LOUIS🗡

Wednesday, 8:41am

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MUCH LIKE ANY plan I've encountered on this Hell-of-a journey, I like to do things in steps.

Normally there's a time limit, where I countdown the seconds towards impertinent doom, but surprisingly I seem to have enough time to go free-reign on this. It makes it easier, I suppose, but I do still have to keep track of the order of things.

So, let's begin with Step One:

Get Into The Building.

What building? You may ask. I'm talking about my (ex) second-home, my (ex) employment, and the (ex) building that had a pavement littered with the memory of snogging someone I loved for a decent while. I tried not to think about the latter as I lingered by the building, staring up at the glass structure of the S.I.S.

But here's the issue.

I know William Franklyn-Traitor is probably dancing around inside, and while he's the person I need to see, getting to him is the difficult part. I'm a framed criminal, remember? I can't fake my ID and stride in like anyone else, because everyone knows who I am and what I look like.

Maybe being a 'Miracle-Rookie' wasn't the best thing considering my situation.

However, I knew the entire building like the back of my hand, and Ash and I didn't (questionably) scrounge up a plan for me to get nervous and give up. I knew what I had to do, and that was the wonderful task of...

Flirtation.

Remember that woman I told you about at the very beginning? Linda? Who worked in IT? Yeah, she fancied me to a very obsessive extent, so I'm going to have to use that to my advantage to get inside. Is it a terrible thing to do? Yes, but it's necessary—there's no other way in.

And I don't have to worry about flirting with other women, because the one woman I want doesn't want me.

Amazing!

Sarcasm, again.

I knew where Linda's office was, because she'd constantly invited me down to talk to her almost on the regular (which I politely declined), so all I had to do was circle to the back of the Headquarters and find the window her office sat behind.

I recognized that flaming red hair even through the tinted windows.

She was sitting at her desk, eyes trained on her computer screen, where she was invested in a game of solitaire. I wondered if this was her lunch break, even though it was far too early, or if she just dozed off on the job.

Nevertheless, I knocked on the glass, suppressing my amusement when she screamed and fell out of her chair.

Heh.

"Linda," I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my trousers, "miss me, darling?"

I couldn't tell whether the pale expression on her face was in fear or utter astonishment, because her eyes were wide open and her mouth was agape. Using the desk to help her stand, she held up her hands, shaking her head and motioning for me to stay exactly where I was.

I flashed her a grin, and waited.

Her short figure came running round the corner and into the alley nearly five minutes later. But I'd have to hand it to her, she was no small-minded woman. As she stalked towards me, I took noticed of the limp in her step (showing she had some sort of weapon tucked in the seam of her skirt) but the wistful expression in her eyes (showing that she did not tell anyone I was here, because she still held me in high regard no matter how dangerous I was supposed to be).

At least she trusted me.

Unlike someone.

"Agent Partridge," she gasped, coming to a stop, "I—what, what are you doing here?"

I ignored the question, taking a step closer, so I was just inches away from her cute, round face. You see, Linda wasn't unattractive, but I just wasn't attracted to her. I liked stubborn women who caused chaos and destruction. Linda was a good girl, which meant she wasn't for me.

"Great question," I smiled, letting false-desire flicker in my eyes, "I just want to talk to you."

Her face flushed a deep shade of red. "A-aren't you...but..."

"Use your words, darling."

"You betrayed the institution," she choked out, "there's a price on your head for helping that criminal escape."

"And?"

She squirmed under my steely gaze. "And, I—you shouldn't be here, Agent Partridge."

I smirked. "Are you saying you want to turn me in?"

"Uh, well, I..."

"Cute," I muttered under my breath, reaching my arm around her waist, "but you wouldn't do that to me now, would you Linda?"

She looked like she'd faint when she noticed my arm circle around her petite frame, but I was just using that as an opportunity to snatch the weapon she carried into my possession. She was right to keep a form of defense with her, she was just wrong in letting me manipulate her into thinking I had good intentions.

A small pistol was now clutched in my hand, and I gave it a satisfied nod, before tucking it into my own back pocket.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to harm you," I said sweetly, "I just need to ask a favor of you."

This all felt so wrong.

I held no commitment to the uncommitted, yet I felt like I was betraying Ash just by talking to someone else. This was part of the plan, but I didn't plan for this to happen. I hoped that moment a few days ago would have gone differently.

I hoped she'd say something else.

I hoped she'd feel something else.

But now I'm trying to flirt my way into getting what I want, while hiding behind a mask that shielded my broken heart. But that wasn't the worst of it. It wasn't her intention to hurt me this way—she just couldn't understand. And that meant she couldn't fix it.

But I'm fine.

Love's nothing but a feeling, and my feelings don't control me.

