Chapter 36: The Rose Illusion
Ventimiglia Town Square, Two in the Morning.
The rain was still falling, but now its intensity reduced to a fine drizzle that pierced the bones. Thick fog began to descend from the mountains, creeping to blanket the ancient paving blocks of the old town square, creating an atmosphere like a phantom opera stage.
In the midst of gripping silence, Petrov shivered violently. His body was tied tightly to a rusty iron lamppost. His skin was deathly pale, his lips blue, and his breath puffed white in the cold air. However, it wasn't the cold that made him tremble, but the very faint rhythmic ticking sound behind his back.
Bip... bip... bip...
A C4 box with a slowly blinking red indicator light was attached there. It was a farewell "gift" from Luigi. A time bomb prepared to blow up anyone foolish enough to approach.
"Please..." Petrov rambled softly, his voice hoarse mixed with sobs. "Don't come... for God's sake, let no one come..."
He knew he was being watched. His eyes moved wildly sweeping the dark windows of the old buildings surrounding the square. There, behind the darkness, dozens of gun barrels were aimed at him. Their index fingers rested on triggers, waiting for one command to turn this night into a blood party.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of high heels hitting the wet stone with a regular rhythm.
Petrov lifted his heavy head. His eyes widened in horror seeing the silhouette emerging from the fog.
At the end of the road, Agatha walked closer.
It was not an optical illusion. It was not a plastic mannequin. It was the real Agatha Arionsa Elara.
The woman wore a blood-red crimson gown whose length swept the wet ground, contrasting with the darkness of the night. A black umbrella in her right hand protected her from the drizzle. Her black hair flowed beautifully, moving slowly blown by the night wind.
"Agatha..." hissed Petrov, his tears spilling to wet his cheeks dirty with mud. "You are crazy! How dare you come here!"
Agatha did not stop. She didn't speed up her steps, nor did she slow them down. She continued walking calmly, her heart beating steadily, her breath regular. She knew dozens of infrared laser dots were dancing on her red gown right now, aiming at her heart and head.
Far away in the Italian headquarters, Luigi Volskey stared at the giant monitor screen with wide eyes. He got up from his leather chair, bringing his face closer to the screen displaying the real-time CCTV footage.
"That's her," whispered Luigi, his voice trembling with sick excitement. "Look at that lifted chin. I can smell her arrogance from here."
"Order to fire, Sir? Sniper Alpha and Bravo have locked the target. Accuracy level ninety-nine percent."
"Hold!" snapped Luigi, hitting the table. "Don't shoot yet. That's too easy. Instant death is too luxurious for that whore. Let her get close. Let her think she can be a hero. When her hand touches Petrov's rope... I will press the button myself."
Luigi gripped the small black box remote bomb trigger. His thumb stroked the red button with full lust.
In the square, Agatha was already five meters from Petrov.
"Don't move, Petrov," said Agatha softly. Her voice was calm yet firm, piercing through the sound of wind and rain. "Or I will put a hole in your head before the bomb explodes."
Petrov froze, crying in silence. "Why... why did you come?"
Agatha stopped exactly one meter in front of the pole. She dropped her black umbrella to the ground. She stood there, letting the rain start to wet her hair and expensive gown. She looked up slightly, staring directly at the CCTV camera on the pole across the street, then smiled crookedly.
A smile that challenged death.
"Now," whispered Luigi in his headquarters. "Goodbye, little girl."
Luigi pressed the red button with all his might.
CLICK.
At the same second, the world seemed to move in slow motion.
Three things happened simultaneously in that square.
First, Agatha dropped herself to the ground with a trained reflex movement, rolling closer to Petrov and pulling the man's body with all her might to lie prone with her on the wet asphalt.
Second, from the dark sky above them, four small drones controlled by Frans dropped flashbang bombs right in front of the snipers' windows. Blinding white light exploded, making the sharpshooters temporarily blind and fail to pull the trigger.
Third, the armored black Maybach car sped from the dark alley at full speed. Its rear tires screeched, doing a brutal drift on the slippery street, and positioning its sturdy side body right between Agatha's prone body and that bomb pole.
BLARRRRRR!!!
The C4 bomb on the pole exploded violently. The explosion devoured the lamppost, destroyed the sidewalk, and threw concrete debris in all directions.
A shockwave traveling at thousands of kilometers per hour slammed into the side of the Maybach.
