Smooth Operator.

25. Taxi

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
TAXI

———

WITH A SIGH, ESTELA ENDED THE CALL. She looked up into the mirror, at her reflection; she'd certainly seen better days, but with the limited resources, she was looking okay – in her navy jumper and black skirt Lemon'd provided her with, and some Mary Janes she had to go to her own lengths for, but still fortunately had.

Phone screen flickering back to the contact profile, her eyes scanned the number of her handler, who kept Black Cat's missions in check, of which she'd memorised after working so long under their care.

She ran her free hand through her black curls and let out a shaky breath.

Never before had she been so nervous – so gutted – to walk away from a mission. So many characters, both strange and intriguing, had crossed her path; and she'd been faced with so many odd scenarios she could never before imagine.

Just think! How on earth could one predict having to perform a surgery on a moving bullet train, on someone with a bullet in their neck, and somehow having it successfully worked. And nor could she imagine being holed up in a Japanese motel with two British fruits as a result of everything that had happened.

With one final glance at herself, Estela turned around and exited the bathroom, clicking the light off behind her.

Further in the room, Tangerine and Lemon sat at the foot of each bed; the former's eyes glued to the phone in his hand, tapping away aggressively, whilst the latter watched the children's cartoon on the small telly.

"My ticket's sorted," she announced to the room, causing both sets of eyes to glance up at her.

Tangerine let out a long breath, his lips tugging into a thin line. He had changed out of his jeans and into something more embellished; a black suit, fitted with a satin-backed matching waistcoat, and a scarlet tie tucked beneath his collar.

"Then we're off!" Lemon grinned, abruptly standing up, and turning off the tv. "The taxi should be here in, like..." he looks down at the watch on his wrist. "Not sure. Soon."

He sent his brother and Black Cat a prompt nod and walked out of the motel room, to wait outside for the taxi to show up.

Eyes lingering on the blackened screen, Tangerine's jaw clenched. His fingers clamped down on his knees to a point where his knuckles began to grow white.

"You okay?" Estela asked, voice soft.

Flinching, Tangerine hummed, his gaze moving from the abyss to the girl who had spoken. "Hm? Oh– yeah, all good."

Estela nodded, although his tone was not convincing at all.

"You sure? You seem... pensive."

The man shrugged, removing his gaze once again. "Just.." His bottom lip began to jut out slightly. "Just feeling weird, in a sense, about ending it all." A soft laugh brushed past his lips. "You know what I mean?"

The girl began to smile, and nodded again. "Yeah, I get it. Like, I took a bullet out your neck only a few days ago, and now you're dropping me off at the train station, and I probably won't ever see you again."

"If you're lucky," Tangerine teased. His smile lingered for a few moments before withering. "Yeah, I'm never stepping on a train again. There are other means of transport, anyway."

A couple knocks rattled against the door, and Lemon opened up from the outside. "The taxi's here!"