by Combs, Sasha
Mot looked over his shoulder. He’d been silent, contemplating their next move. He assumed Sven interpreted his silence as a snub or a desire to be alone with Bianca. He called out to him.
“Sven... If we can’t find Henrik... Are you sure we won’t be able to mix an antidote?”
Sven turned to face him. His nearly white eyebrows rose, considering all possible options.
“The antidote isn’t the problem. As I said... In time, we could recreate the drug. But...I'm sure that this drug possesses a hidden combination. Something that would elude us. And that’s the key Mot. Without the complete formula, we won’t be able to create something that might counteract the drug. I could make something that might ease her symptoms... Then on the other hand, if I’m wrong, I could cause her symptoms to worsen.”
“Explain Sven. Why do you think this drugs formula won’t be easy to crack?”
“Designer drugs aren’t meant to be easy to recreate. If they were... They wouldn’t be designer drugs.”
“And you’re sure that that’s what they gave her. Something that was created for a specific purpose.”
“Yes. I’m certain. Greta and Henrik spoke repeatedly about a drug that one of their scientist created for them. It’s far more dangerous than a truth serum. This drug affects people on a subconscious level. It forces them to relax, and their responses are natural. They feel no inhibitions. They feel...free to say whatever is on their mind. I’ve observed Bianca and I’m sure that she was given this drug that they spoke about. I’d like to add.... When I create my formula’s... Every chain holds a secret, only I understand.” Sven stepped closer. Mot’s hands were flexed into fist; he didn’t like the feeling of helplessness. Sven said...
“Capture Henrik. Make him talk. If you get me that formula... I promise you... I can create a neutralizer to undo the harm they’ve done to her.”
It was dark. Nightfall covered the field like a blanket. It had been decided before he left, that Richard wouldn’t risk comprising their safe house. Instead, he would stay out on his own; using hotels or whatever lodgings he deemed necessary. Sven was rooted in one of the bedrooms, working out chemical formula’s. He wanted to construct a framework that would aid in building an antidote serum. He’d explained his theory to Mot but Sven’s words were a mishmash of scientific jargon. He’d nodded and left Sven to his own devises. In a short time, Mot had come to trust him. Before leaving, Richard had explained a great many things.
Sven had already agreed to leave the country with Richard, before he’d been abducted. A few days before they were to board a plane; Greta and Henrik approached Sven, offering him money in exchange for his brilliance. At the time, he knew very little about the pair but Sven saw no need to be rude. He listened thoughtfully, then declined their offer. Confused, Greta instructed Henrik to find out why Sven had refused them. It was then that she learned about Richard, the American operative. Greta wasted no time. A day later, Richard had gone missing. That’s when the crap hit the fan and Sven’s worse fears were being realized. Both Greta and Henrik were always at his side; keeping tabs on him. Their demands were words cleverly disguised as offers. He knew, if he worked for them, there would be no turning back. The people at their party confirmed his suspicions. They were all insanely rich and these people were also their customers. People with enough money to buy any kind of high that they wanted. Seeing Mot on the yacht, then Richard alive, at the safe house; Sven had cried. He explained that he would do whatever it took to help Bianca escape the clutches of the drugs injected in her body. Now, Mot sat silent in her room; keeping watch while she finally rest. He was pleased when she allowed him to tend to her wounds. His eyes had cautiously watched as she sipped down soup, spoon fed by his hand. Whenever they were alone, Bianca was a different person altogether. She would sing his name to a melody of notes he’d never heard before. Even now, she hummed, then sang his name. Sven had explained she was completely in a world where there were no boundaries. Colors were alive, sounds held shape and mass. Every word uttered from her lips held truth in her brain. Truth. He thought about the word, while considering this. If Sven was right; and he had no reason not to believe the man. Bianca had uttered words, like love and care. When he touched her, her dizzy eyes would fix on his face. When she smiled at him, he couldn’t stop his body from responding in a primal way. If she was in a world of truth...and not a place of lies and deception. If this was true... Then he had to conclude; Bianca was genuinely in love with him. He envied her this. Not the disheveled thoughts or the inability to speak and express herself clearly. He resented not being free to convey thoughts and emotions that lay buried deep within him. Far too long he’d harbored a thirst to arouse desires that yearned for her. Deep-seated and so profound; at times he’d willed himself not to look at her. He’d been compelled to do this because at the time he wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. Would he have told her how he felt, or would he have pulled her from her seat, embracing her in a passionate kiss? Far too long, he’d warred with intense feelings and now look where those emotions had got him. He’d requested her by name; telling Vance to send Bianca as his back up, even when his director explained that she wasn’t ready. He blamed his need for her, as the reason she lie, confused and unsure of the world outside of her brain.
Mot held himself personally accountable for so many things. Even though their mission had been successful.
“Successful, my ass.” He muttered.
