floorboards
Under the floorboards, Agatha winced as she saw what was probably a spider crawl over her shoe. Rio’s hand was firmly clamped over her mouth, preventing any unwanted noises as she shivered and squirmed. Rio was almost on Agatha, her knee in between her legs and her other arm leaning against the wood next to Agatha’s head. Her hand was wrapped tightly around her 7mm pistol—which Agatha suddenly realized was an incredibly rare find. The pistol looked oddly familiar to her, like she’d maybe seen it at a museum, or online, or maybe in one of her friends’ hands?
She wasn’t sure.
She racked her brain for that gun in Rio’s hand, disappointed when the memory seemed just out of reach. Like if she thought enough, she could remember, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t. She frowned under Rio’s still hand, cursing the accident for her jumbled memories.
Agatha decided to shift her attention to the dusty floor instead. There was a clear outline of where Rio had grabbed the lockbox from when they discovered it, overlaid by strings of sunshine that seeped in through the cracks of the floorboards. Rio shifted, and Agatha’s eyes darted to her immediately. Rio tried to shake the spider off of her leg, rolling her eyes when it didn’t work. She went back to slumping against Agatha, enduring the discomfort. That’s when Agatha realized she had never gotten a chance to properly look at Rio. Her eyes were a pretty brown that shone in the sunlight, and her hair, which was still up, seemed soft enough for–
Nope.
Agatha was not doing this.
Yes, Rio was objectively attractive.
And yes, if they weren’t in their current situation, maybe Agatha would be attracted to her and ask her out.
But they were hiding from some evil spy organization under some hacker’s floorboards, and those aren’t exactly ideal circumstances to ask a woman out.
In fact, Rio was a spy (as far as Agatha knew). They’d never work out.
So Agatha decided that she wasn’t attracted to Rio, and that she sure as hell was not going to do anything stupid. Even if Rio was trustworthy, her assignment was Agatha. So there was nothing there between them.
Suddenly, a man walked over the floorboards above them. Paused. Walked over them again. “Not again,” Rio groaned.
Agatha blinked, and suddenly she was fighting the entire team. She twisted left and right, firing bullets from that damn 7mm while occasionally ducking for cover. Agatha screamed from time to time, the noise escaping her every time Rio faced a close call. A few more men walked into the room behind Rio, Agatha noticing from where she was crouched in the hole in the floor. “There’s a guy behind you!” She yelled out, hoping Rio would hear.
Within seconds, a few men were thrown out the window again while the rest of them were lifeless on the floor. Rio stood in the middle of it all, stretching like she’d just come back from another day at the gym. She pulled her arm to one side before stretching her arms in the air. Agatha’s gaze was glued to the way her arms flexed.
“These Division guys, they come in waves,” Rio spoke up, causing Agatha to rip her eyes away from her arms and pretend like she cared. “So unless you wanna stick around for a meet and greet,” Rio punctuated her sentence by extending an arm out to Agatha, offering to help her up from the hole. Agatha took it and tried her best not to seem unathletic as she climbed onto the regular floor. She followed Rio silently as she made her way to the now-destroyed kitchen and grabbed a spoon sitting on the counter. She opened another door that led into the hallway, holding the spoon out in front of her.
Agatha furrowed her brows, confused. Then she spotted how figures were moving toward them, visible on the spoon. Shit. It was a mirror. Agatha was impressed for a few seconds, noting that she’d have to use that trick in one of her future books, before the panic overcame her and she moved marginally closer to Rio. She watched as more men occupied the hallway, dressed in the same black armor the last group had been in.
“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Rio’s low voice came from beside her. “I’m gonna knock ‘em down as we pass, and you’re gonna stomp on their heads.”
Agatha nodded, still in a daze. Then she grimaced. “What?”
“Yeah, you know. Seal the deal.”
“I can’t stomp on their heads! ” Agatha whisper-shouted, appalled by the idea.
Rio shrugged, only annoying Agatha further. “Course you can. The human skull is shockingly brittle.”
“What?”
“It’s like crushing an egg—like, have you ever hit a melon with a hammer? It’s—You just lift up your leg and crush.” Rio demonstrated, twisting her leg as she brought it up, and then suddenly bringing it down on the floor. “It’s like dancing.” She smiled, smacking her gum as she counted, “1, 2, 3, crush that skull.”
Agatha’s horror was growing with every second, forming a pool of dread in her stomach. “I don’t dance, and I don’t crush skulls!” She snapped.
“Well, then this should be a fun new experience for you!” Agatha couldn’t tell whether the pure joy in Rio’s voice was sarcastic or real, but both possibilities infuriated her. Before Agatha could open her mouth again, Rio tossed something out the door into the hallway. Agatha covered her ears for good measure as a bang went off in the hallway. Rio dragged Agatha by the hand into the hallway, filled with agents from The Division. She shot at the first guy she saw, kicking his body toward Agatha with a flourish as she dropped her hand and pointed at him.
She wanted Agatha to crush his skull, oh my god.
