One more time : Where Oblivion meets Obsession

#2 – THE VACATION

——Mexico——

"PARIS! But it’s totally unnecessary Scott. I-”

“Shh. It’s not unnecessary Sarah. We’re going. I want to give you the world and all the love and happiness in it. You deserve it.” He said proudly.

She knew she couldn’t change Scott’s decision on this. He was firm. But the thing wasn’t as bad after all. Paris was the perfect place to execute their plan.

“Okay then.” She said looking down. “When shall we leave? I have to do all the packing.”

“Two days later. Thursday would be fine.” He said.

“Scott, please don’t book the whole first-class next time. It’s awkward.” She said with a pout.

“We’re going by my jet.” He laughed. “It’ll still be just you and me. I don’t want anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

She was getting distracted. She had to go out and find Shermon. “Scott I have to use the restroom.” She said placing her hands on the table to get up when she stopped seeing a familiar pair of deep greyish black eyes approaching towards them with a tray in his hand. She settled back looking down.

“Sire, Ice cream.”

“We didn’t order ice cream?” Scott asked looking at Myra.

“It’s a fan of yours. One of our staff. Says you once saved her dear one’s life. This was the least she could do. She is kind of shy but she requested you to autograph this for her.” He said placing a tissue paper and pen infront of Scott who happily took the pen and focussed on the paper when Myra carefully removed the documents from her bag and slid it in the tray he was holding. He is so smart. Myra thought with a smirk looking impressed at the built man tall, well- standing in front of her in thick waiter's disguise.

The waiter left with a polite ‘thank you’.

“How lucky. Isn’t this your favourite flavour Sarah?” Scott said delighted.

“Yeah it is. What a coincidence?” Myra replied sharply.

“I think we should leave. We’re done.” Scott said, extending a hand to her.

“Okay.” She nodded.

***

——Beach, PARIS——

The rest went on as planned and Myra was like a falcon waiting to strike in the right direction. Her restlessness grew with every passing moment. She and her team were in Paris and it was time. The beach was thinly crowded and Scott was faraway. The loud blaring music made it impossible to hear anything when her phone rang. She received it and came the well-known voice, “after 12 minutes sharp, your white Ghini, make him see it.”

“Wrong number.” She placed the phone back on the wooden, round table making a confused face as she eyed an approaching Scott.

“What happened?” he asked, wiping his hair and dripping fair body with a towel.

“Some i***t was ordering pizza on this number.” She shook her head.

“Happens sometimes.” He chuckled, taking a seat in front of her and placed his hands under his chin and kept staring at her emotionally.

After a while Myra asked, “what are you staring at? What happened?” There were so many girls on the beach. Bathing, sunbathing, swaying to the music, displaying their curves and sedυctive bodies but his eyes never stopped at anyone but her.

“You know, Sarah whenever someone offered me a deal which was too good, I would investigate instead of being happy and excited. And most of the time, the deal turned out to be a ploy with a motive.” He said looking around.

“And why are you telling me this?” She asked suspiciously.

He moved his face closer and touched hers with his fingers. “You are too good to be true Sarah. So perfect. So real. So mine. I just have a hard time believing it's not a dream. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable but I can't help staring at you. Because I don't want to lose the sight of you. Maybe because I’m still afraid that one day I'll open my eyes and you'll be gone.” He said in a deep voice dripping with emotions and fear– fear of losing her.

Nothing really excited Myra or made her happy but the fact that this man would not die at her hands gave her extreme relief.

For her, Killing was as simple and addictive as drinking. She felt no remorse, no guilt after doing it. She was the person who could kill a person in the morning and have a happy, guiltless brunch with no remorse or memory of whatsoever.

“So how do you find Paris?” he asked, taking a sip of soda.

“It’s just fine.” She said looking around.

“What? Really?” he asked confused. His Sarah wasn’t an ungrateful person and why would she say this when she knew this vacation was for her and her only?

“Yah. It’s been three days and everything is according to how you want it. Your food, your tourist spots, your hotels and everything. I feel like just an accomplice.” She said looking the other way.