Somehow, the truth did little by way of absolving him. He knew the rules of engagement forward and back. Following a series of strategies and procedures; they’d all performed their roles masterfully. The agents engaged their aggressors by employing their skills and training. As the senior most operative in the field, it had been his job to ensure the regress of three agents. And he did. If he were to believe the manuals, word for word; Mot was cleared of all blame. But why didn’t he feel blameless?
At the time, when he’d left the hotel; leaving Bianca asleep in his bed. Mot recalled a moment of clarity. He didn’t like the idea of Bianca on her own, dealing with Greta and Henrik, without him there, to watch her back. He’d stood at the foot of the bed, watching her while she slept soundly. His eyes had studied her, and he knew in that instant. She’d wedged open a door in his brain. She’d gotten in and he couldn’t get her out. In truth, he didn’t want her out of his head. That made leaving her painfully difficult. And he wouldn’t have left her, if he’d known the danger she would face. But he had not known; and for that... He blamed himself.
“Damn” He cursed the day he called, requesting her by name.
“Bianca...” He pleadingly said her name with such gentle care. “Forgive me.”
“Mot.” She whispered his name in her sleep.
Mot stood, because being so near her was too painful for him. He took up position near a window, facing a row of trees. He sought quiet contemplation. And he found it. Every person has an incident in their life that changes them. That change can be good or bad. Or the change can be from good to better. He turned back, seeing her while she lay asleep on the bed. Bianca had changed him. In his life as an agent, Mot had never twitched, when a decision had to be made. Yet, when the time had come to leave her... Mot had twitched. He’d hesitated. He’d questioned himself. For the first time, in all his years; before and after he’d joined The Agency. Never had he been unsure. Not until Bianca entered his life.
***************
Chapter 9
Mot woke from his sleep, hearing muffled whimpers, then his name. He lifted hurriedly from his chair, joining her at the side of her bed.
“Bianca... I’m here. Do you need something? Can I get you another glass of water?”
Whatever the drug was that poisoned her; Bianca’s thirst was difficult to quench. She smacked her lips, moving her tongue much like a person dueling with a cotton ball.
“Water?” She said, her wide eyes staring intently at his face. She brightened, seeing him. Reaching out, her arms wrapped aro
und his neck. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this. In fact, while Sven was in the room, she’d lurched forward, kissing Mot’s cheek, while aiming for his lips. All day, she’d been trying to get close to him in one way or another. But the one thing that was different this time; Mot didn’t avert her efforts. She beamed, not having her arms removed.
“No...” she said. “I’m not thirsty. I have you and I couldn’t ask for anything better.”
“Good.” He said, pleased that he’d mollified some of her infatuation. Or...was this an intense expression of her love? Every time he tried to downplay her affections; Sven’s voice would cause doubts to surface. The drug that gripped her wouldn’t allow Bianca to lie. Every word was true. As true as the fact that grass is green and her eyes are a reddish brown. He wondered if this recollection explained his reason for not stopping her from hugging him this time. Or maybe he was just tired of avoiding her kindness. He tilted his head to the side, then asked...
“The music... Do you still hear it?”
She’d been telling them about a song played by a piano. They all knew this was the drug messing with her mind but this didn’t stop him from being curious.
She trained her head to the side, as if actively listening. Her smile broadened and instantly he knew the answer.
“Yes...” she said airily and in that one word, he’d never heard anything sweeter. “It’s a beautiful song. I’ve only heard it once before but...it’s beautiful.”
“Where did you hear it Bianca?”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. She said...
“I don’t know... But it sounds familiar and that must mean that I’ve heard it before.”
Reasonable assumption, he thought. Perhaps her liver was finally doing its job; ridding her system of Greta’s toxins but when she opened her mouth; saying something completely off topic. Mot knew the drug was still clearly in charge.
“Your eyes... You have beautiful, beautiful green eyes.”
She leaned forward, pressing her lips above his right brow. Mot stood as still as a statue. Her warm breath shot tendrils across his face, the sensation fanning out, taking hold of his body. Something so simple as an innocent kiss had utterly shaken him off balance. Even when they’d been pretending to be lovers; Mot had had to will his body not to respond. Telling his lower half to ignore the sensation. That had been pure hell for him. Much like her kiss was currently making him feel.
When Bianca drew back, she smiled, while saying...
“I love looking at you. I love the way you sway more to the left when you walk.” Bianca laughed. Obviously, in her mental fog, she’d glimpsed a picture from the past.
“One day... While you walked with Vance, I thought you two would bump into each other.” Now she was giggling and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.
“So... I’m a comic. A butt of your jokes.”
She sighed heavily; angling her body closer to him.
“No one affects me in the same way as you. I think about you all the time. Since meeting you...I’ve thought of no other man. Only you occupy my thoughts. It’s you Mot. Only you in my brain.”
