Chapter 96: One Last Time

Fallon.

Sebby was isolated for a few weeks and every day was difficult. I’d hear him coughing violently and crying for the pain, and my heart would ache. We were allowed to visit at limited times only and only if we wore proper gear; masks, hospital gowns, and gloves. I tried to understand their strict policies, because my son was, after all, not carrying any other illness. It was pneumonia. And it was contagious.

During those hard times, Jett never left my side. And in those times together, we had small talks. About everything.

I discovered he’s been seeing a therapist and getting therapy after getting diagnosed with PTSD. I also shared my clinically diagnosed illness, depression. He shared how he lived the past years—jumping from one country to another, slowly but surely shrugging the Interpol off his tracks and his constant temptations to turn to drug abuse during his darkest times. I could only imagine how heavy of a toll the events took on him.

I felt relieved he was getting treatment and is getting better. Jett has been through a lot the past few years. I don’t know if meeting each other again was the best solution for him, but I guess it was of some help, remembering he started to seek help after seeing me.

Of course, I was hesitant to share my own struggles.

But I didn’t have to say much, because he already read the letter where I poured out my sincerest thoughts.

Every week, Dr. Anker would update us on Sebby’s condition. She said he was getting better, but it would still be long before he was completely cured. And until he’s fully well, he should stay in the hospital.

When we asked how long it was likely, she said it was half a year at least.

Half a year. My dear son will have to suffer for half a year at least.

For a mother, it was torture. I didn’t even want to think if my son could bear it for six more months. Years ago, I never imagined I’d care for someone else so bad like this. I thought I’d be doing missions and living a lonely life in Manhattan all my life. My job was my life. If someone told me all those years ago that I’d be a single mom in Norway, a deserter agent, and whose son was sick with pneumonia, I’d laugh at the incredulity of it. I’d laugh, not even bothered by the idea of it, simply because it was impossible.

But one solo mission changed that.

One mission. One love.

And my life changed; did a whole 360 and flipped completely.

For the first time, I felt tired of my job. And in my wildest dreams, I ran away. From the life of espionage that I was born into and into a life entirely new and peaceful. Or so I thought.

The phantoms of my past are looming overhead.

I knew one day they’d show up, finally tracking either Jett or me. Either way, we’re both fugitives. It’s either the Interpol or the FBI; both will be pointing their guns at us.

Now, our life will change again.

With one last fight.

While we await our final battle against the world, our son is also fighting his own battle. Against his own demons. Against pneumonia.

What a family, am I right? We’re all broken and unlucky on our own. But that’s what makes me love this family even more because together, we’re perfect. We’re unyielding to the challenges of life and fighting steadfastly to achieve the pinnacle of success—peace, and wellness.

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“He’s a fighter,” complimented Dr. Anker six weeks after Sebby was diagnosed. She was smiling softly, genuinely happy for her patient’s unbelievable progress. “His immune system is getting stronger every day. Please continue to support your son. In a few more weeks, most of his severe symptoms would’ve disappeared.”

A smile broke out on my face as I nodded eagerly. My grip on Jett’s hand tightened as I said, “We will. Thank you for everything so far, Doctor.”

She nodded and excused herself.

Jett and I turned our heads simultaneously as we gave each other reassuring smiles.

“He’ll be running around again in no time,” he said, nodding confidently. “Once he does, I’ll make sure to take him all around the best places in the world.”

“Why?”

His smile faltered a bit. “When he was diagnosed, I thought his time was limited. I regretted not letting him see the beauty of the world before he…you know.” He shrugged.

I pursed my lips and nodded. I started walking down the hallway and back to Sebby’s isolated room, as I replied, “I had confidence in Sebby’s strength and resilience. I knew he’d get past this.”

“Really?” His left brow cocked, teasing. “When you cried every night and every time his condition got worse, that was you being confident?”

I shot him a glare and acted as if misstepping to stomp on his foot.

“Fucking— ow,” he grunted, biting back a curse as he glanced at me. “Fine, I’ll stop…” he grumbled.

Our intertwined hands never left each other’s grasp. It was the little things I cherished most—the little affectionate and thoughtful gestures. Our relationship now was more…tamed and transparent. Less deception. More trust. Less lust. More…love. Though I can’t deny I didn’t entirely miss the lust, I didn’t mind this too.

I woke up the next morning with a blanket over me as I fell asleep in the bedroom of the presidential suite where Sebby was moved and isolated. He was on the next room, with plastic curtains and a secured hospital bed. We decided to move to this presidential suite after hearing we’ll be staying in the hospital for a little bit longer. I sat upright, looking around. From the windows, I could see the moon lighting up the dark sky and the buildings lighting up the ground. The city life in Tromso was more alive than ever.

