Kirsten felt Mark slipped out of bed silently a couple of hours before the sun broke through the velvety night. She heard the sounds of fabric sliding against skin as he pulled on his clothes and stuff the rest into the suitcase. There was an almost inaudible clonk as he shut his suitcase. She took a deep breath and exhaled in a small groan as she turned to lie on her back.

“Kirs?” Mark whispered, moving closer to the bed.

Kirsten mumbled something before turning her head toward the source of the voice.

“I gotta go now, babe,” Mark whispered, dropping a few kisses on her forehead. He waited as Kirsten opened her eyes slowly. “I’m going now.”

“Mark…” Kirsten whispered. “Will I see you again?”

“Sure you will!” Mark chuckled.

“But when?”

“Soon, baby, soon. Probably in about a few weeks’ time. In the meantime, take care, yeah?”

“You too, Mark.”

Mark leant in and gave her a goodbye kiss. Sleepy as she was, Kirsten was able to respond to the kiss quite well. Mark was impressed. “Well, I’m off.”

“Goodbye.”

 

~~ecaf~~

 

Mark gave a few brisk raps on the door before opening it to reveal Simon seating on the high-back black leather swivel chair placed behind a polished mahogany desk. His office was always very immaculate, spotless with all the files and documents in the place where they’re supposed to be. His desk was always cleared of things, except for the computer screen and a penholder and some paperweights.

“Mark, Ben,” Simon said, leaning back on his chair as he intertwined the fingers on his left with his right. “It’s good to know that you’re both on time.” He nodded toward Mark. “Especially when one of you weren’t home.” Simon grinned.

Mark chuckled sheepishly.

Until this day, Simon just couldn’t believe how innocent Mark still looked, how easy-going this guy was, how his face broke into a smile when he saw someone that he knew or recognised, how he’s able to just grin like any normal person. One would’ve think that assassins don’t actually smile or laugh. People tend to think of them as grim, serious people who are dedicated to their jobs.

There were several things that set Mark and Ben apart from the other assassins. While other assassins have this dead serious look on them, Mark and Ben were just normal. They were quick to smile, grin and laugh with everyone but when it comes down to those they were ordered to assassinate, they could just finish them off in cold blood.

And that’s why Simon just loved them. No one would ever suspect that Ben and Mark were assassins. Never in their life would anyone think of those two as assassins. They just didn’t have any of those “assassin looks” with them to make others suspicious of their profession. In other words, they were able to cover their tracks very well, disguise their true self behind the masquerade they put on when they went out to the public.

“And now,” Simon handed two black folders to the two young men seated before him, the mahogany desk being the only thing that served as a barrier. “In the file, you’ll be able to find the address of Fjellmen’s current lodging, his current name, some detailed maps of the places he visits in Canada and the area around his lodging, the people he’s hanging around with and those he’s doing business with.

“Also in the file, you’ll find your flight tickets and instructions on how you’ll be able to get in contact with my men in Canada for the weapons that you’ll need. If something goes wrong, you’ll have to get to them and they’ll help you escape. And I’m sure you know that you’re not supposed to have any contact with me at all when you’re on this mission, as always.”

“Okay, this sounds good enough for me,” Ben said, closing the file in a snap.

“Yep.” Mark nodded as he too closed his file. “I think we’re okay with this, but one question.”

“Yes, Mark?”

“Why Carey Lewis Davidson?”

Simon laughed. “Well, he wants it to be. How am I supposed to know why?”

“It sounds American enough though,” Ben butted in.

“Sure does.” Mark nodded toward Simon again. “We’re off now, Si.”

“Take care, will you? I don’t think I can afford to lose you both.”

“We will, Si, we will,” Ben said.

 

“This is just swell,” Mark muttered as he sat down next to Ben in the first-class section. “A flipping flight to Canada that’s gonna take half a day.”

“It ain’t that long, Mark.” Ben settled into the posh seat and tried to get himself comfortable before fastening his seatbelt. “Just learn to enjoy a flight, would you?”

Mark grunted something inaudible before reaching into the bag that contained the things that they thought they might need during that long journey to Canada. He took out a mini-disc player and dug through the bag again, searching for the disc that he’d want to play in the player after the plane took off.

Mark felt bored out of his skull throughout the whole flight. Ben had trade his contact lenses for his glasses and was contentedly watching the in-flight movie at the moment. Mark had been watching nearly all the exciting movies and now, there seemed to be nothing left for him to watch. But what about games?

Yes, that might do the trick! The games might keep Mark preoccupied. He glanced at his watch: 5 hours and 37 minutes to go. Yeah, games might just work.

