motel
“When I catch you, Billy…” Rio muttered, flipping through the pages of the journal. Symbols, codes, and numbers stared back at her, taunting her skills. She paused at a peculiar doodle, looking at Señor Scratchy. The rabbit moved slightly as if cocking his head in confusion.
Or Rio had just drunk a little too much.
“You wanna be friends?” She slowly opened the door to his little bubble, sneaking a hand inside to pet him softly. “I think we’d make a great pair,” she cooed, smiling at the way the rabbit nuzzled her hand.
Agatha walked out of the bathroom in the small motel room they were sharing for the night, leaning against the wall. Rio quickly shifted her attention to the small book, closing Scratchy’s door. “Our boy used a symmetric key algorithm to encrypt it.”
Agatha’s brows furrowed. “Feistel construction?”
“Lai-Massey scheme. Straight out of Darkhold book 1.”
Agatha let out a surprised chuckle. “Huh. You actually know your Darkhold.”
Rio kicked her feet up on the desk in front of her, leaning back in a way that had Agatha biting the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, I wasn’t bullshitting on the train.” She stretched, almost falling backward out of her chair. “I’m a loyal reader.” Rio moved so her head was resting in her hands. The look in her eyes changed subtly to something Agatha couldn’t detect. Fondness? Nostalgia? She didn’t know Rio had feelings. “You’re one hell of a writer, Agatha Harkness.”
Agatha blushed, looking at the ground in an attempt to hide her expression. “Sure.”
“And you’re not a half-bad spy, either.” Agatha looked up as Rio’s gaze bore into her, dead serious. She opened her mouth to say something, then paused before closing it again.Agatha muttered a quick “Thanks” at her, still blushing. Then she felt a weird sense of déjà vu like she’d been here before. Chalking it up to something that might have been from her old drafts, she smiled at Rio, who’d gone back to playing with Scratchy. Maybe she was trustworthy after all.
“The shower’s all yours,” Agatha gestured behind her to the bathroom, lights still on. Rio looked like she was holding back a snide remark as she nodded and grabbed her bag, closing the door behind her. Agatha sighed as she went to sit on the bed. Rio seemed nice now that Agatha had spent more time around her, and something about her seemed familiar in a way that had Agatha wanting to hang around her even more. She settled under the covers as Rio’s voice floated in from the bathroom.
“Yeah, I got her,” Rio said. Was she talking on the phone? She paused. “I don’t know, some fleabag motel.” Another pause. “Yeah, she doesn’t suspect a goddamn thing.”
Agatha froze. They were obviously talking about her.
“Yeah, I know, she’s driving me crazy.” Ouch. And Agatha thought they had a bond. “No, Agatha Harkness needs a bullet through her head.”
Agatha’s blood ran cold as she jumped out of the bed. She quickly gathered her things as quietly as she could, Rio’s unassuming voice still clear from the bathroom. Thank god for motels and their cheap, thin walls. “No, listen, I bring her to you, and then we end it, okay? I’m done with this shit.” Agatha hesitated before grabbing Billy’s journal and tossing it into her backpack as well. Rio was trying to kill her, and she needed to get out of there, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to think properly. If Rio came after her, she would need something to hold over her head.
She needed to run and find a safe place.
* * *
Evanora heard a knock on the door, scowling as she hobbled to open it. Her neighbor, Ralph, stood there with his phone outstretched. “What do you want?” She spat, about to shut the door in his face.
“Um, your daughter’s calling from London.”
Evanora snatched the phone out of his hand faster than he could blink. “Hello?”
“Mother. Hello.” Agatha’s voice didn’t give much away.
“I was wondering why you didn’t show up. Why the hell are you in London?” Ralph asked for his phone back silently, reaching a hand out again. Evanora mouthed at him to go away and shut the door in his face, ignoring any other protests as she locked it behind her.
Agatha’s voice shook slightly. “I—I’m in some really big trouble.”
“You always are.” Evanora’s subsequent eye-roll was audible from the other end of the line. “What did you do?”
“I can’t say. Not on an open line.”
“Open line? Oh dear,” Evanora muttered. Agatha didn’t know whether that indicated her mother was actually concerned or just severely disappointed. Probably the latter. “Come home right now.”
“I can’t.” Agatha winced. “I don’t have any money, I can’t use my credit cards, and I have no passport.”
“Excellent.” Evanora sarcastically muttered on the other end.
“I just didn’t know who else to call.”