“Okay then tell me what do you want?” He asked unsurely.

Her lips curved into a naughty smile as she got up from the table and walked near him. She lowered her head near his ear and whispered, “You.”

“Ha?” He was so taken aback by his shy wife’s so bold gesture that he just froze. “In the car. Right now.” And kissed his cheek seductively and ran from there while he kept wondering what just happened, with his mouth hanging open.

After a few minutes, his feet followed her seductively deep, enchanting bluish eyes to the parking lot like a lost puppy.

He was standing yards away from her with wildly raised heartbeats when she opened the door, sent him a flying kiss and slipped inside. With slow steps, he started moving towards the car, his eyes fixed on it, when his heart stopped as it exploded into flames.

For a few seconds he couldn’t grasp if it was a nightmare or a reality. This couldn’t happen. His Sarah! The love of his life! The reason for his existence and all his happiness was no more. Life couldn’t be so cruel. He fell to his knees but then gathered the courage and rushed to the ablaze car hoping to find her when other civilians who had now surrounded the place firmly held him back. He struggled in their grip shouting her name desperately wanting to go towards the flames and pull her out unscathed. But that couldn’t happen. The car continued to burn down while he watched weak and helpless, deaf and mute. Slowly his pain subdued his fierceness and he fell down unconscious.

A shadow was watching all this from a distance and patted her own back impressed.

“Good work Myra. No more Mrs. Sarah Scott Gardiner. No more that irritating attire, home and man. Good job Sherry.”

“Yeah. My team is my responsibility.” He took out the phone and made another call, “Evening Sir. Mission accomplished. The suspect you asked us to follow, he or his people had no links with the last year pandemic originating in Mexico. Nor his hospitals, labs and doctors were used in the process. My other team has reached the real culprits. It was the SET pharmaceuticals. You’ll see the news of the owner’s cardiac arrest within a few hours. Over.” He hung up and turned to her, “Rose will join us soon. Then we’re going on a vacation.”

“Yeah I really need one. Ask Bryan to run the news of Mrs Gardiner’s death on all the channels, in all the countries.” Myra said exhausted leaving with him.

—Madagascar—

“This is so relaxing.” Myra sighed letting her legs wash on the water. She watched as the waves broke on the shore, her golden swimsuit shining against the beach sand.

She looked around. Her entire team was there. Every time they were together, it felt like the first few days they were together. They were each other’s family, more than family. She slipped back to the memory of the day when Shermon first introduced her to her team five years ago.

“Mye welcome to your new world. Let me introduce you to your new family.” He clapped both his hands together to have everyone’s attention and they did. Everybody was looking at her now.

He walked to a cheeky looking muscular young man, “This man here is Bryan. He is French by birth but you can forget that. He is responsible for all the databases and information about the mission beforehand and in case things mess up he has reach to the deepest of media channels and their owners, he deals with it.”

Bryan was too friendly for a first meeting, “Hello beautiful. Such lovely blue eyes-“

“Save it for later Bryan.” Shermon said slightly pushing him back by his hand with a bored expression and led her forward.

“This is Rosaline. Our best assassin and sniper.” Shermon said, leading to a gorgeous, tall, woman with a warm ivory complexion that totally complimented her dark burgundy hairs and brown eyes.

“It's Rose. Hello, aren’t you too young to be here?” She said in a firm flat voice with an amused look.

“It’s our abilities not our age Rose that lands us here. But FYI, it’s her body type. She’s 22… Moving on, this is Yousuf. He just looks aged. He’s a specialist with weapons and other things.” Yousuf just gave a forced smile and resumed his work. No other expressions on his tan face, but tightly wound tiny braids indicated he was from around the South Western region.

“What other things?” Myra asked curiously.

“You’ll see.” He said with a smirk.

“Meet Ronn and Yuka. They are prosthetic experts and also very good with chemicals. There’s no wound, no mark they can’t hide, no tattoo they cannot conceal and no person they cannot become.”

“Hello young lady. Nice to meet you.” They said in unison.

