;; deadly heart

Levi is fussing with his tie when Klara knocks. He strides to the door and opens it with a little smile that widens when he sees her. “I thought we were past decency, darling,” he teases and motions for Klara to step in, greeting her with a careful hug. “You look lovely, as always.” He pauses. “What’s it like out there?”

@klaraxblom​

“it’s been a long time coming, ey, love?” she smiles, “goodness me those heels are going to be killing you by the end of the day. you want to sit down?” 

“stop fidgeting you look absolutely perfect i promise you that” klara said giving mort the biggest smile. no point in hiding her excitement for today. “you’re gonna knock levi off his feet i promise you that.”

“noah!” a smile spread across the brunette’s face as she saw the familiar man across the way. her voice filled with glee seeing him standing there. mort clearly had gotten to work rather quickly for him. running over towards him, or really more like waddling with her stomach, she waved. “i’m glad i’m not the only one who got here early.” she said as she approached.

seventh months pregnant certainly made walking slower, much much slower. climbing stairs was even more difficult but klara was determined to make it to the top and by herself. she wanted to see one of the grooms before the big day started. finally getting to the top, she took in several deep breaths before walking over towards the door she’d been directed to. excitement flooded her as she knocked on the door.  she wanted to fling it open and run to him but, she let herself have some restraint.“levi? are you decent? or well decent enough?”

stone chuckles. she’s a smart girl, not smart enough, but still she knows the routine - the dance. but she wanted to jump to the end, she thought she could snub him and be curt. but the dance wasn’t over yet. from inside his waistcoat pocket he pulls a small knife, the freshly sharpened metal glinting in the light. he flips it casually, feeling the perfectly balanced weight in his hand. “i work for miss clare. pretty much everyone here does. and everyone in mi6 and the cia. she runs…the world. and i am very very lucky because she gave me permission to do … whatever i want with you.” 

“and you’re not going anywhere just yet,” she says, looking down at his watch, “we have a flight to catch in an hour. i promise marion that i wouldn’t make you bleed to much. after all, the seats on the jet are imported leather. but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. after all, you don’t need your molars and with you gagged the bleeding won’t be a problem. you can just choke on it.”

he’s speaking like he’s running through the plans for a backyard barbecue not a torture session. there’s a smile creeping onto his expression, lopsided and unhinged: filled with a deep, sickening desire. he’s waited for this for a very long time.  “actually, klara, you’re going to sit down, shut up, and let me tie your hands.” 

“if you so much as squirm that cute blonde miss clare has in her possession won’t go home to her kids. hell, i’ll turn them into orphans if i have to. do i make myself clear, sister?” 

if stone thought a small knife was going to be enough to get her to comply then clearly her father had not taught him well enough. the cool touch of metal against her skin was a good reminder that her own knife was concelled away and was ready to use when she needed it. she had no plans of taking it out yet, let him think he had the upper hand for a few minutes. he could slip up and then it would be her chance. "well how kind of miss clare to give you such permission then. you wait for all her commands then? like a dog. thought the rule my father taught us was to always work for yourself."

there was something about his threat that made the hair on the back of her neck stand. it was the tone of his voice, or maybe how he said it. it felt all too familiar to her. in the cursed words he threw at her she could hear her father's tone in it all. so calm and direct. almost casual sounding but there was that edge in there. and edge that would cut you the moment you underestimated it.

the assassin was ready to say something else when another threat left the man's lips. lena. they had lena. if they had her then they could have some of the others. yet, this whole thing could be bluff to call against her. there was that chance that lena was safe downstairs at the party, unaware of what was happening to her sister just above her head. but he knew of her children. lena had done everything possible to keep them safe which meant if they knew about them then there was true danger here.

there was no way to tell 100% if he was telling the truth, but for lena she couldn't take the risk. klara had promised her she would do everything in her power to make sure they were safe. and if that meant facing this maniac alone then she would do that.

"i am no sister of yours." she hissed at him.

the part of her brain that screamed at her to think of her own self-preservation was silenced as she took her first step towards the chair. then another and another. like a march to gallows. maybe to her doom. but if that step meant even the smallest amount of safety for her team she was going to take it.

