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  Jake Muller x Reader
Chapter VII

Year: 2012
    Age: 18
    Country of Edonia



    “I don’t know what Slavko is thinking, but turning people into mindless killing machines is not going to save the country!” You hissed into the phone, your anger slowly but surely slipping out of control.

    “Don’t you think I know that?!” Sounded your uncle's laid-back voice from the other end of the call. “But these are his orders, and we know better than to disobey him.”

    You rolled your eyes in frustration and shook your head. You glanced down at the two bodies that lied lifelessly at your feet. Despite the mutation that had disfigured their appearance, you recognized the faces behind the deformity all too well.

    Jakov and Nikola. Your uncle’s fellow mercenaries and poker buddies.

    “Yeah, but… they were his men! They worked under his command! Why turn them into… I don’t know, some… freaking monsters?!” Because that is what they looked like… monsters. Their eyes had looked so empty, their infected bodies had swayed limply as they had dragged their feet in your direction. They had opened their hungry mouths, eager to feed on a fresh, living body, before they dropped dead by two fiery bullets from the barrel of your gun to their cold, vacuous skulls.

    “You don’t know them on a personal level, so why so worked up about it?” Asked the man.

    You sighed. You couldn’t deal with his ever-nonchalant attitude. “True. But you did. You knew them. And I… I just killed them!”

    A long pause lapsed, and for a second you wondered what kind of an expression had mounted your uncle’s countenance after listening to what you had just said. Yet again, you knew, without even having to see his face, that he was looking as impassive as he ever was. His response came soon after: “You were just defending yourself.”

    “But-“

    “It was their choice. They took the dose themselves. No one forced them into it.”

    You huffed, irritation rising again in your tone: “They thought it was some kind of energy booster! Next thing they know, it’s a freaking virus!”

    “Shhh! You know this is confidential, right? Quiet down.” He chided over the phone. “And there’s something that you need to understand. Using Bio-organic weapons has helped the Liberation Army more than anything else that we have tried already. Our troops are stronger now than ever before. At least now we can say that we have a chance.”

    You sealed your lips shut and closed your eyes. This was wrong. Very wrong. It was not what you had signed up for. Your next words were dripping with disgust: “I thought we were fighting to bring down the corrupted government and free the country… when did this turn into a biological warfare?”

    “I know that this is not what we had been expecting, but Slavko cannot undo what has already been done. The bigger problem now is that the B.S.A.A. has interfered. The instant a word came out that the Liberation Army is exploiting bio-organic weapons, the B.S.A.A. came to eradicate whatever virus being used and whoever is using it. If Slavko backs out now, he will surely end up being apprehended and, one by one, the higher-ups will follow. This coup would have been for nothing. Slavko is going all out. It would be too late, too risky to forfeit everything now.”

    “I truly don’t understand how you and your ‘higher-ups’ think…” your words came to an abrupt halt when your ears caught the noise of shuffling sounding from outside. “I think someone’s coming. I have to go…”

    “_______, just remember. Whatever you’re doing, you’re still fighting for Edonia.”

    You scoffed. “It doesn’t feel like I’m fighting for my country anymore. It’s more like striving for an unborn hell, if you ask me.”

    Without waiting for your uncle’s retort, you hung up and immediately reached for the holster of your gun. Mindful of the already-disintegrating bodies lying on the floor, you eased away from the entrance and snuck toward one of the corners. You managed to swiftly hide behind the wall just as the doorknob jiggled and the door opened.

    Cautious steps proceeded slowly into the place and you held your breath, standing soundlessly in your spot with the gun ready in your grip. The shuffling of feet seemed to stop and that’s when an alert voice spoke, one that belonged to a woman. “Someone was here just now.”

    Another person agreed with a hum. The woman spoke again in reference to the dead mercenaries: “Who do you think killed them? It couldn’t be the B.S.A.A. guys. They’re at the other side of the city.”

    “I don’t know.” This time, the other person – a man – decided to speak, and his voice seemed awfully familiar. “But whoever they are, whatever it is… they couldn’t have gone far.”

    That’s Jake!

    Clinging as close as possible to the wall behind you, you craned your neck to look around the corner and your friend’s tall stature standing over one of the passed mercenaries was the first thing to meet your eyes. Knowing that he would most likely send a flying bullet to your forehead if you were to make a sudden appearance, you chose to slip out of the shadows in weightless, silent steps.

    The blonde lady standing next to Jake was the first to notice you and she swiftly held up her gun, aiming its front sight at you. Your untrusting nature reciprocated in like manner as you pointed your own gun at her. As their sight settled upon you, Jake’s eyes widened, obviously surprised to see you there.

    “Who are you?” The woman demanded. You had to admit: she sounded stronger and more confident than she looked it. Her baby blue eyes and petite figure could well be described as ‘cute’ – quite misleading.

