Smooth Operator.

20. Close Call

CHAPTER TWENTY
CLOSE CALL

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GOOD NEWS, LEMON HAD FIGURED OUT HOW TO GET THE TRAIN RUNNING AGAIN; BAD NEWS, IF FRUIT SQUASHING CATS WAS POSSIBLE, IT HAD HAPPENED. Faces inches apart, eyes wide in embarrassment and surprise. Tangerine malfunctioned for a moment, taken so strongly by surprise's tight grasp that he didn't think straight away to pull himself off of Estela and help her to her own feet.

Reacting quickly as they fell, Tangerine's hand shot to the back of Estela's head, in order to protect it from the incoming blow of the ground.

A gasp brushed past Estela's lips as she collided with the floor, and the weight of Tangerine's body fell on hers. Her eyes widened, jaw dropped slack. The distance between their faces was so small, you would barely even need a car to cross the line for them to join.

"You've been watching too many romance dramas," Estela stated airily, saying the first thing that came to mind, the air from her lungs still winded out from her fall.

For a moment, Tangerine's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but then his pale eyes trailed over to his hand that shielded Estela's head from any bad damage. "Oh," was all he replied with.

Another beat passed, one where Estela gazed up at him expectantly with her deep doe eyes, and Tangerine looked down at her, completely brain-dead.

"Are you going to get up or are you stuck there, Tangerine?"

The use of his codename pricked the assassin out of his trance and he carefully began to move himself up, pulling Estela into a seated position and removing his hand from the back of his head.

His regard lingered upon her a moment more, and he looked away, jaw clenching and gulping nerves down his throat. He relocated the soldier's Dracos, which had been strewn someplace down the aisle as they were let go in surprise, and returned one to The Black Cat's grasp.

With one final united nod, they were off down the train, stepping angrily through the middle aisle. Any sign of movement was brutally shot at, even if it were just debris, but most of the time a White Death soldier.

Gunfire graced the air in its notorious ear-splitting manner, shooting puffs of red, white and yellow, used bullet shells flying from the magazine.

Body after body, death after death.

Black Cat was certain they hadn't shot every soldier just yet, and not every soldier had been taken down by the other allies, but they were certainly doing well.

And she was right.

As she stepped out into the next gangway, Draco held ahead of her as she scoped her surroundings, her footing came unsteady once again as she was knocked off her feet.

This new weapon appeared quickly, knocking her firearm from her grip from beneath, and Estela had to dodge swiftly so it didn't sock her in the nose.

Agilely, she was about to roll out of the way, but the White Death henchman was way ahead of her, ramming into her like a juggernaut into the clamped-shut Shinkansen door.

Now with the wind knocked from her, Estela struggled to react straight away, but when she brought her arms up to push back, the close weapon glinted in the light beneath Estela's eyes, and her instincts turned on almost immediately.

With a roar, Estela drove her knee into the henchman's groin, and used their momentary weakness and surprise to shove him back.

Just as the man bounced back, maintaining a dangerous side stance, dagger twirling between his fingers as if challenging her, a gun shot rang throughout the carriage. The dagger clattered to the ground with a certain fragility, as if it had lost its power and significance, its owner dropping to his knees to follow.

Tangerine stepped through the door, entering the gangway, Draco sat snug within his veiny hands. He sniffed dismissively, his great moustache twitching slightly, and he stepped over the now-lifeless body as if it were light work to induce a quick-timed death.

As he continued into the next carriage, he cast a soft glance in Estela's direction, but didn't say anything.

Train still zooming down its track, sunlight spilled through the window in the door behind The Black Cat. On the ground, the light blinked against the discarded dagger. The woman crouched down, taking the hilt in her grasp, and sliding it down the side of her boot, against her ankle. This could come in handy.

But Estela never got the chance to stand up again, for the Shinkansen roared, and all came crashing down.