APRIL 1967. PARIS. - @klaraxblom​

She didn’t like how the cafes faced the street. Something about that made her back feel exposed. Perhaps if she was meeting someone form the other side it would be helpful. But now she would have preferred to have been face to face with her ally, them watching her back, her watching their’s. She pretended to sip her coffee, hoping Klara would arrive soon so she could actually begin her drink without feeling rude. By the time the young woman arrived Lena’s coffee would be cold and she knew that there was no way she’d get the waiter’s attention again. 

“i knew him well, and before you even existed. thought of him like a father actually, and then he had to go and create you: his special pet project. i guess i wasn’t the prodigal son after all,” he sighs with mock wist, “i’m agent ajax, former assassin, former mi6. i would say my repuation proceeds me but my employers did diligent work to erase that reputation.” 

he stepped closer to her, taking another drag from his cigarette as he eyed her up and down. she was being reserved, waiting for his move. and he was doing the same, they knew better than to lunge and expose themselves to danger. but he was not a patient man and he was running under specific and time sensitive instructions, at her final words he chuckled, for someone so well-trained she was still naive, “you’re friends are being taken care of by my friends. i can assure you rescue is not on the way. what is the phrase? divide on conquer?now you have a choice: come with me willingly or struggle. either way you’re ending up in my car, but i think you’d prefer not to be int he trunk.we have a long ride ahead.” 

klara was surprised how much information he was willing to give up to her. which meant he was not planning on her getting back to her team back downstairs to relay the information. she did her best to keep her face neutral as the information hit her. bu mention of her father did cause some emotions to cross her face. he knew her father, he was trained under him. this was not good. “doubt you’d be telling who the fuck you’re working for”

he expects her to be on her guard and be equipped with nothing short of a knife. if she had a gun she could only shoot him once in this small room before he got to her, and unless it was the perfect shot it wouldn’t be enough to take him down. the only thing he worries about is the window. she’d have to break the glass and fall two stories, but and exit was an exit. he kept himself close to it, barring the glass with his body.  

“i’d say you knew him better than i but that may not be the case. at the very least you knew him more recently than i,” he reasoned, shrugging casually, “ah klara, what an empty and vague threat. you’re better than that. and i just want to have a little chat. i want to know who all your friends are and why exactly they decided to torch the files room. sounds like you’ve fallen in with a crowd of rebel anarchists … or at least that’s the spin the official report will take.” 

his words gave her some pause. “you knew my father i take it then. i certainly knew more sides to him than most.” her eyes searched his face, trying to remember him from the past. had he ever been around, had her father introduced them. maybe he looked familiar but she couldn’t say for sure. “who are you really?”

he steps out into the light, always a man for a dramatic reveal, he revels in the power of ambiguity and then the greater power of fear. she should know who he is if she’s been paying any attention. and he half-respects her for trailing him so well. he would have felt threatened if it weren’t for the fact that she was in his trap. he’dread her file so he knew her skills, but if she made a move and was successful in taking him down she’d still have to escape the building. and he had plenty of friends around that would notice his absence soon. maybe she had some of her friends here too…

“oh habits die hard,” he breathed, taking a drag form his cigarette, “unfortunately, they also happen to be quite deadly. but you know that well enough, ms. blom. so did your father.” 

as the man finally stepped into the light klara knew she was dealing with the same man that lena saw. not only did he fit the description to a tee but there was something else about it, something that felt familiar. maybe it just was one assassin sniffing out another. but he was the one who played this right as he lead her right into his trap. klara could hear her father screaming at her in her ears. she had let her guard down, she was getting too soft, too curious. but she would have time to yell at herself later, right now she needed to focus on the problem at hand.