    “Who are you?” You retorted, holding her at the point of the gun.

    “_______, what are you doing here?” Asked Jake, taking a step toward you.

    You glanced at him, “working”, then resumed your staredown with the blonde woman. Realizing that both ladies were still silently threatening each other with their declared weapons, Jake intervened, addressing the stranger first: “That’s alright, Sherry. She’s a friend.”

    “But Jake-“

    “It’s fine.”

    “We shouldn’t trust anyone.” She whispered, but you still narrowed your eyes at hearing her statement.

    “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Said Jake. “This is my best friend.”

    Looking at him for a moment then turning to study you with her blue, perceptive eyes, she tentatively lowered the gun to her side but refrained from sliding it in its holster. Jake turned to you and sighed after seeing you still maintaining your defensive stance. “_______.”

    “Still waiting on an introduction.” You rejoined.

    Jake exhaled heavily yet chuckled at your antics. “Fine, but lower your gun first, yeah?”

    Pinning the blonde lady with the muzzle of your weapon and a daring stare for a moment longer, you finally complied – though reluctantly – and put your gun down, but just like the human-sized “Tinkerbell” in front of you, you kept the weapon clenched in your hand.

    The red-haired man cleared his throat then spoke: “Sherry, this is my childhood friend _______. _______, this is-“

    “Sherry.” The lady spoke up, reaching for her official badge holder.

    “That’s… not needed…” A nervous Jake hurried to stop her, but she ignored him, pulling the I.D. up for you to see.

    “Sherry Birkin. National Security of the United States.” She spoke with an air of authority.

    “Uh, great.” Jake facepalmed.

    Alarmed, you almost spat. “An American?!”

    The woman called Sherry put her badge away , knowing fully well the weight of her identity as an American special operative. Your glare snapped at Jake who seemed to be squirming in his spot, making sure that he felt the heat of the glower, before turning your furious eyes to Sherry. “What is someone like you doing here?”

    Confidently, she stood her ground and gave a straightforward answer to your questioning, though it wasn’t in the least satisfying. “I’m here on a special mission.”

    Tightening your grip around your gun, you took a threatening step toward the woman and growled at her: “You better state your business, or else I’ll have to-“

    “Ay, ay. Calm down a little.” Jake stood in your way and took hold of your shoulders, all the while wearing an amused smile on his lips.

    You fixated your hateful gaze at his face and gritted your teeth. “You. Of all people. Should shut up.”

    “Jeez. Are you on your period or something? Chill, babe.”

    If your face had not been searing with anger before he said that, then it surely was at that moment. “She’s American!” You hissed, shamelessly pointing at Sherry.

    Jake closed his eyes and nodded: “I know.”

    “They’re the ones causing all the problems!”

    “That’s what everyone says…”

    You hung your hands on your hips: “Oh. So now you’re working with them?”

    “I’m… ugh!” Growing exasperate, Jake grabbed your upper arm and guided you away from Sherry, enough so she would not be able to hear his whispered reasoning. “I’m not working with them.”

    “Then what are you doing with her?” You accused, glancing briefly at the blonde American before glaring back at your oh-so-dear friend.

    Jake sighed and rubbed his scalp nervously. “Whoever hears you talking right now would think you’re jealous.”

    Puffing through your nostrils, you tried to ignore the fact that anger was not the only emotion behind your reddened face. “Just… answer the question.”

    “Alright, alright.” Jake surrendered, ushering you still a little farther from where Sherry stood. He glanced at the stranger among you for a second before explaining. “She says that I have some kind of… special blood.”

    And he went silent.

    Like that was going to explain anything! You raised an eyebrow. “Special blood?” Your tone was skeptical.

    “That’s what she said. Special in a sense that my blood carries antibodies for whatever virus is causing… this.” He motioned to what remained of the bodies of the infected mercenaries. “They are going to take some of my blood to make vaccines for the infected.”

    Although not believing a word he had said or even comprehending any of it, you scoffed: “Sounds noble.”

    “I guess.”

    “Typical Americans.” You pushed your gun back into its holster and crossed your arms: “What’s going to happen now?”

    “She’s taking me to America for the whole procedure.”

    Wait.

    “To where?!” You asked him to repeat himself again, your mouth almost touching the floor at the incredulity of it all.

    “Yeah…”

    “That’s not happening.” You began to charge toward the woman whom you couldn’t find yourself liking, but Jake was quick to stop you before you could advance any further and he pulled you back to where you had been standing.

    “Hey. Don’t ruin this for me.” He half whispered.

    “Ruin it for you?!” You countered in disbelief. “Who knows what they’re going to do to you! Did you really believe this stupid story of theirs?! They don’t care about any of us! We’re practically the enemy!”

    Sporting a careless smirk on his face, Jake right out disregarded your argument and said: “There’s a catch in it for me.”

    “A catch?” You repeated, confused.