But just when he was about to plug into the in-flight games, Ben sighed and nudged Mark.

“What?” Mark snarled.

“You don’t have to be that mean, you know,” Ben retorted.

“Alright, alright.” Mark inhaled deeply. “What do you want, Ben?”

“I was thinking about blackjack. How about some blackjack, yeah?”

“Now, that isn’t such a bad idea, considering that it came from you.”

“Hey!” Ben snapped. “So, what do you say? Blackjack?”

“Blackjack it is,” Mark said as he bent down and grabbed the bag near his feet and rummaged through it, searching for the deck of cards that they threw in together with the MD players and the MDs.

Ben took the deck from Mark as soon as Mark straightened up. “I’ll be the banker,” he offered.

“Great. And how much do we bet?” Mark questioned as Ben shuffled the deck, cut them into two, mixed them up alternately and shuffled some more.

“Lowest bet, one quid, highest would be five quid.”

“Playing doubles, yeah?” Mark asked.

“Yep, if I get two sevens, you’ll have to pay me double the amount I’ve bet on.”

“Good.”

Mark pulled out the folded table from the seat’s handle and placed £3 on his side of the table. Ben put down the same amount.

Ben started giving out the cards. One of Mark’s cards was a ten. One of Ben’s was an ace. Could Ben win?

Warily, Mark peered at the corner of the other card. A two. That’s not too bad. Ben held out the remaining of the deck to him, looking at him expectantly. Mark took out and peered at it again. A three. The total’s just fifteen! He took another. An ace. That made sixteen. He wanted to continue on playing. There’s no way he’s going to beat Ben with a sixteen! He flipped open the four cards in hand and watched in delight as Ben’s eyes widened. Mark motioned for the deck again, watching Ben’s facial expression closely. Ben’s mouth dropped when Mark took another card from the deck and it’s a four.

“That’s five cards, Ben and I haven’t burst yet.” Mark grinned.

“On our first game? You earn yourself six quid already.”

“I know.” Mark’s grin widened.

Ben took out his wallet and pulled out £6 and handed them out to Mark.

They managed to keep the game going for more than two hours before both got tired of it. Actually, it was Ben who requested the game to be stopped. He’d been losing and Mark just kept winning. Mark then went on talking about feng shui but Ben thought that it was just total crap.

“Do you think we’ll get Fjellmen?” Ben asked as he kept the cards in the case and put the case back into the bag.

“I dunno. I guess so. It shouldn’t be that hard now, would it?” Mark asked.

“I guess. But don’t we, like, need a plan?”

“Plan? How are we gonna plan here?” Mark studied Ben’s dazed expression. Sometimes, Benjamin Stephens Adams was just as dense as a rock. “Tell you what, it’s best to get him when he least expects us.”

“I know that.” Ben looked out of the window and studied the clouds. “But how do we know when he least expects us? What with Alejandro on the loose?”

“Alejandro, Alejandro, Alejandro.” Mark dismissed the name. “He wouldn’t know now, would he? We’re the professional guys, not him! There’s absolutely no way he’s smarter than us in this business that we’re in. We’ve had done half the cases more than his, you know.”

“But don’t you think he’ll know what we’re gonna do? When we’re gonna do what we do?” Ben asked. “After all, he’s been with us for quite some years to at least some secrets about us that Fjellmen doesn’t have a clue about. He might know how we do what we do.”

“Relax, Ben!” Mark chuckled. “He might be in London at the moment, doing a wild-goose chase on his own, thinking that he might just get us. Imagine how frustrated he would be when he realized how he’s actually this close – ” Mark held his thumb and forefinger less than a centimeter apart. “ – In finding us but it never happened. And when he realised about it, we’re already nearly halfway across the globe from where he is.” Mark’s eyes lit up from that thought. The corners of his lips curled in, forming a cold smile.

Ben chuckled a bit. “I guess you’re right.”

When they landed in Canada, they went to collect their luggage before walking around the waiting lounge of the airport, trying to look for a man in white t-shirt and blue jeans with a cowboy hat in his left hand. Ben nudged Mark as soon as he saw the figure they were looking for.

 

~~ecaf~~

 

“How could you say such a thing?” Kirsten shouted at him.

Christian clenched and unclenched his right hand. “Because I know, Kirs. I know.”

“What do you mean by you know?” Kirsten asked angrily as she sat herself down on Christian’s desk in his room. “What do you mean by you know?” she demanded.

“I know everything about Mark.”

