ravaged hearts

CHAPTER THREE,

RAVAGED HEARTS | CHAPTER THREE

"THEY'RE LATE," STERLING remarked in the large, spacious chamber, looking rather displeased. "Very late, in fact."

  Sinclair looked bored in his seat. He replied, "Give them some time. They're the Enrique Zevallos siblings, they won't just not show up."

  Louis shrugged. "They might have been intercepted by someone and are now making very pleasant conversation. No reason we couldn't do the same."

  A nod, then Sterling said. "So. Caershireens. Arecians. Vayanteans. Think I saw Afanasiia Belova earlier, so that's the Kozlov Novokulugans. We're missing... Saians? Lohians?"

  Louis said, "The Lohians won't waste resources on this. They know we've got it covered. The Saians' absence is curious, though. Maybe they didn't bother because we'd already be here."

  "Too many agents on one mission isn't a good thing either," Sinclair said, every bit the perfect spymaster. "Risks chaos and disorder. Stepping over each other's paths." What they needed was a small and concentrated team of skilled individuals who knew how to work with each other. They could manage that.

  Louis snorted. "Don't think I haven't realised most of you came here with other missions just in case that happened. Hell, Sinclair, I haven't seen you leave Arecia for prolonged periods of time for years. Aren't the two of you treating this like a partial honeymoon?"

  Sterling smiled. "Maybe."

  Louis spread his arms, mouthing, 'I told you so'.

  Sinclair scowled, which was fully expected. It seemed a requirement for all of the heads of Arecia's Secret Service to be grumpy. Sinclair wasn't nearly this bad in his youth when they'd first met, but then again, neither had Miss Pang.

  The last time he'd seen the woman was a year ago. After that disastrous meeting. He was extremely grateful the Kozlov Novokulugans had not sent Aleksandr Volkov to this mission, but rather Afanasiia Belova, who Louis still had a decent relationship with.

  That was all he asked for these days. Decent. As long as the other person wouldn't want to punch him in the face, all was well.

  Some people, it seemed, got more genial in age. Others simply become more foul-tempered.

  Speak of the devil: the Kozlov agent was the next person to walk in. Her hair was dark as charcoal in the candlelight. Despite her slightly older age than the others in the room, Afanasiia still looked like someone who could be in her mid-twenties. Part of the woman's charm and ability.

  She glanced around, dark eyes taking in the three men gathered in the room before releasing a current 'harrumph'. "Our hosts are late."

  "And so we've noticed." Sterling gave a quick, mocking bow. "Haven't seen you in a bit, Belova."

  "Been trying to enjoy life. I was, until I got dragged out to deal with this shitfest."

  "There's enough of us you can slack," Louis pointed out. "If you're willing to, anyways. We have some excellent food and historical sightings here in Vayante."

  "War memorials?" Afanasiia waved her hand in the air. "I was present for half those fucking battles. Don't need to see them."

  "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were my ninety year old grandmother," Sterling said pleasantly.

  Sinclair eyed him. "Your grandmother is dead."

  Sterling just nodded.

  Afanasiia looked at them and shook his head. Louis enjoyed this camaraderie. Missed it, really. He'd been mostly surrounded by diplomats for the past while, people who took to deception and flowery accolades like second nature. Them agents lied and deceived to reach their goal, but when it wasn't time for a mission, they were all tired of it. So they spoke bluntly and truly.