    His smirk stretched wider and he leaned closer in order to make you hear his breathy whisper. “Try not to trip,” he paused for dramatic effect when all you did was try not to blush at his proximity, “fifty million dollars.”

     Your eyes widened. Your breath froze in your throat. It took you a moment to grasp what he had just said.

    “Cash.” He added, looking as smug as ever. You gulped. Fifty million dollars?! You hadn’t even dreamt of such a number, let alone in American dollar value! Fifty million in exchange for a small amount of his blood…

    Or could it be in exchange for more..?

    The look of surprise gradually fell to one of concern, of uncertainty. “Are you sure about this?”

    “Yeah. I mean… it did take them some convincing, but who am I to refuse their generosity?” He grinned.

    “But Jake… you… you know it’s not always about the money.”

    The easy smirk that had been pulled on his lips was then dropped, leaving his face blank, inexpressive. “It is.” He muttered. “It always was.”

    “Look, I-“

    “I’m going, _______. It’s settled.” He finalized, but something in his suddenly serious tone tugged at your heart in the most unkind way.

    “Besides,” he added, “what could they do to me?” You couldn’t find yourself sharing the same conviction, even if you wanted to. You gazed up into his azure orbs, the same shade of blue you couldn’t help but fall deeper for. Your eyes flickered to the long scar that lined his left cheek and you could faintly feel the tingling in your fingertips that longed to trace the soft, etiolated scar.

    Why can’t you just see? I’m worried about you, idiot…

    But you couldn’t tell him. How could you, when all he was thinking about was material gain?

    “Do you think it’s true...? The thing about your blood being special?” You did not intend for your voice to sound as dejected, but you hoped that Jake would not take note of it.

    “I don’t know.” He answered. “But every time I look in the mirror, I can’t help the thought that… my blood might very well be special.”

    You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. “You never get tired of yourself. Do you?”

    The cheeky grin returned to his countenance. “Never.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But I don’t know… it could be true.”

    “How so?”

    “W-well… you see…” he scratched the back of his head and looked around as though he could find the answer written on the ground here or there. Your brow furrowed at your friend’s uncharacteristic nervousness.

    “Jake?”

    “Ah… you’re not going to like this…”

    A deeper crease appeared on your forehead as you tried to assess the uncomfortable look on your friend’s face; he was glancing occasionally and ever so subtly at the deceased mercenaries, his eyes stealing glimpses of them before falling someplace else.

    And then realization hit you like a train.

    "No." Yours was a breathless gasp.

    Jake grimaced and braced himself for the eruptive rage that was bound to plummet over his head at any given moment.

    "Don’t tell me…"

    Here it comes.

    "Jake!" Though somewhat emotionally prepared, the man in question had not foreseen your enraged reaction until he felt your firm fist colliding with his left shoulder in a punch hard enough to jolt him a few steps backwards.

    "Ow! What was that for?!"

    "You injected yourself?!" Your voice boomed, which caused Jake to flinch a little. His shoulders slumped guiltily while he rubbed the abused area. "I’m sorry…" he mumbled.

    "Sorry?! ‘Sorry’ won’t cut it! What if you actually became infected?!"

    "But I didn’t!" Jake countered defensively, almost sounding like a little kid.

    "What if it did?!" Your tone was harsh compared to his defeated manner in responding. "What if… what if your blood was not so special?!"

    "I… I thought it was just an energy booster… kind of thing… so I…"

    "You went ahead and injected yourself with it." You cut him off, linking your arms across your chest.

    He chuckled nervously: "Yeah…"

    "I can’t believe you. How do you even think?!"

    "Well, it’s really refreshing to know that you care." He said with a smile playing on his lips.

    "Don’t make me hit you again!" You warned, readying your fist for another punch but Jake held his hands in front of himself in defense.

    "You can’t just take anything they give you! Especially that Slavko!"

    "But you work for him." Was Jake’s quick remark.

    A frustrated sigh escaped your lips: "We’re not talking about this now. But really… I…" You paused, seeing the expectant look on Jake’s face, then concedingly steered your sight away from him. "I’m just… worried about you, you know…" your utterance left your mouth in nearly a mumbled whisper, yet Jake seemed to catch it, judging by the wide grin on his face. You rolled your eyes at the stupid look he was giving you. "Wipe that grin off your face before I punch it off."

    Jake chuckled then stepped closer to you, grabbing the back of your head and pressing his lips to your forehead. "I promise. I’ll be safe."

    Flushed faced, you nodded: "You better."

    "Jake. We should leave." Urged a forgotten Sherry.

    The ginger head glanced to the ground. "Yeah…"

    "Hey." His gaze met your own when you spoke, but detecting the sudden reluctance in his orbs wrenched your heart. Mustering enough confidence, you reached for his left cheek where the old scar marred the pale skin and you pinched it gently. "You be careful. Okay?" You cursed your words for they – although few – had sounded strained.

