Secret Silver | hiatus

xxii. secret silver

Micro earpiece for communication. Watch on my right wrist that told not only the time, but had different screens for tracking each other and for calling in backup. Gun strapped to waist alongside my switchblade and one right above my right ankle. In my bag: another knife concealed as a bottle of hand lotion, chloroform perfume in case of emergencies, blank swipe cards to create passes for confidential areas, and a pack of gum. Just regular spearmint gum.

It was safe to say that I was physically ready for the day ahead. Although I'd spent only a couple of weeks training for this moment, it felt as if I'd trained for it my entire life. All of the combat and mental training throughout my twenty years of life would be put to the ultimate test on this day.

I was leaning against a black limousine, a German driver's license in my hand. Natasha Schwartz, twenty-five, 145 pounds. After some digging around, we learned that Natasha and her husband, Alexander, worked for the German embassy, only two of many employees who were invited to the ceremony. Among them: Kevin, Alice, Gerald, and Richard. For tonight: Oliver, Lucy, Thomas, and Lucas, respectively.

"Your eyes are blue again," commented Silas as he strolled towards me. He'd traded in his thick glasses for brown contact lenses, which concealed the green eyes I'd grown accustomed to, and his curls were now short. His body was gracing the tuxedo he'd tried on, red tie matching the color of the mask in my hand. His comment took me back to the day I'd attacked him outside Mr. Miller's, when I'd worn the contacts to ensure that my identity was hidden from him. Oh, the irony.

"And yours are brown," I retorted as he shook his head, laughing lightly. Without his glasses, Silas looked much older. Mature. His boyish features had become rugged, home to scars that were not there before I'd met him. His otherwise fresh eyes had bags underneath them, and his jawline seemed sharper, thinner due to the amount he'd been working out.

Silas didn't have time to respond. Behind him followed Lucas, Lucy, and Oliver. Thomas was nowhere to be seen. We'd landed in Germany an hour ago, and although I'd been to the country many times before for missions, this time felt different. This time, I didn't know if I'd ever return.

"Where's your brother?" I directed the question towards Lucy, who placed her hands on her hips, the purple material wrinkling slightly under her touch. Her dark lipstick emphasized her full lips. Her eyes were not concealed. Instead, she wore a blonde wig, which suited her pale complexion.

She looked at her father nervously. Lucas stepped forward, adjusting his black tie. "He..." he cleared his throat, clearly ashamed of his words, "he left after we got off of the airplane. He said he didn't want to be a part of this."

Oliver, muttering some profanities and rolling his eyes, strode over to mine and Silas's side. His jet black hair was spiked up with gel, dark brown eyes pretending to be green for the day.  He adjusted his cuffs as he spoke, "Maybe it's for the best."

Once we'd all boarded the limo, I settled back, fishing through my bag to feel for the journal and box. After my fingers brushed their surfaces, I eased back into the seat between Oliver and Silas.

"Once we get there, blend in. I can't stress it enough. Don't fall behind a crowd or in front. Stay in the middle. They'll be expecting some type of disturbance."

Everyone's eyes were on me as I did what I do best: take control. Although we'd rehearsed the entire plan a dozen times, it didn't hurt to refresh everyone's minds.

"They'll ask for ID at the entrance, right Lucas?" He had the most information about what was happening inside the ceremony from his mole, Henry.

The older man nodded. "Yes. Tonight, we are these identities." He held up his fake ID. "No slip-ups."