Under Covers

fifteen | vienna

A/N: Y'all, buckle up — this is of my fav chapters of the book, wink wink. xoxo Ami

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fifteen | vienna

the oldest zoo in the world that still exists today can be found in Vienna; constructed in 1782 by Emperor Francis Stephen of Lorraine, the menagerie held an exotic collection of captive animals for the royal family to admire

JAKE

May 8th, 13:11 (GMT +2)
7 days until it happens

"YOU STUPID BITCH-ASS motherfucking son of a bitch-ass motherfucking cunt!"

The bloody foul mouth on this one, I tell you...

After she mugged me off last night and smeared a steaming pile of shite all over MI6's public image, Chief Mills himself gave me a right nasty chewing out. If it wasn't for a decorated list of past accolades and my nearly perfect case-resolution statistics, I probably would've been sacked. As it is, I had to lather on a mountain of charm to persuade them to keep me on the mission. A rogue foreign agent with a vendetta, I explained. I'll take care of it.

And that's not to mention the bloody thrashing my father called to lash me with this morning. A disgrace to the family name. Contemptible. When I was out in the field, I never, not once, ever made myself look so bloody foolish. No, of course not. Even if he threw a fucking grenade at it, butter wouldn't melt.

As I shove Rayna into a high-security holding cell in the basement of the British embassy in Vienna, she savages me with an expression of such vile hatred that a rivet of heat tightens my gut.

There's a toilet, a sink, and a chair. Everything is drab and grey. A camera is fixed to a corner of the ceiling. The squeaky metal cot is nailed into the cement floor; I release her handcuffs but shackle one of her ankles to the bed's bottom rail with a long chain, like a feral dog.

I'm taking care of it, just as I promised.

"You can't keep me here," she threatens, her arms crossed sullenly over her ample chest. (I let her throw on a shirt before we left her hotel room, in case you were wondering.) "It's a violation of my rights. My government will sue your fucking ass."

"You drugged a federal agent of the crown," I remind her flatly. "We have the right to detain you for questioning."

With an angry sound – something between a purr and a growl and a whine, bloody adorable, really – she pounces at me, but I take a few steps back towards the entrance and her cuffed foot jangles and jerks, keeping her stuck right where she is.

She practically snarls at me. I gift her my most charming grin. "Try not to have too much fun, now," I warn, just to rub it in. A vulgar string of Arabic obscenities insulting me and my mother and my father and my sisters and every other conceivable relative rips after me as I take my leave.

Once the door is locked safe and sound with her trapped behind it, I make a trip to the control room down the corridor. There are two chaps from MI5 monitoring the security cams today, Derek and Hasan. "Keep a sharp eye on this one, yeah? She's bloody shifty."

"Bloody fit, she is," Derek counters with a wide, slanted smile.

"We'll keep a very close eye on her, mate," Hasan agrees.

My jaw ticks. For some indecipherable reason, their enthusiasm is irksome.

Gruff, I tell them, "Ring if there's a problem, alright? I've got to dash."