    A smile reached the young man’s lips and he nodded: "I will. You too." With a final pat on the head, he breezed past you and toward the waiting lady. "And try not to have too much fun while I’m away! Kay?!" He called to you from over his shoulder and you could easily hear the playful smirk in his voice. You scoffed. "I’ll try."

    Sherry gave a gentle nod of acknowledgment and turned to walk away with Jake, but before they could go any further you took a step toward the two, addressing the blonde agent this time: "Hey, Tinkerbell."

    She turned to you, her brow puckered in confusion while Jake simply glanced between the two of you with a chuckle rippling in his throat. By the short sigh emitting from between her lips, you could tell that she was starting to get annoyed. You did not want to get on her nerves too much; She was the one to escort Jake safely to the States and back after all…

    "Sherry, right?"

    "Yes?"

    You blinked shortly at the floor then back to the blonde. "Make sure he’s safe."

    Sherry was unmistakably taken by surprise at hearing your solemn request.

    "He can be a handful sometimes. I know." You added.

    A tiny smile etched at her lips and she nodded. Jake, who stood by her side, pouted at what you had said: "Tsk, whatever…"

    "Don’t worry. He will be back safely." Sherry promised. After sharing one last glance with you, Jake dropped his azure gaze and turned to leave, with Sherry following closely. Every step he took further away was a hesitant one, yet you knew that, despite his hesitation, he was not turning back, not even for a final, fleeting glance. His broad back was the last thing you were going to see of him for whoever knew how long. Maybe a few days… a couple of weeks… you silently prayed it wouldn’t be for more.

    But saying goodbye for the first time since the two of you had met was a lot harsher than you had imagined. You stood there and watched with a heavy heart as the two retreated farther and farther, and you couldn’t help the feeling of unrectified jealousy that resurfaced gradually with every inch that your best friend (and secret crush) took further away with his new company.

    "Sure. Go with the blondie…"

    You couldn’t lie to yourself: you felt ashamed of your own thoughts. You knew that jealousy could kill its owner, but you couldn’t prevent your heart from aching at the thought of Jake being with another woman. In this case, a beautiful, golden-haired, blue-eyed, American woman. And Jake had a thing for pretty girls, which he had always made it clear. Thanks to his flirtatious nature, he could win her in a heartbeat; Needless to say, he was quite the looker himself. Special agent or not, she was most likely to feel attracted to him. If Jake’s last eight dates do not prove it, then nothing else could. Not that any of them lasted long – a week at most… but you honestly grew weary of Jake’s ever playful ways. You hoped nothing serious happens between Jake and Sherry…

    You hoped he would think of you while being away…

    That the compulsory distance separating you would enjoin him to look deeper into the relationship that you two share. Could there be more to it than simply platonic friendship? Could it have a deeper meaning?

    ‘What am I saying?!’ You chastised yourself. You knew you should have been more concerned about Jake’s well-being than your close relationship, but you could not possibly restrain your mind from whirling together with all these senseless thoughts: the thoughts of being so stupidly, so madly in love with your best friend.

    **********



    But…



    Had you known what was to befall him, you wouldn’t have let him go.

    **********



    A rough jerk pushed Jake off the edge of unconsciousness and his blue eyes fluttered open, heavy and blurry. The first thing his mind could register was how cold and aching his body felt. His hazy eyes flickered around to study his surroundings, but as soon as he had lifted his head the slightest angle, a sharp pain shot through his skull, squeezing his brain with a pressure so unbearable that he had to seal his eyes shut again. He tried to protest against the physical agony, but only then did he notice his mouth being covered by a strip of cloth tied securely at the back of his neck. He groaned lowly and rested his head against the metal floor. He couldn’t move, the ache in his muscles not being the sole reason. His hands and feet were bound with ropes, reining in any movement his poor body would execute; not like his beaten self could attempt any move.

    His heavy-lidded eyes cracked open and fell immediately on his female companion lying limply before him. Her short blonde hair fell lightly over her forehead and the side of her face was pressed against the solid floor. She was unconscious and, just in a similar fashion to him, her small body was tied down in the same restraints. How did it turn this way..?

    He blinked as the armored truck rocked once more, causing him to wince at the sudden dizziness that made his head spin painfully. Wherever these people were taking them, he didn’t know. But he was sure as hell that the next destination was nowhere near the States. Just the thought of being taken captive by whoever this new enemy of his was drained him from what little was left of his strength and abandoned him motionless there on the checker plate flooring of the back of the truck. He tried to fight this exhaustion coming upon him, but he still felt himself drifting slowly back to a state of numbness. He begged his mind to stay awake, to stay conscious, but his tired eyes betrayed him and before he could take another soft inhale, his body had already surrendered to the cold clutch of oblivion.