@klaraxblom

He spends a lot of his time waiting in the dark corners of rooms. He is used to the darkness now, and likes the way it swallows him and makes him one with the walls. He admires the structure of oblique absence. He pushes themselves off the wall that he’s been leaning on, and lights a cigarette, the motion too quick to reveal his face. And now only the red embers glowing at the end are perceptible in the dark. But the moonlight form the window illuminates his legs, the light glinting off his new brogues. 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the proverbial: curiosity killed the cat,” he muses, a soft chuckle curling at the end of his sentence. 

panic started to set in as the room plunged further into darkness with the door closing behind her. klara’s heart raced as the realization of her mistake sunk in. but soon after the panic dissipated and her training kicked in. what she knew then. she was locked in a small room with one window. possible escapes out the window if possible and the door if she could get it open. something that didn’t make too much noise. did anyone from the team know she was here? unlikely. she had only told them she was looking around not exploring upstairs. what did she have? a small knife strapped to her upper leg. her mind continued to go through her checklist as she heard the barely audible sound of movement. the assassin swung her head around only to catch the final glimpse of a match going out. a man was also here in this room.

@klaraxblom​

“Do you need a hand up?” she asked, “Mort nearly yanked my arm out of it’s socket the other day but I think it’s all healed up now.” 

@codacodebreaker​

         the  knock  on  the  door  echoes  hesitance  inside  his  room,  bringing  with  it  a  sense  of  trepidation.  a  mission  gone  just  a  tad  sideways,  henry  can  only  guess  as  to  who’s  knocking  before  the  voice  comes,  quiet.  of  all  the  people  to  knock  at  his  door,  klara  is  somehow  not  who  he  expected  ( thinks  perhaps  mortimer  might  come  to  berate  him  on  levi’s  behalf ;  which  henry  doesn’t  feel  is  entirely  undeserved,  at  this  point,  after  days  of  reflection ).  the  ache  of  his  calf,  the  sting  of  taut  skin  threatening  to  loosen  tight  stitches  each  time  he  moves  serves  as  a  reminder  of  that.  perhaps  she’s  come  like  a  wraith  to  remind  him  of  his  failings.  he  knows  his  mother  would  think  so ;  after  all,  rash  decisions  made  for  the  fear  of  putting  a  loved  one  in  danger  will  ultimately  always  be  his  downfall.

         ❛  the  door  is  unlocked,  ❜    he  calls  –––  a  temporary  habit  that  he  hated,  but  undoubtedly  the  easiest  way  for  charlie  to  check  in  on  him  as  he’s  healing.

opening up the hotel door, the assassin stepping inside. letting it close behind her, her footsteps were quiet as she made her way over towards where he was. he certainly didn't look his best but she had seen him far worse. that didn't mean it still wasn't hard seeing her friends like this. "how...how are you feeling?" she asked

Levi frowns but he nods. “All right,” he says. The last thing he wants to do is get into personal issues, but he has to keep a tight ship and if there’s any sort of tension he needs it gone before it’s started. He has no choice but to take Klara’s word for it—and he does believe her, he does—but he can’t help but wonder what had been going on in the first place.

“Sure,” he says, relaxing a bit. “Some water would be lovely.”

Well might be overstating it, Mortimer thought. But he didn’t die, so, that counted as a job done, at least.

“I’m still typing up the last of what we learned, but I’ve gotten through the agent files that we found.” And since he hasn’t let those leave his sight for fear of having them stolen, he pulls the type-written copies from his jacket, and hands them to Klara. “It seems we were being monitored, which I’m very much not delighted by.”

“you know you might be our best tool at this party.” klara said quietly as she took a sip from her drink, non-alcoholic of course. “people don’t know your face. you might be able to get close to some people, if you’re up for it.”

“beauty is pain. so if you think you can stand the heat of hair curlers and the pinch of eyelash curlers…there’s a whole lot of curling that goes on,” she said with a laugh, “perhaps that’ll be my next disguise: someone who is up to date with all the trends. i really fell off the wagon when i had kids.” 

“i’m worried about him. i’m worried about the kids. i’m worried about the team. every moment i let myself rest the worry comes flooding in. it was so much easier to be a spy back when i had no one close to me to care about. my family was so far away at that time but somehow it’s even worse with everyone right by my side,” she sighed, “it’s true we’re all looking out for each other. but there’s a chance that something will slip past all of us.” 

“you did not fall off the wagon. you are wonderfully classic and i love that about you.” she smiled. if klara looked half as good as lena did after raising two kids she would be happy enough.