close behind him, and he was pressed against it. Her tone was soft as she licked her lips. "Who are you?"
Krad lifted his arms and if not for her Gift of speed, he would have broken her neck from the piano wires he had wrapped around her. Instinctively, she backed out a few paces, her knife held tightly in her palm.
"Since when did you –?"
"The moment you opened the door," he answered crisply. "If you value your life, you will get out of the way and let me talk to the Master."
"Are you an informant?"
He smirked. "Not really."
“What’s your purpose?”
“Need not to know.”
Hayden trailed behind him, readying her Gift just in case she misjudged the situation and her Romeo did something foolish or unthinkable. The piece of hot Tamale had a very nice ass-et, she had to admit. From her position, she was given a very nice view of it. She couldn't wait to get her hands on his stuff.
The moment they stepped inside her lounge, the tension in the air dissipated. Everyone relaxed, except for Blackie who looked like he saw the evil incarnate.
"Master," her Romeo bowed accordingly, his voice deferential for once. "Ex-agent Krad asking permission to speak."
Krad. So Romeo had a name after all.
The Master groaned quite audibly. Blondie grinned giddily at the sight of the newcomer. "Give him some slack. Just call him Kreuz. He preferred it that way."
Blacky rose from his seat, his gaze enough to scorch lichen off a rock. "Where is she? Why didn’t you come meet us three days ago?"
She? Hayden frowned. No one told her something was up. No wonder these people suddenly free loaded onto her place. "Am I missing something? What's happening?"
Former 02 had managed to creep behind her undetected and she flinched at his touch. He tugged her arm towards the door. "You did your part. Why don't you take a stroll outside, perhaps get some coffee or sandwich?"
Krad raised a hand to stop them from leaving. "Wait. Is she an Equation?"
"Of course, I am, sweetheart," she smiled seductively. "I'm Agent 01 to be exact. Does that mean anything to you?"
"Yes," he answered tonelessly. Then to the Russian, he told him, "She's staying."
Ex-02 didn't bulge. "This is personal business for the Mas- for Kreuz."
"Ivan, let her stay," Krad said in a tone that required no argument. She grinned. Who knew ex-02 could be bossed around? "We need the whole of Creed on this."
Wait. If Krad was superior to Blondie, then that imply he was…
Everyone looked at the Master for confirmation, even though he already made it crystal that he wasn't in the position to answer that. He wasn't even a part of Creed anymore!
"Kids nowadays are so stubborn," Kreuz breathed before giving each one of them a once over. "I will remind you for the last time, I, Arashi and Ivan here are civilians asking Creed for help as fellow Rare Kinds."
"Moot point," Krad spoke evenly. "This fight will change the whole history of your kind. Anyone with a Gift has no choice but to join for their own survival." He opened the package he was carrying and took out a manila folder from it. He laid the documents on the center table. "Inside data on the Light. Their key locations. The list of active and sleeper members. Their sponsors. Blue prints. Pictures. I got them all right here."
Hayden picked one set of papers, and true enough, it was a complete and detailed description of the layout of the Light's Canadian hideout.
Blondie whistled. He too was checking some of the documents. "Nice. Years’ worth of research."
Krad continued as if he wasn't interrupted. "With proper planning and quick execution, given the current manpower available to Creed, we can completely destroy them in less than six months."
“This is good –“
"Where is Faye?" the Master cut in, clearly not interested in the information that he brought. He sat painfully straight in his chair, his hands folded on his knees, his penetrating green eyes dark with muted anger. He repeated the question in a tone that demanded an answer. "Where is she, Krad?"
Krad didn’t dare close his eyes. He did not cower. He dared not breathe. With shaking fists, he told him the lie that was meant to protect his beloved’s life for eternity.
"She's dead.”
There was a second of complete silence before all hell broke loose.