    _______...

    I’m sorry…







    To Be Continued…

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  Jake Muller x Reader
Chapter VII

Year: 2012
    Age: 18
    Country of Edonia



    “I don’t know what Slavko is thinking, but turning people into mindless killing machines is not going to save the country!” You hissed into the phone, your anger slowly but surely slipping out of control.

    “Don’t you think I know that?!” Sounded your uncle's laid-back voice from the other end of the call. “But these are his orders, and we know better than to disobey him.”

    You rolled your eyes in frustration and shook your head. You glanced down at the two bodies that lied lifelessly at your feet. Despite the mutation that had disfigured their appearance, you recognized the faces behind the deformity all too well.

    Jakov and Nikola. Your uncle’s fellow mercenaries and poker buddies.

    “Yeah, but… they were his men! They worked under his command! Why turn them into… I don’t know, some… freaking monsters?!” Because that is what they looked like… monsters. Their eyes had looked so empty, their infected bodies had swayed limply as they had dragged their feet in your direction. They had opened their hungry mouths, eager to feed on a fresh, living body, before they dropped dead by two fiery bullets from the barrel of your gun to their cold, vacuous skulls.

    “You don’t know them on a personal level, so why so worked up about it?” Asked the man.

    You sighed. You couldn’t deal with his ever-nonchalant attitude. “True. But you did. You knew them. And I… I just killed them!”

    A long pause lapsed, and for a second you wondered what kind of an expression had mounted your uncle’s countenance after listening to what you had just said. Yet again, you knew, without even having to see his face, that he was looking as impassive as he ever was. His response came soon after: “You were just defending yourself.”

    “But-“

    “It was their choice. They took the dose themselves. No one forced them into it.”

    You huffed, irritation rising again in your tone: “They thought it was some kind of energy booster! Next thing they know, it’s a freaking virus!”

    “Shhh! You know this is confidential, right? Quiet down.” He chided over the phone. “And there’s something that you need to understand. Using Bio-organic weapons has helped the Liberation Army more than anything else that we have tried already. Our troops are stronger now than ever before. At least now we can say that we have a chance.”

    You sealed your lips shut and closed your eyes. This was wrong. Very wrong. It was not what you had signed up for. Your next words were dripping with disgust: “I thought we were fighting to bring down the corrupted government and free the country… when did this turn into a biological warfare?”

    “I know that this is not what we had been expecting, but Slavko cannot undo what has already been done. The bigger problem now is that the B.S.A.A. has interfered. The instant a word came out that the Liberation Army is exploiting bio-organic weapons, the B.S.A.A. came to eradicate whatever virus being used and whoever is using it. If Slavko backs out now, he will surely end up being apprehended and, one by one, the higher-ups will follow. This coup would have been for nothing. Slavko is going all out. It would be too late, too risky to forfeit everything now.”

    “I truly don’t understand how you and your ‘higher-ups’ think…” your words came to an abrupt halt when your ears caught the noise of shuffling sounding from outside. “I think someone’s coming. I have to go…”

    “_______, just remember. Whatever you’re doing, you’re still fighting for Edonia.”

    You scoffed. “It doesn’t feel like I’m fighting for my country anymore. It’s more like striving for an unborn hell, if you ask me.”

    Without waiting for your uncle’s retort, you hung up and immediately reached for the holster of your gun. Mindful of the already-disintegrating bodies lying on the floor, you eased away from the entrance and snuck toward one of the corners. You managed to swiftly hide behind the wall just as the doorknob jiggled and the door opened.

    Cautious steps proceeded slowly into the place and you held your breath, standing soundlessly in your spot with the gun ready in your grip. The shuffling of feet seemed to stop and that’s when an alert voice spoke, one that belonged to a woman. “Someone was here just now.”

    Another person agreed with a hum. The woman spoke again in reference to the dead mercenaries: “Who do you think killed them? It couldn’t be the B.S.A.A. guys. They’re at the other side of the city.”

    “I don’t know.” This time, the other person – a man – decided to speak, and his voice seemed awfully familiar. “But whoever they are, whatever it is… they couldn’t have gone far.”

    That’s Jake!

    Clinging as close as possible to the wall behind you, you craned your neck to look around the corner and your friend’s tall stature standing over one of the passed mercenaries was the first thing to meet your eyes. Knowing that he would most likely send a flying bullet to your forehead if you were to make a sudden appearance, you chose to slip out of the shadows in weightless, silent steps.

    The blonde lady standing next to Jake was the first to notice you and she swiftly held up her gun, aiming its front sight at you. Your untrusting nature reciprocated in like manner as you pointed your own gun at her. As their sight settled upon you, Jake’s eyes widened, obviously surprised to see you there.

    “Who are you?” The woman demanded. You had to admit: she sounded stronger and more confident than she looked it. Her baby blue eyes and petite figure could well be described as ‘cute’ – quite misleading.