The laws of physics worked cruelly. Even though the car weighed almost five tons with VR10 military standard steel plating, the explosion was too close. The car didn't flip over, but was destroyed due to the overly close blast.
The side windows cracked though didn't shatter into pieces. The steel door dented inward as if hit by a giant hammer. The left tire exploded instantly, spewing burning rubber. Sharp iron shrapnel from the lamppost that should have shredded Agatha's body, was now embedded deep in the smoking car body.
Silence.
For a few seconds, the world felt dead. There was only the sound of the car alarm barking in panic and stone ruins falling one by one.
Behind the protection of the now tilting car, Agatha coughed. Her ears rang loudly. Her vision was blurry. Her chest felt tight due to the air pressure slamming her lungs.
She touched her own body with trembling hands. Still intact. No missing limbs.
She turned to the side. Petrov fainted from shock, fresh blood flowing from his nose due to mild concussion, but his chest still rose and fell. He was still breathing.
"Damn it..." hissed Agatha, her voice sounding very far away in her own ears. "So... loud."
The car door above her head opened forcibly with the sound of hinges screeching damaged because bent.
Xavier jumped down. His face was tense, deadly pale. There was a small trickle of blood on his temple because his head hit the steering wheel when the car was hit by the explosion earlier. He ignored his pain and immediately pulled Agatha's shoulders, checking her pupils frantically.
"Agatha! Can you hear me?!" shouted Xavier, although to Agatha his voice sounded like a whisper underwater.
Agatha nodded weakly, trying to stand but her legs wobbled like jelly. "I... am okay. Just a little... deaf."
Xavier sighed long, pulling Agatha into a brief but very tight hug. The man's heart beat fast slamming against Agatha's chest.
"You crazy woman," whispered Xavier in her smoke-smelling hair. "Don't ever do that again."
Without wasting time, Xavier released his hug. He lifted Petrov's unconscious body with one hand like lifting a sack of rice, then pushed Agatha into the back seat of the car full of broken interior lamp glass.
"Get in! This car's structure is already weak, we can't take a second explosion!" ordered Xavier sharply. "Frans! Go!"
Frans, who was in the driver's seat with a pale face and slightly bleeding ears, immediately stepped on the gas pedal deeply.
"Ready, Boss! This car has become junk, but the engine is still a monster!"
The tough V12 engine roared in pain. Even though one tire was destroyed and the car body was severely crumpled, the Maybach kept moving limpingly, leaving the square now full of black smoke.
In the back seat, Agatha leaned her dizzy head against the leather seat. She tore off the bottom part of her red gown which was partly scorched so her legs could move freely. Her still trembling hands reached into the hidden pocket behind the gown, looking for something.
Agatha took out a Zippo lighter and a slightly dented cigarette.
Click. Click.
The fire lit up. Agatha inhaled the cigarette deeply, letting nicotine travel to her brain, soothing the trembling in her hands. She exhaled white smoke towards the cracked window.
Xavier immediately snatched the cigarette and threw it out the broken window.
Agatha snorted in annoyance, watching her expensive nicotine fix vanish into the wet asphalt, but a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"You are crazy, don't smoke," muttered Xavier from the front seat, his eyes staring at the rearview mirror, ensuring no pursuers. "Live bait? Really? If I was late by half a second, you would have been dust."
"I trust you," answered Agatha hoarsely, leaning back again. "I knew you wouldn't let me die. And I knew this car cost three million dollars for a reason."
"This car is junk now," complained Frans while slamming the steering wheel avoiding a hole, making the car shake violently. "My salary for a year won't be enough to fix this. Which insurance wants to cover damage due to 'mafia war'?"
"Focus, Frans," cut in Xavier coldly. "Get us to a safe point at the border. We switch vehicles there."
Agatha looked down, staring at Petrov who was still unconscious on the car floor. That traitor survived thanks to their madness.
"We go to Milan," said Agatha suddenly. Her voice was cold, sharp as a razor.
Xavier turned to the back. "Are you sure? We just almost died."
"Exactly," Agatha smiled faintly. A smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Luigi just tried to burn me. He must be celebrating his victory now, thinking I'm dead."
"It would be very impolite if we didn't show up to the party as surprise guests."
The battered black car limped through the rain, carrying three "ghosts" ready to haunt the Volskey family to hell.