Femme de vos cauchemars

“Did they beg again?” He asked, stealing a glance at the woman as she changed wardrobe for a short second before focusing back on the window, where the city lay, dark and grim with imaginary blood smeared all over the street tiles and stone walls. It had taken them months, of which he had to grow more than he thought he would have, but finally they would be able to end this nightmare. But what would happen at the end ? Would he wake up? Or would he forever remain in the lucid dream. 

Obsidian tresses cascaded over shoulders, softness obscured by dried blood invisible to the eye. “They always do,” she hummed, always pleased with herself in the aftermath. Sapphire irises wandered to the window, taking in the sight of silent mayhem. Quiet chaos. It was nearly time. The end. One final whisper. One final scream.

@morte-dolce

Clémence had stopped to greet Terrance before she’d made her way upstairs, knowing full well multiple people in the house would always be concerned no matter how many times she assured them she was fine. The assassin always made it back alive, after all. She had begun unzipping the matte black ballistic suit Astrid had crafted before she entered the room, an arm slipping from the fabric as she walked toward the closet. 

“Yeah, I don’t think any of us like that they broke through,” Astrid cut in, arms crossing. “Okay so maybe it isn’t one microphone. Maybe it’s all of them. Ricardo works in an office, there are probably computers everywhere.” At Maggie’s assertion, Astrid looked at Clémence to wait for the assurance that no one could find them here. 

Clémence simply listened, impassive expression never leaving her sapphire gaze. “Figure it out,” she instructed, chin lifting imperiously. “I’m going to go inform Avery to increase his security measures in case we have an issue.” The assassin gave a nod to Astrid and turned to leave.

“You can’t track where it’s from?” A silent look towards the two women who joined him before he focused back on Maggie, arms crossed. No message or any bugs they sent along?”

The lioness narrowed her gaze further in contemplation. “Echoed?” she inquired. “And it’s still going?” She paused for a moment. “Do you think it’s live?”

Finally stepping fully into the room, Clémence took her place to the left of Amando. “What about the microphones on their computers or phones? Could someone have hacked into them?”

“What’s the urgency?” Amando replied, not about to come down for any whim of a thing that seemed off, like he had received many times before by the other hackers. 

Astrid had the remnants of a bit of baguette in her hand as she rounded the corner, gaze narrowing. “This better be good,” she deadpanned, thoroughly unamused by virtually everything at the moment.

Clémence was entirely silent as she responded to an urgent call, her slim frame remaining in the shadow of the doorway as Amando and Astrid spoke. The demoness was always amused at how much like siblings the pair appeared. She remained silent, however, with a familiar impassive expression.

“I know just the ones. Did they contact us?”

“One requirement: Udinov is not to be involved.” Sure that would limit the pool of soldiers, but Clémence was a woman of her word. And she’d given Gabriel her word. “Contact was made,” she stated fatly. 

“I could most certainly use some good news.” Amando replied, kissing his wife on the cheek when he passed her towards his desk, tossing his jacket on a nearby chair. “Good… That’s good.” He pondered. A pen grasped between his fingers to strike down a two lines from a long list. “Most of those I visited were either dead, in hiding, or turned against me. I found one however, she works for the vice president. She can be our eyes and ears, but it’ll be risky. Now we just need an army than the few numbers we have otherwise we’re useless.”

“Politicians.” Clémence rolled her eyes, attention falling to her fingertips as she feigned boredom. “Everything is always risky,” she shrugged nonchalantly not looking up until Amando mentioned they’d need an army. An eyebrow raised as she shook her head. “Don’t offend me; we never need an army.”

007: Bring five soldiers, undercover. We’ll do the same.

Secured Call - Clemence

@morte-dolce

Contacts. Such a vague term for such a specific set of people. Clémence did not answer the question immediately and instead looked Amando over with a distinct satisfaction. “Rough day, Monsieur Lèmieux?” The assassin watched Amando carefully. “I have it on good authority Ricardo has lost quite a few of his trusted officials and guards. Security breakdown at its finest. Pity for him.”

Clémence allowed the silence a moment to linger, not pushing the girl as she came to terms with her particular predicament. Admittedly, Clémence had an idea of what had caused it, but there was a chance Magnolia had coped. Moved past it. It was doubtful, but entirely possible.