    “Who are you?” You retorted, holding her at the point of the gun.

    “_______, what are you doing here?” Asked Jake, taking a step toward you.

    You glanced at him, “working”, then resumed your staredown with the blonde woman. Realizing that both ladies were still silently threatening each other with their declared weapons, Jake intervened, addressing the stranger first: “That’s alright, Sherry. She’s a friend.”

    “But Jake-“

    “It’s fine.”

    “We shouldn’t trust anyone.” She whispered, but you still narrowed your eyes at hearing her statement.

    “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Said Jake. “This is my best friend.”

    Looking at him for a moment then turning to study you with her blue, perceptive eyes, she tentatively lowered the gun to her side but refrained from sliding it in its holster. Jake turned to you and sighed after seeing you still maintaining your defensive stance. “_______.”

    “Still waiting on an introduction.” You rejoined.

    Jake exhaled heavily yet chuckled at your antics. “Fine, but lower your gun first, yeah?”

    Pinning the blonde lady with the muzzle of your weapon and a daring stare for a moment longer, you finally complied – though reluctantly – and put your gun down, but just like the human-sized “Tinkerbell” in front of you, you kept the weapon clenched in your hand.

    The red-haired man cleared his throat then spoke: “Sherry, this is my childhood friend _______. _______, this is-“

    “Sherry.” The lady spoke up, reaching for her official badge holder.

    “That’s… not needed…” A nervous Jake hurried to stop her, but she ignored him, pulling the I.D. up for you to see.

    “Sherry Birkin. National Security of the United States.” She spoke with an air of authority.

    “Uh, great.” Jake facepalmed.

    Alarmed, you almost spat. “An American?!”

    The woman called Sherry put her badge away , knowing fully well the weight of her identity as an American special operative. Your glare snapped at Jake who seemed to be squirming in his spot, making sure that he felt the heat of the glower, before turning your furious eyes to Sherry. “What is someone like you doing here?”

    Confidently, she stood her ground and gave a straightforward answer to your questioning, though it wasn’t in the least satisfying. “I’m here on a special mission.”

    Tightening your grip around your gun, you took a threatening step toward the woman and growled at her: “You better state your business, or else I’ll have to-“

    “Ay, ay. Calm down a little.” Jake stood in your way and took hold of your shoulders, all the while wearing an amused smile on his lips.

    You fixated your hateful gaze at his face and gritted your teeth. “You. Of all people. Should shut up.”

    “Jeez. Are you on your period or something? Chill, babe.”

    If your face had not been searing with anger before he said that, then it surely was at that moment. “She’s American!” You hissed, shamelessly pointing at Sherry.

    Jake closed his eyes and nodded: “I know.”

    “They’re the ones causing all the problems!”

    “That’s what everyone says…”

    You hung your hands on your hips: “Oh. So now you’re working with them?”

    “I’m… ugh!” Growing exasperate, Jake grabbed your upper arm and guided you away from Sherry, enough so she would not be able to hear his whispered reasoning. “I’m not working with them.”

    “Then what are you doing with her?” You accused, glancing briefly at the blonde American before glaring back at your oh-so-dear friend.

    Jake sighed and rubbed his scalp nervously. “Whoever hears you talking right now would think you’re jealous.”

    Puffing through your nostrils, you tried to ignore the fact that anger was not the only emotion behind your reddened face. “Just… answer the question.”

    “Alright, alright.” Jake surrendered, ushering you still a little farther from where Sherry stood. He glanced at the stranger among you for a second before explaining. “She says that I have some kind of… special blood.”

    And he went silent.

    Like that was going to explain anything! You raised an eyebrow. “Special blood?” Your tone was skeptical.

    “That’s what she said. Special in a sense that my blood carries antibodies for whatever virus is causing… this.” He motioned to what remained of the bodies of the infected mercenaries. “They are going to take some of my blood to make vaccines for the infected.”

    Although not believing a word he had said or even comprehending any of it, you scoffed: “Sounds noble.”

    “I guess.”

    “Typical Americans.” You pushed your gun back into its holster and crossed your arms: “What’s going to happen now?”

    “She’s taking me to America for the whole procedure.”

    Wait.

    “To where?!” You asked him to repeat himself again, your mouth almost touching the floor at the incredulity of it all.

    “Yeah…”

    “That’s not happening.” You began to charge toward the woman whom you couldn’t find yourself liking, but Jake was quick to stop you before you could advance any further and he pulled you back to where you had been standing.

    “Hey. Don’t ruin this for me.” He half whispered.

    “Ruin it for you?!” You countered in disbelief. “Who knows what they’re going to do to you! Did you really believe this stupid story of theirs?! They don’t care about any of us! We’re practically the enemy!”

    Sporting a careless smirk on his face, Jake right out disregarded your argument and said: “There’s a catch in it for me.”

    “A catch?” You repeated, confused.