Rio strolled down the hallway as if this was a daily occurrence (for her, it probably was) as she put at least two bullets through every agent in the cramped hallway.
Meanwhile, Agatha struggled to handle the body lying at her feet. “Okay, you can do this,” she whispered to herself. “Just twist and crush.” She brought her leg up, letting it hover over the masked head for a few seconds. Then she put it back down. She couldn’t do it. She tried again, paused, then sighed. She tried again. “Twist, and…” Agatha’s leg shook as it hung over the man. “Fuck, I can’t do this,” she breathed, bringing her leg back down.
“Agatha, what’s going on?”
Agatha looked up to see Rio, standing at the head of the trail of bodies that separated them.
Apparently, in the thirty seconds she’d debated her morals, Rio had taken out about 12 agents. Agatha’s eyes widened comically.
“What happened to all the crushing?” Rio stepped through the pile of bodies carelessly. “I did my job. You didn’t do yours.”
“Um, yes,” Agatha scrambled for an answer. She felt like she was being reprimanded by a teacher. “So, I wanted to, I really did–”
“Yeah?” Rio walked over until she was right next to Agatha.
“It just–It didn’t seem necessary. I don't–”
The man near Agatha started to scramble up, but before Agatha could blink, Rio had crushed his skull. No hesitation.
Agatha gulped.
“You were saying?” Rio tilted her head at her, fake innocence etched onto her face.
“My bad,” Agatha mumbled. The elevator sputtered across the hallway, indicating the arrival of more agents. Agatha panicked, pushing her way through the first door she saw. Rio chased after her, pausing to groan when she read “ROOF ACCESS ONLY” on the door. This woman.
As she opened the door to the crisp London air, Agatha realized she was on the roof and had nowhere to go. Rio followed close behind, finding a rod nearby to block the door with so The Division couldn’t follow.
Rio followed Agatha to the edge of the roof, watching Agatha closely as she surveyed the scene around them. Agatha was silent. She tried to get her mind to focus as the door behind them shook with every blow the agents delivered to it. She squinted at the buildings in the distance, willing for her brain to formulate a plan, an idea, something that could get them out of there. She noticed a boat below them, then looked at the boat key still in Rio’s hand.
“This is Billy’s escape plan. The boat key, the rod next to the door, look,” Agatha pointed under the building. A boat was on the water, covered by a black tarp. “There has to be a rope…a rope, or a ladder, or something to get us down there.”
Rio smiled. “We’re gonna jump.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Agatha all but shrieked.
“We have to jump. You’re right, Billy thought this whole thing through. I can guarantee that under that tarp there’s a crash mat.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Look, trust me,” Rio grabbed Agatha’s hand. “Look where I’ve gotten you so far.”
Agatha shook her hand away from Rio’s. “Yeah, cornered on a roof, about to be killed!” Rio may be hot and exactly Agatha’s type, but Agatha still didn’t trust her.
“Fair point,” Rio muttered. “Let me ask you something. You trust Señor Scratchy, right?”
Agatha looked at her, confused. “Of course.”
And then Rio grabbed Scratchy from the carrier on Agatha’s back and dropped the rabbit from three stories above the boat. Agatha screamed, not realizing what Rio had done until Scratchy went tumbling down. She watched with fear as he finally landed, unharmed.
“Holy shit,” Rio laughed next to her. “It worked.”
“Thank god, oh my god.”
“Okay, we’re gonna jump. Arms out, landing on our backs like a trust fall. Okay?”
Agatha shook her head, panic rising in her chest. “No,” She gulped.
“It’s gonna be great.”
“No,” Agatha weakly protested, still blubbering as she tried to find her words.
“Look, Señor Scratchy’s all on his own down there. We gotta get down there.” Rio’s voice was softer now as she gently took Agatha’s hand and guided her to the ledge. Agatha gasped, struggling to breathe, as Rio comforted her. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio’s hand cupped Agatha’s face. “I’m gonna count down, and we’re gonna jump, and it’s all gonna be alright. Okay?”
Agatha couldn’t answer.
“3, 2, 1!” They both leaned backward. Agatha and Rio dropped onto the boat a second later, and Señor Scratchy went sailing upwards from the impact, because, you know, physics. Rio caught him as he came back down, restoring his sense of security as soon as she gently placed him back into his carrier. “Come on, let’s go.” Before Agatha could recover, Rio was up, starting the small speed boat next to them with the key. Agatha was confused on why they didn’t take the boat with the crash mat, but that thought went away as the agents burst through the door onto the roof. They watched like sitting ducks as Rio led Agatha and Señor Scratchy on the boat, speeding away toward the horizon.
* * *
“They got away, ma’am.” The Witch fumed silently, slowly stepping away from the monitor. She passed by another agent.
“I am so sorry, Ms.—”
“Regret for time wasted is wasting more time.” She silenced him with a hand. She strode up the stairs, pausing at the top. “Fuel up the jet. We’re taking a trip to Europe.”
* * *