Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty

Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty
“Just how much haven’t you told me?” she says in aggravation.

“A lot. I planned on filling you in when it was all over. You know I hate talking about my jobs while I’m in the middle of them,” I groan.

“Well, tough. Dasha Hatzis, as your mother, I have a right to know if you’re making such dangerous decisions like going to The Tournament for help,” she says incredulously.

“Glad I’m not the only one who thinks what she did was stupid,” Silas mutters.

“That’s enough from the peanut gallery,” I snap.

“No, no. On this, I am with Silas. Why in heaven’s name would you go to them?”

“Because who the hell better to ask about specific assassins than the organisation keeping tabs on them? My plan worked great, and we even had a lead.”

“Until Dasha killed him,” Silas adds.

I slap my hands at my sides in aggravation, “Are you seriously throwing me under the bus right now just to suck up to my mother?”

“I’m just stating the facts. You did kill him,” Silas shrugs.

“He tried to kill me first!”

Mother rubs her temples in slow circles. “I think I’m starting to see why you prefer to wait until after a job is complete to fill me in. So, who is this assassin you’re after?”

“He goes by Sathariel. Have you heard of him?”

Recognition dawns on my mother’s face. “Sathariel? Are you sure?”

“So, you have heard of him,” Silas says with interest as he comes to stand beside me. Oh, so now he’s Team Dasha. Kiss ass.

“Of course, I have. We competed in The Tournament together a couple of times. He won each time. He was the one who set you two up?” Shock and confusion are clear in her voice.

We nod in unison. “Set us and many others up as well. We are just fortunate to still be breathing. What can you tell us about him? Maybe you can help us build a composite sketch of him, so we know what he looks like,” I say hopefully, but my hopes are dashed when Mother shakes her head.

“I wish I could. But I never saw his face,” she says regrettably.

“How is that possible?” Silas says dubiously, folding his arms over his chest.

“You can direct that tone elsewhere. Unlike the other competitors, Sathariel never showed his face. I know it’s customary during the meet and greet, and moments between rounds where all competitors are confined together, but he refused to show his face. Anonymity was his greatest weapon, and he held to it tightly. I never even heard him speak. He would keep to himself, never interacting, just observing everyone carefully and quietly. It always unsettled me. At one point I got paranoid and thought maybe he was the Master of Ceremonies hiding among us in disguise to see if we broke the rules, but I dismissed that fast. It just became clear that he saw everyone for what they were: competitors, and he treated them as such. While everyone was trying to stay alive, he was busy studying us. I swear sometimes it felt like his eyes were looking right through me.” Her body lets out a shudder that rolls from head to toe.

Clearly, from their limited – bordering on non-existent – interactions, he left a lasting impression. Honestly, everything Mother is saying lines up with what Ulrich said. Cold, calculating, and studied other assassins MO’s in order to use them. He was probably studying them in case he had to go head to head with any of them, or to use their skills as soon as he got out. Oddly enough, I find this comforting. It means everything Ulrich said was the truth.

Mother walks over to the whiteboard and examines some of the papers Silas has stuck back to the board, but she seems to be the most interested in the names of the men Silas and I interacted with.

“Something wrong? I ask.

“Whose names are these?”

“Raul was the man I met with, and Armand was the man Dasha met with,” Silas answers.

“Different men?” she asks in confusion.

I nod, “Yes. We described them to each other, and they had nothing in common regarding descriptions. Why does that seem to confuse you?”

“Because these names are anagrams,” she says, pointing to the names written on the board.

“What?!” Silas and I both shout, rushing over and staring at the names.

“Honestly, Dasha, I’m disappointed a woman as intelligent as you missed it. Raul Miarganda has the exact same letters as Armand Aguilar.”

I stare at the names, my eyes slowly blowing wide as I realise she’s right. Each name is a perfect anagram of the other! That can’t be a coincidence, surely.

Mother looks around, picks up the whiteboard marker from the floor and begins to write down letters, crossing out others as she goes. After a few tries, she manages to come up with a brand new name: Lamar Guardian.

“I always did like puzzles,” she muses.

“I can’t believe that’s been staring us in the face this whole time,” Silas says in quiet disbelief.

“Well, I can understand why someone like you would miss it,” she says mockingly. “I’m more surprised my Dasha missed it.”

“Now that you’re pointing it out, it seems so obvious. I guess we were so thrown by the two men being so different that it never occurred to us that the names would have anything in common, especially since the names themselves got us nowhere.”

“Now you have a new name to look for.”

“Excuse me, I have a phone call to make,” says Silas, making his way to my office, probably to harass his Interpol contact again.

“Thank you, this was all really helpful,” I say appreciatively.

“Maybe from now on you’ll come to your mother first? Dasha, I accept that you are a grown woman, and I apologise if you feel I’m overbearing. But given this and recent events, can you maybe try to understand that I just worry about you and just want to be there for you and keep you safe? I respect that you chose this life just as I did, but that doesn’t mean the thought of something happening to you is any easier,” she says gently.

I sigh, as feelings of guilt wash over me. I was just telling myself that my brain had more cooking to do, and here my mother is once again proving that right. I was so determined to figure this out on my own I overlooked the best resource I have: my mother. She has been through so much, and she still manages to keep her grace and dignity. God knows she’s already putting poor Silas through his paces, but he might deserve that at the moment. At the end of the day, I’ve made a few bad decisions that might have been avoided if I’d just confided in my mother instead of trying to prove I can stand on my own. I can stand on my own, but there’s nothing wrong with leaning on your mother for support, especially one as badass as mine.

I wrap my arms around my mother, hugging her tight and breathing in her herbaceous and zesty perfume. “I love you, mamma. I’m sorry I can be too stubborn for my own good sometimes. I know you only ever mean well.”

She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tight as she tenderly strokes my hair, “You could become the most feared assassin in the world, and I would still worry about you and want to protect you. I love you more than anything in this world, and I am so proud of everything you have accomplished, but I need you to know that I will always be here for you. No matter what, you can always turn to me,” she assures me, placing a soft lingering kiss on my forehead.

“I’m guessing asking you to go easy on Silas, would be pointless, huh?”

“If he can’t handle a little attitude from me, then he’s in the wrong profession,” she scoffs.

“You know, he’s actually a big fan of yours and Nonna’s work,” I point out slyly.

She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, “Is that so? Well, I suppose I could tone it down a little. I’d hate to disappoint a fan,” she smirks.

I chuckle and bury myself in her embrace. In the last few days I’ve realised I still have a lot to learn, but I hope with time I can prove myself to be as wise a woman as my mother and the women before her, and if I ever have a daughter, I hope I can guide her and teach her to learn from my mistakes. But who knows what the future holds? For now, taking comfort in my mother’s arms is just what the doctor ordered.