    His smirk stretched wider and he leaned closer in order to make you hear his breathy whisper. “Try not to trip,” he paused for dramatic effect when all you did was try not to blush at his proximity, “fifty million dollars.”

     Your eyes widened. Your breath froze in your throat. It took you a moment to grasp what he had just said.

    “Cash.” He added, looking as smug as ever. You gulped. Fifty million dollars?! You hadn’t even dreamt of such a number, let alone in American dollar value! Fifty million in exchange for a small amount of his blood…

    Or could it be in exchange for more..?

    The look of surprise gradually fell to one of concern, of uncertainty. “Are you sure about this?”

    “Yeah. I mean… it did take them some convincing, but who am I to refuse their generosity?” He grinned.

    “But Jake… you… you know it’s not always about the money.”

    The easy smirk that had been pulled on his lips was then dropped, leaving his face blank, inexpressive. “It is.” He muttered. “It always was.”

    “Look, I-“

    “I’m going, _______. It’s settled.” He finalized, but something in his suddenly serious tone tugged at your heart in the most unkind way.

    “Besides,” he added, “what could they do to me?” You couldn’t find yourself sharing the same conviction, even if you wanted to. You gazed up into his azure orbs, the same shade of blue you couldn’t help but fall deeper for. Your eyes flickered to the long scar that lined his left cheek and you could faintly feel the tingling in your fingertips that longed to trace the soft, etiolated scar.

    Why can’t you just see? I’m worried about you, idiot…

    But you couldn’t tell him. How could you, when all he was thinking about was material gain?

    “Do you think it’s true...? The thing about your blood being special?” You did not intend for your voice to sound as dejected, but you hoped that Jake would not take note of it.

    “I don’t know.” He answered. “But every time I look in the mirror, I can’t help the thought that… my blood might very well be special.”

    You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. “You never get tired of yourself. Do you?”

    The cheeky grin returned to his countenance. “Never.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But I don’t know… it could be true.”

    “How so?”

    “W-well… you see…” he scratched the back of his head and looked around as though he could find the answer written on the ground here or there. Your brow furrowed at your friend’s uncharacteristic nervousness.

    “Jake?”

    “Ah… you’re not going to like this…”

    A deeper crease appeared on your forehead as you tried to assess the uncomfortable look on your friend’s face; he was glancing occasionally and ever so subtly at the deceased mercenaries, his eyes stealing glimpses of them before falling someplace else.

    And then realization hit you like a train.

    "No." Yours was a breathless gasp.

    Jake grimaced and braced himself for the eruptive rage that was bound to plummet over his head at any given moment.

    "Don’t tell me…"

    Here it comes.

    "Jake!" Though somewhat emotionally prepared, the man in question had not foreseen your enraged reaction until he felt your firm fist colliding with his left shoulder in a punch hard enough to jolt him a few steps backwards.

    "Ow! What was that for?!"

    "You injected yourself?!" Your voice boomed, which caused Jake to flinch a little. His shoulders slumped guiltily while he rubbed the abused area. "I’m sorry…" he mumbled.

    "Sorry?! ‘Sorry’ won’t cut it! What if you actually became infected?!"

    "But I didn’t!" Jake countered defensively, almost sounding like a little kid.

    "What if it did?!" Your tone was harsh compared to his defeated manner in responding. "What if… what if your blood was not so special?!"

    "I… I thought it was just an energy booster… kind of thing… so I…"

    "You went ahead and injected yourself with it." You cut him off, linking your arms across your chest.

    He chuckled nervously: "Yeah…"

    "I can’t believe you. How do you even think?!"

    "Well, it’s really refreshing to know that you care." He said with a smile playing on his lips.

    "Don’t make me hit you again!" You warned, readying your fist for another punch but Jake held his hands in front of himself in defense.

    "You can’t just take anything they give you! Especially that Slavko!"

    "But you work for him." Was Jake’s quick remark.

    A frustrated sigh escaped your lips: "We’re not talking about this now. But really… I…" You paused, seeing the expectant look on Jake’s face, then concedingly steered your sight away from him. "I’m just… worried about you, you know…" your utterance left your mouth in nearly a mumbled whisper, yet Jake seemed to catch it, judging by the wide grin on his face. You rolled your eyes at the stupid look he was giving you. "Wipe that grin off your face before I punch it off."

    Jake chuckled then stepped closer to you, grabbing the back of your head and pressing his lips to your forehead. "I promise. I’ll be safe."

    Flushed faced, you nodded: "You better."

    "Jake. We should leave." Urged a forgotten Sherry.

    The ginger head glanced to the ground. "Yeah…"

    "Hey." His gaze met your own when you spoke, but detecting the sudden reluctance in his orbs wrenched your heart. Mustering enough confidence, you reached for his left cheek where the old scar marred the pale skin and you pinched it gently. "You be careful. Okay?" You cursed your words for they – although few – had sounded strained.