Too much truth, he thought to himself. Too much, yet not enough. He leaned in, daring himself to learn more. Unafraid to venture further.
“Why didn’t you say anything Bianca?”
“How could I? You never seemed to notice me.”
“But I did.” He supplied. “I noticed you and I could tell you a few things that lay heavy on my mind.”
“Do tell...” She laughed seductively. One eyebrow rose, and the expression slew him.
In this moment, he should have stopped but feeling her breast press against his chest. Feeling her nearness, he wanted more of this. Whatever this was. Mot wanted to be as honest as she was.
He cleared his throat, taking in a few cleansing breaths. Telling himself, there was no harm in sharing a few of his daydreams.
“Your neck...” He boldly said. Hearing his thoughts honestly spoken. This, liberated his tongue. “The slope of your neck and shoulder. It forms a delicate curve that flows down meeting your clavicle... That place... The angle is perfect for kissing. I think about that sometimes.”
He studied her face because her reaction had changed. Her response to his words affected her pupils. The large black hole narrowed, then closed to a pin point. It didn’t last long, but it had happened. It looked like recognition sparked a nerve; causing her to respond in this way. Hearing him describe her in a way that he’d never done before... His words had affected her and he wondered in what way? He was playing with fire but in these moments he didn’t care.
Bianca pulled back. Just enough to create a space between them. She lowered her head to the side; bringing her ear closer to her shoulder. That angle he’d just described. He didn’t have to form a mental picture because she was providing him with a live demonstration. She was giving him that place to plant his lips.
“You mean like this...” Her sultry voice whipped the wavering right out of him. He ignored the dubiety that seeded this impossible situation. Without thinking he raised his hand; placing it where his eye had singled out one spot. Extending one lone finger, he traced a line, starting behind her earlobe, ending just below her clavicle. The moan that hummed through her lips gripped him in places that stiffened his body. He screamed in his head, telling himself to stop because if they continued; he wouldn’t have the strength to recoil his wants, or douse his surging desire. But Bianca had other things in mind. She lifted his hand to her mouth, unfolding his fingers. Choosing one, she drew it in between moistened lips. Her eyes locked with his, as she sucked then twirled her tongue around his appendage. Her head and mouth mimicked other suggestive moves. Things other women had tried, even when he’d not wanted it. But Bianca... From her he would welcome the gentle wrap of her lips; her mouth taking him in...sheathing him. Every part of his body craved to be possessed by her kisses.
Along the side of his face, sweat dripped down his temple; the feel of moisture reminded him of torture. Other parts of his body weeped, leaking pre-fluids, and warning of more to come. What was she doing to him? Why wasn’t he stopping her? This was wrong on so many levels but his ambivalence couldn’t settle on one course of action. In any other situation; had he asked her to date him, more than likely this scene would be played out. Had they met at a party, then decided to go to either of their homes... Even in those scenarios, they could have fallen into each others arms. Bianca had repeatedly said his name and she’d told him that she cared about him. She’d reach out, forcing his hand to touch hers, even after he’d pulled away. When he’d evaded her, his concerns had been due to his attempts to protect her from herself. But there was something about Sven’s explanation. Something the Swede had said. In Bianca’s mind, she was simply acting out her true feelings. She was speaking and showing him all that lay hidden inside of her brain. All along, she’d been communicating sincere heartfelt emotions. In every way, she’d said that she loved him.
Mot withdrew his finger from her mouth. He watched as her lips parted, forming a luscious circle. Everything about this situation was open to question, and that’s what befuddled him. How could he talk to her? What could he say, especially when he wanted her as much as she obviously wanted him? This was all new territory for him. He had never experienced a predicament quite like this before and he hoped this would be his last fork in the road.
“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Bianca had just said the first clear sentence in hours. The words broke into his musing. He nodded, saying...
“Yes... I’m worried Bianca.”
“Don’t be... I want this. I want to be with you. I’ve wanted this for a very long time. I promise you... I won’t regret this tomorrow.”
“Bianca...” He begged. He wanted to tell her, how could she know what she would regret. He doubted if she even knew what day it was. He questioned if she even knew that there would be a tomorrow. But when he stared into her eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to
contradict her. Because truthfully, he believed that she was having a rational moment and at some point, she’d already imagined this chain of events.
“Bianca...” Mot said her name in a loving way. “If we’re to be together... I want to know that you really know why we’re together.”
“What makes you think that I don’t know now? I want to be with you Mot.”
“My name...” He stopped himself. She knew him as an agent, and that’s all she knew about him. Then he asked himself... What does he know about her? He’d read her file. He knew about her talents and he knew Vance’s reasons for recruiting her. But what did she know about him? Nothing. He finally admitted. She didn’t even know his real name. He felt his body stiffen while grasping hold of her wrist. He uncoiled her hold, placing her arms at her side.