Evanora let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scoff. “Fine, I’ll book a flight to London.”
“Do you remember the hotel you were at last time?”
“Yes.”
“Book the same suite there. Don’t say it out loud on the phone.”
“I know what an open line is, daughter.” Evanora scoffed.
“Okay.” Agatha hung up the phone.
* * *
Next thing she knew, Agatha was knocking on Room 205, hoping like hell for the first time in her life that it would be Evanora who opened the door. She wasn’t particularly fond of her mother—her emotions for her more so bordered on hate—but Agatha had no other choice. She didn’t exactly have extended family, and her dad was out of the picture, so the old crone named Evanora Harkness it was.
The old crone swung open the door, greeting Agatha with a frown on her lips. Agatha took a seat as her mother settled in the comfy chair across from her, the usual disappointment present on her face. “Is this a tax problem? Because I assumed it was.”
Agatha shook her head. “Were you followed here?” First, she had to make sure it was even safe to be in this room.
“Followed?” Evanora scoffed as she got up to make tea, probably for herself. “Why would anyone want to follow me, Agatha?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice becoming sharper.
Agatha sunk back into her chair, hating the effect her mother’s voice had on her. “No, no reason. I-It’s alright.”
“Agatha Harkness, you are telling me what mess you got yourself into right this instant.”
Agatha shriveled under Evanora’s gaze, peering over the countertop. “Something I wrote in my new book—something I completely made up—got too close to something very real.” Agatha began. She paused for a moment after, gauging Evanora’s reaction. After she gestured for her to continue, Agatha took another deep breath. “And because of it, a rogue spy agency, a real Directorate, suddenly thought I could help them recover this digital file they’d been searching for, so they came after me.”
Evanora’s fingers twitched. “And pray tell me, how did you get away?”
“Another spy saved me. She promised she could protect me if I helped her get to the file first.” Agatha paused, thinking of the way Rio’s brown eyes had shimmered in the sunlight. “She convinced me she was helping me until I found out she was not, so I took the only lead we had on this file—a logbook from a hacker, or something—and, um, came here.”
Agatha finally mustered up the courage to look at Evanora. “And this logbook, or whatever,” Evanora mused. “Is with you right now? You brought something from this so-called spy mission?”
Agatha felt so dumb she wanted to cry. “Yes. It’s there in my backpack.” Did Evanora think she was on drugs?
Her mother moved to open her backpack, slipping the book out and flipping through it behind the walled counter. Agatha silently watched her mother’s face, unable to see what pages she was looking at due to that stupid blue-walled counter. She heard pages rustle every few seconds, Evanora’s gaze drawing tighter with every sound.
Agatha moved to stand up, jolting backward when the door was kicked open. She felt a cold gust of wind envelop the room as she scrambled off the chair she was on in order to get a better view. Rio stood next to Evanora, gun in hand, pointed at the old woman’s head. Agatha’s eyes widened. Evanora put her hands up, looking the most scared she had in her entire life. Agatha screamed.
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Evanora glared at Rio, even though the nozzle of the pistol in Rio’s hand was inches from her temple.
“Rio, what the fuck?” Agatha took a step closer to her.
Rio turned back to Agatha. “It’s not what it looks like.” She rolled her eyes. “You gotta trust me, sweetheart.”
The pet name amplified Agatha’s anger. “Trust you? You said you wanted to put a bullet in my head, I heard you!”
Rio groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. Agatha's stomach dipped, but she ignored it as Rio opened her stupid little mouth again. “You take things way too literally!” Rio moved closer to Evanora, pushing the gun against her head fully now. “But I would love to put a bullet in her head.” She drawled, glaring daggers back at Evanora.
“Enough.” Evanora held a hand up, one that Rio grabbed and held behind her back before she could do anything else. “You kill me, and The Divison will never stop hunting you. Never.” Evanora muttered darkly.
Agatha paused, jaw slackening.
“That’s not your mother. Don’t you see?” Agatha made eye contact with Rio and tried to make sense of the situation in her head.
Just then, Evanora lunged for a gun hidden in a drawer and aimed it at Agatha. Agatha tried to take deep breaths. Her vision was blurring at the edges. She needed to sit down. She grabbed for any form of support, choosing to rest on the arm of the couch nearby. She attempted a few more deep breaths and tried to calm her shaking hands as she squeezed her eyes shut.
A gunshot rang out in the room, and Agatha’s eyes flew open.
* * *