Chapter 33: Some Got Jelly
Safe House, Alps Mountains.
Three days passed in white isolation. The wound on Agatha's back began to dry, although the pain still stung every time she moved too fast. Xavier, with his perfectionist nature, did not let anyone touch his wife's wound but himself.
That afternoon, Xavier was changing Agatha's bandages in the living room. Agatha sat with her back to Xavier, her flannel shirt open at the back.
"The stitches are fusing well," muttered Xavier, applying cold ointment carefully. "You have healing abilities like a monster."
"Is that a compliment or an insult?" asked Agatha flatly, her eyes staring blankly at the fireplace.
"A compliment. It means I don't have to worry about you dying young."
The front door opened. Cold wind rushed in along with Frans entering. The man carried a new medical bag while shaking off snow from his thick jacket.
"Package arrived!" shouted Frans cheerfully. "High-dose antibiotic supplies and the special ointment you asked for. Just picked up from the drop point at the foot of the mountain."
Frans placed the bag on the table, then smiled mischievously at Xavier.
"And guess what, Xav? When I picked up this medicine from the courier, there was a special message from the sender... Doctor Elena."
Xavier's hand paused for a moment on Agatha's back, then continued applying the ointment. "Just put it there, Frans."
"Elena?" asked Agatha suddenly. Her ears instantly sharpened hearing a woman's name.
Frans immediately seized the opportunity. His eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Oh, Agatha doesn't know Elena? She is our subscription surgeon. Very beautiful, Tha. Russian descent, blonde hair, Spanish guitar body. Back then she chased Xavier when we had a mission in Monaco."
"Frans," warned Xavier coldly. "Shut your mouth."
But Frans didn't care. He was even more enthusiastic about heating up the atmosphere.
"Elena sends her regards, Xav. She said, tell Xavier I miss our hot nights at the casino. If he needs a thorough check-up, I am ready twenty-four hours." Frans mimicked a woman's speaking style with a fake moaning tone.
Silence.
The warm room temperature suddenly felt like it dropped ten degrees.
Agatha slapped Xavier's hand away from her back roughly. She pulled her shirt, buttoning it up to the neck with quick and stiff movements, then turned to look at her husband with a murderous gaze.
"Hot nights at the casino?" asked Agatha smiling slightly, underestimating, but her tone was deadly. "So all this time you have a private doctor ready to serve twenty-four hours?" Agatha raised one eyebrow.
Xavier massaged his temples, then threw a sharp glare at Frans who was holding back laughter in the corner.
"Listen, Agatha..." Xavier tried to explain.
"No wonder you are good at stitching my wound," cut in Agatha cynically. "She must have taught you many things, right? Body anatomy? Touch techniques? How long did you two do it?"
Agatha stood up, even though her legs were a bit limp.
"Great, Mr. Valois. Your wife is dying being stitched up, and you get a longing greeting from a sexy woman from your past. Go on, call her. Who knows, maybe she can save you better than I can."
Agatha was about to step towards the bedroom, but Xavier quickly grabbed her arm. He pulled Agatha until the woman's body crashed into his broad chest.
"Let go!" hissed Agatha, struggling.
"Listen to me first, my jealous little Rose," said Xavier calmly, locking Agatha's waist with his strong arms so the woman couldn't escape.
Xavier looked at Frans sharply. "Frans, explain the part you cut out. Or your salary will be cut one hundred percent this month."
Frans immediately shrank. "Uh... well, Agatha. That..."
"Explain," ordered Xavier.
"Actually... Elena did chase Xavier in Monaco," confessed Frans while scratching his head. "But Xavier rejected her completely. Three times Elena tried to enter Xavier's hotel room wearing lingerie, three times also Xavier ordered me to drag her out. Xavier is very fierce, Tha. He said Elena's perfume made him sneeze."
"That is what was in front of my eyes, I don't know about what wasn't visible," squeaked Frans who immediately got a glare from Xavier.
Agatha fell silent. Her eyes blinked, looking at Frans and Xavier alternately. "Really?"
Xavier looked into Agatha's eyes deeply.
"In Monaco, hot nights means I won two million dollars at the poker table until the casino almost went bankrupt. Not sleeping with women."
Xavier tucked a stray hair behind Agatha's ear.
"You think my taste is that low? I am a bastard, Agatha. But I have standards. I don't sleep with women who approach me for money. That is disgusting."
Agatha's face turned bright red up to her ears. She was ashamed for being blindly jealous, but also incredibly relieved.
"Frans said she sent regards..." squeaked Agatha, trying to defend herself with a small voice.
"Elena is indeed obsessed with me. It is not my fault if I am too charming," answered Xavier narcissistically, the corner of his lips lifting to form a smirk. "But the only woman who managed to enter my room without being dragged out is only you. Only you dare to fight me on my bed."
"You masochist," muttered Agatha, turning her blushing face away.
"Only for you," replied Xavier. He kissed Agatha's forehead briefly. "So, still want to be angry?"
"Shut up," Agatha pushed Xavier's chest lightly, then sat back on the sofa with pouting lips. "Frans, if you lie again, I will cut your tongue."
"Mercy, Queen!" Frans raised two fingers forming a V. "I just wanted to test the waves. Turns out the wave turned into a tsunami."
Xavier shook his head seeing the behavior of his assistant and wife. He returned to serious mode, taking a tablet from the medical bag brought by Frans.
"Enough drama. What is the news from outside, Frans?"
Frans's jovial face immediately vanished, replaced by professional mode.
"A1 info from Italy, Boss. Luigi is starting to move," reported Frans.
Frans slid the tablet screen towards them. There was a blurry photo from a long-range spy shot. A small town square on the quiet Italian border. In the center, a man was tied to a lamp post in a pathetic condition.
Agatha's eyes narrowed sharply. "Petrov."
"He is still alive," said Frans. "His legs are crushed, but he is left alive. And look at the writing on the board hung around his neck."
Xavier zoomed in on the image. Messy red paint writing read clearly: GIFT FOR THE ROSE.
"Luigi displayed him," hissed Agatha coldly.
"That is a classic trap," said Xavier. "Luigi knows we won't let a traitor die peacefully, or he thinks you have the heart to save your former partner. He made Petrov bait. Around that square must be dozens of snipers from other units planted."
"He wants to lure us out of hiding," concluded Agatha.
"Shall we just ignore it?" asked Frans. "Let Petrov die dry there."
"No," answered Agatha. A terrifying smile appeared on her pale lips.
Agatha looked at Xavier with a gaze that gave Frans goosebumps.
"Petrov is trash. I don't care if he lives or dies. But Luigi has worked hard to build a performance stage for me. It would be rude if the main guest didn't come."
"You want to walk into that trap?" asked Xavier, his eyebrow raised in interest.
"We won't walk into his trap, Xav," Agatha took a dagger from the table, playing with it in her fingers with quick movements.
"We will burn the stage. We take Petrov, we send his head to Luigi, and we make sure those snipers regret aiming at the Rose."
Xavier grinned broadly. He liked this crazy side of his wife.
"Burning a stage in Italy? Sounds like a romantic date."
"So who is hotter, me or her?" asked Agatha suddenly.
"Of course you, my wife," answered Xavier quickly while kissing Agatha's forehead.
"Means you have seen her," she said coldly and got up to leave Xavier.
"Damn, trap question," Xavier raked his hair back in frustration while Frans tried to hold back his laughter so it wouldn't burst out.