Rogue agents 1: The prima ballerina (Completed)

Zarqa

*Sebastian*

The roar of the engines is a welcome counterpoint to the frantic thumping of my own heart. Adrenaline still vibrates beneath my skin, a prickly aftertaste of near-death.

I watch Karolina cling to Ryan, a tableau of relief and something… more. It’s endearing, even amidst the chaos of the Duckling’s cramped interior. Tommy’s already cracking jokes, his usual ebullient self, while Holly, ever efficient, straps herself into the co-pilot's seat, her movements precise and economical.

“So, where to now?” Holly’s voice cuts through the residual tension. A slight smile plays on her lips… a subtle, knowing curve that speaks volumes to me.

Amidst all the drama I noticed something, something I had not expected to see herr. The fleeting glimpse of the country of Zarqa’s sigil… a stylized falcon, wings spread in defiant flight… it seared itself into my memory. The symbol, insignificant to most, resonated deeply within me; a piece of a puzzle I hadn't even realised I was assembling until that moment.

“Zarqa,” I say, the name, a low rumble in my throat. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the only lead we have… I noticed some of those guys were adored with the royal sigil.”

A beat of silence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated only by the hum of the engines. Then Ryan speaks, his voice laced with a casualness that feels jarringly out of place.

“England,” he says, his words cutting through the tension like a shard of glass. “MI6. They’re good at this sort of thing, Right? We should go there.”

The suggestion hangs in the air, thick and unsettling. England? The irony isn't lost on me. It's utterly illogical. Why would this group, whoever they are, be leaving a trail leading to a backwater country like Zarqa, only to suddenly end up in England? It's like they're actively trying to mislead us, to throw us off the scent. Or, perhaps, he is?

I raise an eyebrow, studying Ryan. His usual charm feels forced, a thin veneer masking something beneath. There’s a strange urgency to his suggestion, a frantic energy that doesn't quite align with his nonchalant demeanor.

“England?” I repeat, my voice a low growl. “Why England? It's nonsensical.”

He shrugs, a careless gesture that fails to convince. “Just a thought,” he says, his smile too bright, too wide. “Maybe they have resources we don’t, connections we haven’t tapped into.” He winks, attempting to lighten the mood with a practiced charm that feels… off. The casualness is a carefully constructed mask. He is desperately trying to hide something from me, from Holly, from all of us. His usual swagger is replaced by something frantic.

“It’s a bizarre leap,” I say, my voice flat. “Zarqa is the logical next step. We have a visual lead, a symbol, however cryptic it may be. England seems… Why.

?”

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that’s designed to diffuse the situation. “Relax, Seb. Just throwing out ideas.” He reaches for Karolina’s hand, his touch lingering a fraction too long. He presses a kiss to her forehead, a show of affection that seems pointedly designed to distract from the unsettling shift in his demeanor.

The whole thing reeks of a deliberate attempt to derail our investigation, to steer us away from Zarqa. But why? The uncertainty bites at me, a cold, hard edge in the sudden warmth of the Duckling's cabin. I glance at Holly, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses.

“So… Zarqa?” Tommy asks.

I look at Ryan, who gives me a weird smile and a shrug. So I nod to Tommy. “Zarqa.”

*Tommy*

The hum of the Duckling's engines vibrates through the floor, a constant thrum against the silence of my own racing thoughts. Seb's got that ‘something's wrong’ look etched on his face, and Ryan's usual charm feels…off. Like a cheap suit trying to pass for bespoke. Karolina's nestled into Ryan's side, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between the rest of us.

Seb’s wants us to Zarqa... Zarqa. The name hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I get it… the sigil, it has to mean something. I set the bloody curse towards Zarqa, a tiny, forgotten country wedged between mountains and myth. How the hell did their sigil end up here?

Holly’s calm, is as a rock in this sudden storm. But even she’s staring at Ryan with a look that could curdle milk.

Seb’s right. England makes no sense. But then, neither does Ryan's sudden shift. From what I have heard, and seen so far, he always plays the charming rogue, but this… this feels different. Almost frantic. Like he’s trying to cover up something huge.

I want to say something, to break the tension, but words get tangled in my throat. Instead, I just nod when Seb says Zarqa. I can feel Holly's eyes on me, but her expression remains unreadable.

As always she was super impressive, the way she went down to get Karolina, and I feel a need to say something. "Holly… that was… amazing. The way you went down I mean..." I start, the words clumsy and ill-formed.

I wish I could tell her how good she looked… the way her hair catched the light over the canals, her focused expression, the way her muscles bunched under the strain. It's not just the skill; it’s the whole package. She’s breathtakingly beautiful in the middle of a near-death experience.

But as I consider saying more, Seb shoots me a look. A warning. I swallow my words, deciding discretion is the better part of valour for now. Perhaps later. Much later. When things are… less fraught. When I can find the right words, and when she wouldn't just roll her eyes and tell me to grow up. Maybe.