"I need to schedule a meeting with Franklyn-Miller," I said, tilting my head, "it'll only take a few minutes."

Linda nodded her head, but I could sense the confusion written along her lips. No, not lips, not—Hell—stop thinking about lips, you fool. Every time I so much as think of that word, I get this vivid flashback of kissing someone, and all it does is break me more. I get no satisfaction from that memory, I only get reminded that it's something I will never have.

I'm letting myself get distracted.

She isn't even here, and I have another woman in front of me.

"I don't know if I can do that," Linda squeaked out, "Agent Miller is a very busy man now-a-days, since he took over your job when you left."

I pursed my lips at that. "Did he?"

"It was all very sudden."

"I'm sure it was," I said, "but if you can't get a meeting, the least you could do is help me get into the building, hm?"

Linda's mouth gaped open slightly, and she glanced away. Her face was about as red as the Double-Deckers on Oxford Street. It wasn't red like fire, though, not even the sparks of a yellow lighter being tossed in the sand. It wasn't red like the anger of fury in someone's eyes, and it wasn't red like the lips that let insults and scorn pass through them like a fountain.

She just wasn't her.

No one was.

But I'm only playing a part, remember, and that means I have to be who I once was. An arrogant man with no flaws, who flirted with women, and married his job. It used to be easy, but that was before I was broken. Now I'm just hanging on by a thread and hoping to sew a tattered seam of my soul.

"I can get you in," she nodded, bobbing her hair, "but that's all I can do, Agent Partridge."

I smiled. "Wonderful."

"Wait here."

So, for the second time, I waited till she wandered out of sight, reappearing back in her office five minutes later. She struggled to unclasp the window lock, but she managed to figure it out, and soon I was climbing into the building as swiftly as I could.

Hopping onto my feet, I dusted off my suit, clearing my throat before I prepared to leave. But before I took a step, I paused. I felt bad for using Linda. I knew she was enamored with me—to a point where she'd help me even while I was supposed to be a 'criminal'—so I circled back, taking her hand and tugging her closer to me.

I kissed her on the cheek, trying not to think about how—

"I've always liked you, Ash."

Linda scrunched up her nose. "Who's Ash?"

Oh.

Damn, I let my mouth slip. I just couldn't think about kissing anyone else, because it just felt so wrong. I couldn't tell if this was toxic or loyal. Or just foolish. Nevertheless, I screwed up, and I needed to fix this before the woman in front of me became suspicious.

"Ash is a term of endearment," I said quickly, "means something I hold in the highest respect."

She blushed at that. "Really?"

"Really."

"Well you have a lot of 'Ash' then," she said.

I laughed weakly at that. "Unfortunately, no, but thank you, Linda."

Nodding my head politely at her, I spun on my heels, heading out of her quaint office and back into the building I knew so well. Step One, Get Into The Building, was over, and that led me to Step Two:

Kill The Traitor.

No, sorry, that's the wrong one.

I meant: Find William.

Since Linda mentioned that he 'took over' my job, I assumed he stayed in the same office we used to share. However, he had the whole space to himself, and he probably knew I'd be back to see him, so he would have security waiting outside the door.

All I had to do was play it cool and look like I know what I'm doing.

Keeping my head down, I made my way to the third floor, quickening my pace as I walked. It felt like going back in time as I walked through the white halls, the grey skies shining through the glass windows around me. London weather had a habit of matching my moods—dark and bleak for a worried man. Perhaps the sun will shine again, but it doesn't seem to be the case anytime soon.

As I paced down the hallway I used to know, I spotted a guard lingering by the door of the office.

Well, this would be easy.

Clearing my throat, I passed them by like I felt no threat to their presence, giving them a nod as I stopped in front of my old room. They turned their head to look at me, I turned my head to look at them, and then I shrugged.

"Meeting with the man," I said bluntly, "let's see how it goes."

The guard just nodded their head and turned away.

With that awkward interaction out of the way, I placed my hand on the handle of the door, pushing it open and walking into the room. I made sure to shut it swiftly behind me.

"Hello, old chap," I said curtly, crossing my arms against my chest, "doing well, are we?"

William Franklyn-Miller was sitting at his desk, feet propped up onto the table, and a pen tucked neatly behind his ear. He was wearing his pinstripe suit, a nod to our old days, but decided to accompany it with a navy tie. He looked just as smug as he did when I saw him last.

Well, 'smug' until he realized I was standing in the room.

"Partridge," he spat out, springing out of his chair, "how did you get in?"

I shrugged. "Great question."

"You've got some nerve coming back here."

"Maybe, but what are you going to do about it?" I smirked spitefully, "make me stare at a mirror and think about my life?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Your mockery is a waste of time."

