𝟔 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
Sometimes you have an aversion to coffee, and sometimes you don't. It's been a while since the last task. And I hate to say it, but my vacation just got a whole lot better. With no one to order me around, the streets of Paris smell like heaven in a small cup.
Well, Paris was our first choice of honeymoon. We chose it when he was alive. Mr. Hunt must be buried in a mission right now. The morning sun kissed my shoulders. IMF is no longer on my tail. Wait, is that Ethan?
He gives a small nod, taps his watch. Three minutes. And then folds a napkin, tucks it under his arm, and casually leaves it on the table next to me, before walking into the crowd. I unfold the napkin, after grabbing it, as if I need to use it.
"The Archivist is in town. He has the watch. The 'Lucky Star' is requested in the foyer of the Opéra at 20:00. No sling required. — E."
Classic Ethan. And of course, as a spy, I would set it on fire. Well, there goes my vacation. When I do, however, finally find Mr. Hunt, it's an overwhelming feeling just seeing him. He's grown out his hair a bit.
I can't help but tease him. "Is this a new trend? Or am I missing something?"
He smirks a bit but eases me into the topic at hand. "It could be a trend if you wanted it to be. Layla and Rosie have already been briefed."
"And I'm guessing I am 'Lucky Star'? " I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I want to tell him I have feelings for him, but I have no idea how, so I swallow them down. "And this watch, what's special about it?"
"The Archivist is paranoid," he murmured, nodding to a man who is standing at the center of the room. "He won't use a digital transfer. The auction is 'physical-carry.' The highest bidder walks out with the watch. Our job is to make sure that 'Lucky Star' is the only one close enough to touch him when the lights dim for the final aria."
I smirked a little. How will I tell you, Ethann, that I, Lexi Miller, feel for you?
"You don't have to swallow anything down, Alexandria," he says, offering me his arm to take, which I do. "But right now, I need the Tiger. We can talk about 'trends' and... everything else....once we're on the high-speed rail to Brussels."
"Well then, let's enjoy the gala and keep an eye on our target," I reply.
"Countess," Ethan purrs–sending deep pleasure through me, stepping away from the guards. Reaching into his vest, he pulled it out–the Chronos Watch. He holds it by the gold chain, letting it swing–like a pendulum. "The bidding starts at the high C of the soprano's first aria. But for a 'Lucky Star,' perhaps I could be persuaded to skip the theatrics."
𝟏𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 • 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬
The lights in the Opera flicker violently, nothing close to the signal that a show is about to start. And the next thing I hear is, "Alexandria, move!"
Ethan's hand dropped from my waist. I shake myself off the stupor and move. There is no time. "Alexandria, use the EMP earrings! Now!" his voice chimes in my ear as soon as I am far.
I use the EMP earrings, pressing a button which is concealed within them. EMP earrings–they heat right up after one use, so they would be useless after. I slip inside, without a second look back.
"Alexandria, listen to me," his voice crackles into my earpiece, the moment I am out of his line of sight. "The EMP fried the local relays, but they'll have the backup comms up in ninety seconds. You need to get that watch before they sweep the dressing rooms. I'm cutting off the team from the balcony level, but I can't reach the Archivist in time."
"Got it," I say into my earpiece. "And Ethan, if we don't see each other then.... I.... I like you."
There I said it, and now to look for the watch. I find it well within the allocated timing, and slip it into somewhere they won't find.