My head turned to the connected bathroom door when I heard its knob turn.

“You’re awake?” Jett asks, his hair dripping wet and half-naked with only a towel covering his lower half. I didn’t even hear the shower running. “Ah.” He saw where my gaze went. “Sorry. I left my clothes outside.”

I gulped and looked away.

My mind that was still sleepy completely woke up, my hormones along with it, when I saw his freshly-showered state. His sex appeal hits harder in the night, apparently.

Jett went back inside and I left the room to avoid any more naughty thoughts. I closed the door and leaned against it, gathering myself, until I felt conscious.

It was my sharp senses as an agent kicking in. My instinct.

I looked around the suite, looking for anything, anything at all. I checked the upper corners of the rooms for any cameras. I looked under every table for wiretapping, until I remembered the gadget I brought a few weeks ago.

In a feigned lax mien, I returned inside the room and calmly rummaged through my duffel bag. I felt Jett’s presence behind me as he curiously followed my movements. “What are you doing?”

I turned to him and placed an index finger over my mouth. A few more pockets later, I finally found the Elite Ai. I wore the lenses and saw a whole new world. My vision was immediately replaced with red, orange, and yellow hues. The lenses were infrared scanners. It took me a while to get used to them. Once I did, I checked every nook and cranny of the hotel.

“Fallon?” Jett followed me closely.

I hushed him again.

My gaze froze to the small red inkling behind the suite’s TV. It was barely noticeable. The TV was in the center of the suite, in the lobby. Whether it was a camera or a wiretap, it was the perfect place to hide it.

Smart.

I took off the lenses and inspected the TV. The bug was behind it, hidden strategically. It was only as small as a fingernail and black. It could pick up sounds. Very smart.

Now another question hangs suspended, unanswered: Is this from the Interpol or the FBI? Or both, if they pushed through the joint mission. I showed the bug to Jett, his jaw clenching, as I crushed the fragile little thing with my fingers.

“There could be more,” was all I said. I gave him the other lense as we both scoured the suite for any more. We found three, also hidden strategically all over the place. I wanted to laugh. It was easy to plant these inside. With the number of nurses, doctors, and housekeeping that visits every day, it was easy to sneak a spy in.

Nonetheless, we’ve been too reckless. We don’t know how long these have been here, but no matter how long it is, one thing can be assumed: they know we’re together—Jett Rios and the deserter agent that exposed him.

I heard his deep sigh, followed by a sarcastic remark, “Then I guess it’s safe to assume we’ve been found. What now?”

“Now…” I turned to him, removing the Elite Ai lenses. “We ask the doctor if Sebby can change hospitals. So, we can change countries and identities.”

“We’re running? Again?” He frowned.

I took his lenses and stored them back inside as I answered, “How do you plan on fighting a special squad of elites from the Interpol and possibly the FBI with a sick son in need of urgent medical attention, then?”

“I was planning to face this last wave, though. I’ve had enough running.”

I’ve also had enough running, I wanted to say. But running is the only thing I can do when I have someone to protect.

He took one big stride, fully closing our distance. I gulped as I looked up at him. He spoke, “Take Sebastian somewhere safe. I’ll welcome them here.”

The small scoff could not be repressed as I retorted, “You stupid? They’re not here to simply arrest you. You know that.”

He smiled. A wicked one.

“I’m not welcoming them harmlessly, too.” Jett sighed, his tone a little less vicious, “Fallon, when I protect my family, I leave no room for reservations. I can’t promise you my survival, but if I do come out of this alive, I promise you this will be my last fight.”

“Of course. The dead can’t fight again.”

“Please, enough snarky remarks. Just go. If the doctor doesn’t approve, then take her with you. You two have to be safe, then I’ll follow when I’m done with my business here.”

I retained my cold expression.

“…Since when did you become some sacrificial hero? You’re not the only one they’re after. They’ll never stop looking for me until I’m dead. You know that, right?”

His eyes darkened. “I’ll end it all here. Nobody can come after you, or Sebastian.”

Jett’s mind was made. I could feel it from his tone. He was resolved and determined, but isn’t he underestimating me too much?

Did he forget how capable I was?

Did he forget how big of a stunt I pulled?

Must I make him remember how scheming and cunning of a woman I was?

Jett… my love. We both had our demons to fight and it seems we’ve been too easy on them.

“Jett,” I called, my eyes blazing with newfound mischief. “It’s time for one last deception. Together, the three of us, against the world.”

He frowned as a slow, knowing smile curled in my lips.

“Are you in?”

Another game. One last time.