    A smile reached the young man’s lips and he nodded: "I will. You too." With a final pat on the head, he breezed past you and toward the waiting lady. "And try not to have too much fun while I’m away! Kay?!" He called to you from over his shoulder and you could easily hear the playful smirk in his voice. You scoffed. "I’ll try."

    Sherry gave a gentle nod of acknowledgment and turned to walk away with Jake, but before they could go any further you took a step toward the two, addressing the blonde agent this time: "Hey, Tinkerbell."

    She turned to you, her brow puckered in confusion while Jake simply glanced between the two of you with a chuckle rippling in his throat. By the short sigh emitting from between her lips, you could tell that she was starting to get annoyed. You did not want to get on her nerves too much; She was the one to escort Jake safely to the States and back after all…

    "Sherry, right?"

    "Yes?"

    You blinked shortly at the floor then back to the blonde. "Make sure he’s safe."

    Sherry was unmistakably taken by surprise at hearing your solemn request.

    "He can be a handful sometimes. I know." You added.

    A tiny smile etched at her lips and she nodded. Jake, who stood by her side, pouted at what you had said: "Tsk, whatever…"

    "Don’t worry. He will be back safely." Sherry promised. After sharing one last glance with you, Jake dropped his azure gaze and turned to leave, with Sherry following closely. Every step he took further away was a hesitant one, yet you knew that, despite his hesitation, he was not turning back, not even for a final, fleeting glance. His broad back was the last thing you were going to see of him for whoever knew how long. Maybe a few days… a couple of weeks… you silently prayed it wouldn’t be for more.

    But saying goodbye for the first time since the two of you had met was a lot harsher than you had imagined. You stood there and watched with a heavy heart as the two retreated farther and farther, and you couldn’t help the feeling of unrectified jealousy that resurfaced gradually with every inch that your best friend (and secret crush) took further away with his new company.

    "Sure. Go with the blondie…"

    You couldn’t lie to yourself: you felt ashamed of your own thoughts. You knew that jealousy could kill its owner, but you couldn’t prevent your heart from aching at the thought of Jake being with another woman. In this case, a beautiful, golden-haired, blue-eyed, American woman. And Jake had a thing for pretty girls, which he had always made it clear. Thanks to his flirtatious nature, he could win her in a heartbeat; Needless to say, he was quite the looker himself. Special agent or not, she was most likely to feel attracted to him. If Jake’s last eight dates do not prove it, then nothing else could. Not that any of them lasted long – a week at most… but you honestly grew weary of Jake’s ever playful ways. You hoped nothing serious happens between Jake and Sherry…

    You hoped he would think of you while being away…

    That the compulsory distance separating you would enjoin him to look deeper into the relationship that you two share. Could there be more to it than simply platonic friendship? Could it have a deeper meaning?

    ‘What am I saying?!’ You chastised yourself. You knew you should have been more concerned about Jake’s well-being than your close relationship, but you could not possibly restrain your mind from whirling together with all these senseless thoughts: the thoughts of being so stupidly, so madly in love with your best friend.

    **********



    But…



    Had you known what was to befall him, you wouldn’t have let him go.

    **********



    A rough jerk pushed Jake off the edge of unconsciousness and his blue eyes fluttered open, heavy and blurry. The first thing his mind could register was how cold and aching his body felt. His hazy eyes flickered around to study his surroundings, but as soon as he had lifted his head the slightest angle, a sharp pain shot through his skull, squeezing his brain with a pressure so unbearable that he had to seal his eyes shut again. He tried to protest against the physical agony, but only then did he notice his mouth being covered by a strip of cloth tied securely at the back of his neck. He groaned lowly and rested his head against the metal floor. He couldn’t move, the ache in his muscles not being the sole reason. His hands and feet were bound with ropes, reining in any movement his poor body would execute; not like his beaten self could attempt any move.

    His heavy-lidded eyes cracked open and fell immediately on his female companion lying limply before him. Her short blonde hair fell lightly over her forehead and the side of her face was pressed against the solid floor. She was unconscious and, just in a similar fashion to him, her small body was tied down in the same restraints. How did it turn this way..?

    He blinked as the armored truck rocked once more, causing him to wince at the sudden dizziness that made his head spin painfully. Wherever these people were taking them, he didn’t know. But he was sure as hell that the next destination was nowhere near the States. Just the thought of being taken captive by whoever this new enemy of his was drained him from what little was left of his strength and abandoned him motionless there on the checker plate flooring of the back of the truck. He tried to fight this exhaustion coming upon him, but he still felt himself drifting slowly back to a state of numbness. He begged his mind to stay awake, to stay conscious, but his tired eyes betrayed him and before he could take another soft inhale, his body had already surrendered to the cold clutch of oblivion.

    _______...

    I’m sorry…







    To Be Continued…