“What do you mean by “everything about Mark”? You only met him once and now you’re telling me that you hate him?” Kirsten slammed her hand on the desk. “How could you?” she hissed as she stared searchingly at her brother’s eyes; eyes identical to hers.

Christian returned her gaze. He’s never been afraid of his fiery twin. They’re nearly the same in every way; tempers, habits, everything.

Kirsten saw the answer in Christian’s eyes even before he told her a thing. “You did a check on him, didn’t you? You bastard!” she balled her hands and punched her brother repeatedly on the shoulder.

He didn’t even move as his shoulder received punch after punch from his sister. “I need to know whether he’s good enough for you.” He reasoned.

“Good enough for me?!” Kristen shrieked. “What do you mean by good enough for me? You never did check on the others… why now? Why Mark?”

“Because I don’t want you to go through what you went through before Mark!” Christian shouted back at her as he whirled around and caught her wrists when she was about to go back for more punches.

“How would you know how I felt all those time?” Kirsten shouted back at him, tears making their way down slowly on her pale cheeks, tinged with a slight blush from her anger. “How would you know?” she crumpled into the large one-seater by the fireplace and pulled her legs up to her chest.

“I just know.” He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. “We should have one of those… what, connection thingy that twins have. I know how you feel; I could feel your pain.”

“Like hell you can!” Kirsten whipped up from the one-seater to face Christian. “Like hell you can,” she muttered. “You don’t know. You won’t know. Besides, we’re not identical twins. Do you even need me to teach you Biology?”

Christian smiled wanly at her. “No. I’m perfectly good in that department, in fact.” Pause. “But we do look quite alike, don’t we?”

Kirsten sat down again, her face blank, tears streaming hopelessly down her cheeks, her eyes staring – staring at nothing. Empty eyes, looking at nothing in particular; didn’t know what to look at even.

“Kirs, you have to understand, I…”

But Christian was cut off by another remark from Kirsten that nearly sliced his heart into a million pieces.

“Understand what? Understand what, you bastard?” Kirsten seethed as she spoke through her teeth, her jaws ground together. “What am I supposed to understand? You can’t even help yourself when it comes to love, what makes you think you could help me? What makes you think you even have the right?!”

Her gaze dropped as she sat back down on the settee, the lucidity of her gaze gone and her expression became vacant again.

“You think I like having so many guys? You think I like having so many of them in my bed for all these years? I was just hoping that Mark would be the one. I was wishing that there’d be no other apart from him. I’m just sick of losing all those that I thought was truly the one I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with.”

Christian was quiet and stood still behind the settee, watching his sister battling the anger in her. It was his entire fault anyway. He shouldn’t have brought up that subject in the first place. Hell, he shouldn’t even have run that check on Mark; shouldn’t have pried into his life like some maniac. He should’ve just trust Kirsten.

But how could he trust her when it comes to men? Look at the 20-odd men that she’s been on and off with. None of them stayed, none of them were useful in any way.

He sighed inwardly. Life was just cruel; but deep down inside he knew life was kind as well. All they have to do was wait – maybe Kirsten would find the love of her live in the end. Maybe she wouldn’t have to suffer all those sorrows after all.

Christian sat himself down on the settee’s arm and looked down at his sister’s blond head. She had buried her face in between her knees that were pulled tightly against her chest. She’d curled herself into a tiny little ball again – or at least, she tried to. Christian could remember the times when they’re younger and she’d done the same thing – curl herself up into a ball and cry.

He put his hands oh her shoulders. “Kirs…”

“Don’t even say a thing to me,” he heard Kirsten mumbled from between her sobs. “Just let me die here and wallow in my one-sided love for Mark.”

“How could you even be so sure it’s one-sided?” Christian asked softly, gathering her in his arms. He started this; he should try to end this. If he didn’t even try a single effort, he’s an extremely horrible brother to her.

“You said that he’s not good enough for me.”

“I never said that,” Christian whispered.”

“Liar! You did that check because you wanna know whether he’s good enough for me or not.”

“I didn’t m…”

“Liar!”

Christian felt a stinging pain on his cheek. It took him a while to register that she’d slapped him. He raised his hand to his burning cheek.

“Stay away from me from now on, Christian Ingebrigtsen. I don’t know what I’ve done to you until I actually deserve this from my own brother – the one brother that I love all through these years. Ever since the day we were born, I have come to love you. I have learnt to look out for you, as you would have for me. I came to trust you as much as how a sister would trust her brother. But no, because of this incident, you ruined it all. You ruined it all!”

Kirsten stormed out of the room, leaving Christian to contemplate on this major argument he had with his sister – the first major argument he’d ever had with his sister since the very first minute they were born.