Talon hit ‘send’ on the last message, shoving his phone into his hip pouch as he rounded the corner as quickly as he could. Fuck fuck fuck, he hated working in Demacia or even near Demacia. His memories of the one and only time he’d been captured on a mission still gave him nightmares, even though it had been years and that was enough to keep Talon from accepting assassination missions in Demacia. Infiltration and retrieval missions were different though. They were supposed to be safer.
What a fucking joke. Nothing was safe in Demacia. They’d punish you as stringently for infiltration as for assassination. Both of them put the safety of Demacia at risk, after all. And the odds of Talon escaping Demacian captivity twice...
No. He had to get out now
He had a blue guard’s uniform stashed away along with a bottle of quick-acting black hair dye. All he had to do was shake his pursuers, get to his hideout, change clothes and hair color and then he’d ready to get out of Demacia entirely. His contact would be glamored so Talon had just sent her his appearance details; it’d be easier if she approached him out than the other way around when she might change her appearance several times in the half hour between him sending that text and meeting her.
In thirty minutes, as promised, Talon was standing at the fountain. He was dressed in the blue uniform of the guard, shoulders pulled back and his posture perfectly rigid. Bright blue eyes, thanks to a pair of contacts, swept the plaza as if he were watching for wrongdoing instead of watching for his partner in crime. The red rose in his lapel had been broken off from a garden, a spot of crimson against the Demacian blue of his jacket.
Where was she?! He’d said he wouldn’t wait for her but she was the one with the counterfeit pass-papers that’d take them out of the city.