She was amused. “Are you twins?”

They looked at each other and replied together, “heavens No. we’ve just learnt to synchronise with each other over these years.”

“Oh.” She said, feeling embarrassed.

***

“Where’s Rosaline?” a flirty Bryan asked, slightly sliding his sunglasses away looking around.

“It’s Rose.” The tall, white lady with now brown hairs now walked with a champagne bottle in her hands when Bryan forwarded his glass. She poured some while he kept staring at her perfect self. “No wonder you’re the best killer. Your curves are-“

“Bryan just so that you know, I'm really good at breaking hearts. And honestly you’re not my type. You’re so… dull.” She finished bringing the bottle to her lips.

“Whoa whoa that’s not right sweetheart. If you have to reject, you find something else. Anything… These dirty blue eyes, these messy black hairs, this rough skin, worthless abs and also that I’m 6’2”, 4 inches taller than you. You could say we’d NOT look great together.” He finished huskily with his sarcasm. Despite her irritation, she couldn’t deny he was charming but ignored him and turned to Myra.

“Good to see you back Myra. It’s been so many months.”

“Yeah. So happy to be me again. I missed my g*n, this opener, my attire, my attitude and this ID tattoo.” She said slightly caressing an olive and navy blue tattoo on her wrist. It was a specialized ink formulated by certain chemicals available only at the UDF main base in Svalbard islands. Also these tattoos could be scanned for authenticity and identification in times of crises. It presented a logo of their organisation they worked for, UDF (United Defence Force) displaying an olive leaf stuck inside a grenade and the grenade looked much like the global map. They all worked on nuclear and weaponry missions.

This was one reason they needed Ronn and Yuka on every mission. They all were field agents and couldn’t go around impersonating students, professionals or tourists and have tattoos, bullet wounds, stitches, and scars over their bodies.

Myra opened a bottle of beer using the opener she usually carried in a locket hanging down her neck. She looked at Rose and asked, “Your hair colour changed… again?”

“Yeah I love experimenting.” She said lovingly ruffling her hairs.

“How’s my little boy doing Bryan?” Myra asked, inclining her neck towards Bryan. He was supposed to keep knowledge of everything that they needed.

“He’s fine. Busy with studies nowadays. IIT. Tough.” He replied.

“Hmm. Good he’s working hard.” She replied. Hassan Qazi, a now well off student, was once a terrified fourteen year old struggling for survival in a warzone when Myra found him. She tried her best to ignore it but the little tinge of humanity left in her didn't allow her to abandon him like that. Within a few days, she completed the legal procedure, took him under her guardianship and brought him out of there.

“Well all the credit goes to you. Hadn’t you found him in Syria five years ago, taken him under your guardianship and given him all these privileges, I can’t imagine where he would be.” Shermon spoke sympathetically.

“In a small grave in that Syrian village, gunned down by a local or an Arab.” Yousuf answered, deeply feeling the same.

“I prefer not to talk about it. He’s my long lost cousin. I found him back. That’s the story. Keep up with it.” Myra said sharply.

“Yup.” Came Shermon's voice. She never understood Shermon's gentlemanliness. Many times, she felt like he was faking it. Even with two bikini clad girls sitting around him, he never raised his eyes from the book. Even when he talked, his eyes were fixed on their faces or the ground and didn’t wander around their curves like Bryan’s.

“Wondering what’s so interesting in that book.” Rose muttered uninterested.

“It’s the history of Ottoman empire. Fascinating.” He replied, fascinated.

“Well if you look properly there are a lot of ‘fascinating’ things around you too.” She said with a smug look stretching a little.

“I’m good.” He replied, still looking into the book. He had an obsession with antiquity and history books. If not for this, he wanted to become an archaeologist or a historian. He somehow managed to get a collection of all the books banned in countries and always carried one or the other with him. There was no incident in history that wasn’t read by him.

His phone ring disturbed the entire atmosphere. It wasn’t the distinctive ring of the work mobile but the way Shermon tried to fake a smile to hide his nervousness that caught everyone’s attention.

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