I ignored that statement, shoving my hands in my pockets and turning to look at the mirror instead. Unlike the rest of the modified room—changed to accompany only one man, instead of two—the mirror still stood in it's dusty little corner. It was quite off-putting to realize this whole time a double-agent was mocking my emotions.

"Oh, would you look at that," I said, looking at his reflection instead of my own, "I see a traitor, a liar, and a coward!"

That joke (which really wasn't a joke) didn't amuse the man.

"Why are you here?" He frowned, "you know I'll have no choice but to kill you."

I frowned.

"I thought you wanted to kill Ash," I said, "moving on to better things, hm?"

"I don't think your friend would be happy to hear you said that."

"She's not my friend."

"Had a falling out?"

"Well, more like a 'falling into' something, but that's none of your business," I shrugged, placing my hands on the surface of his wooden desk, "I'm here to threaten you, to put it plainly."

William scoffed. "You're in my territory, Partridge, you can't threaten me."

"Don't pretend like you've ever beaten me in a fight, Miller."

"Who says I'll fight?"

"Who says you won't?"

"Oh, you've always been too arrogant for your own good," he said, "did you really think I'd just let you run wild out there without proper defense?"

I paused. "Yes, actually."

Ignoring that remark, William pursed his lips together, reaching his hand under the desk for a split second. I didn't have to be an expert to know he pressed a silent-buzzer. It was typically used for banks, when someone tried to rob them, but apparently he upped his security once he took over my job.

"I won't be doing the fighting," he said curtly, "my bodyguard can do that for me."

I smirked. "You mean the one who just let me walk in?"

William flinched. "He did what?"

"Oh, seriously Miller, how do you think I got in?"

As if on cue, the door was pushed open, and the guard from the hallway strode in. I assume they got the silent-buzzer memo. They were dressed in the standard-issue SIS defense uniform, with all black shield-guards and a rifle in their hands. It looked hot and stuffy in that outfit, especially with the metal helmet they wore.

William gave the guard a distasteful look (probably because they let me walk right through) but turned back to me.

"You'll die, Partridge," he said, "and you won't be able to save the city you love."

I furrowed my brow. "Save it from what?"

"The bomb," he said, "but I'm guessing you already knew that, because why else would you be here?"

"Well, I don't know everything."

"Of course you wouldn't know everything, you're hardly as smart as you think you are," the man spat out, "if you were, you would have noticed that today is the day where members of Parliament gather to discuss the passing of a new law."

What?

Well, in my defense, I spent the weekend in Barbados, with no cellphone or technology, so I'm not entirely 'up-to-date' with England's news. Nevertheless, it's pretty clear what's happening.

"Let me guess," I rambled, rolling my eyes, "you bomb Parliament while all the government officials are inside, blame it on the S.I.S, take over the city with your little group of Embers, and become the new self-initiated royalty because the city has no defense?"

Child's play.

"Yes, actually," William stammered in surprise, "how did you—"

"That's basically the plot of every half-decent thriller," I said, "but at least now I know the plan."

"It won't help you, Partridge, you won't make it out of here alive."

"Oh, dear me."

"Any last words?"

I nodded tilting my head. "Is a cucumber a fruit?"

"Oh, for God's sake," William frowned, waving his hand, "shoot him, please."

The bodyguard stood in the corner of the room, frozen still, as if they couldn't hear through that giant helmet of theirs. William noticed, pursing his lips in annoyance.

"I gave you an order, 108, are you listening?" He snapped.

When they didn't respond, the man took a step forward to approach the guard, but stopped in his tracks almost immediately. As if on cue, the soldier lifted the gun in their hands, cocking it into lock, and holding it up towards their target.

Pointed straight at William.

"What's going on?" The man hissed, "don't shoot me, shoot him you fool!"

All I did was laugh.

I laughed at the confused expression on Will's face, and at the way he flinched under the trigger of the gun. I laughed at the way he ran behind his desk for cover when the guard reached their hand towards their helmet and pulled it off.

And I laughed when I saw a familiar face appear into the room, previously disguised behind a metal armor mask.

Ash.

This was the plan all along. Since she still had the Intel identity from the last time she snuck into the building, she didn't need to worry. So while I was finding another way in, she was taking down a security officer and stealing their uniform (hence the reason why I simply walked right in—it was her under the mask the whole time).

And it all led to this moment, where we had all the information we needed to know. All we had to do was make sure their scheme never happened.

But Ash seemed so calm and sure as she stared William down from across the room. One might not have known the Embers were planning on tearing down the government, because she seemed so contemptuous and unpanicked. I suppose I've always admired that about her.

But she smirked. "Miss me, baby?"