3.At the Face of Death

Anastasiya Van Houten

A yelp escaped my lips as I was tossed onto the hard, unforgiving earth.

I could barely see anything with blinding lights flashing directly into my eyes from different directions. The only thing I could hear was a roaring almost trickling sound in the background. I thought I was alone for a moment, until a voice—a rich, dark baritone—cut through the chaos.

“You must be Anastasiya, Nice to meet you. I’m Malcom Reece”

He stepped into my line of vision, his silhouette temporarily blocking the blinding lights, giving me a clear view of his face.

I froze, caught off guard by his appearance. He was young—shockingly so—with messy blonde curls framing a face that could almost pass as innocent. Almost. The crinkle in his eyes deepened as he glanced at his outstretched hand, urging me to shake it.

A sneer adorned my lips as I glanced at him head to toe.

Did bro forget that my hands were chained behind me, sure I had picked the lock on the way but no one knew that.

“Yeah, no shit,” I replied dryly, glancing away from his exaggerated and mocking smile.

He let out a picture-perfect laugh before running his hands through his hair. “A little birdy told me you were looking for me. Something about a teensy-weensy interest in what I’ve been doing” He paused, crouching down to grab my chin roughly in his calloused grip. His fingers dug painfully into the flesh of my lower jaw.

His voice was mocking, almost as if he was so confident that he could get rid of me easily. “I have no problem with people being interested in me. Come on I’m the prime minister of the United Kingdom for God’s sake but you…. You Agent Twelve, you’ve ventured quite too far”.

A huge part of me wanted nothing but to smack that smug smile off his stupid face but I remained quiet, taking my time to assess the situation. Despite the light flashing in my eyes, I could see the silhouette of a few other men surrounding me. Plus Agent Fourteen and Malcom, I could count 12 men in total, that was quite a small number for a prime minister’s convoy. He was here to kill someone-he probably brought his knit circle of tight-lipped guards that would rather die than spill the beans.

“You’re not going to say anything, maybe beg for your life or cuss my existence out” He prodded, hoping to get a reaction out of me. I remained silent, my face neutral as he stared right into my eyes.

Our stare-down went on for almost a minute before Malcom sighed, humming softly to himself. “No last words huh….”

I kept my silence, biting back the words burning in my throat. The longer I stayed quiet, the more he grew frustrated. Malcom’s grip on my chin tightened before he finally let go, his fingers brushing against my jaw in a sickeningly casual manner as if he hadn’t just manhandled me.

“Well, aren’t you the stoic type,” he drawled, standing to his full height. His shadow loomed over me as he clasped his hands behind his back, inspecting me like a predator gauging its prey. “I’ll admit, Agent Twelve, I’m disappointed. I expected more of a fight from someone with your reputation.”

His gaze flicked to one of his men, who nodded before removing the blinding light away from my face into the darkness. My gut twisted, instincts flaring at the possibilities of what Malcom had in store for me. I couldn’t act just yet, I couldn’t act just yet, I needed to distract him, even if it meant enduring whatever he had in store for me.

A sudden commotion drew my attention forward. My breath hitched as a figure was dragged into the spotlight.

Valencia.

She was a shadow of the princess I remembered. Her body sagged between two guards as they hauled her forward, her face bloodied and bruised, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her eyes were dull and unfocused as she stared at Malcom.

“Valencia…” Her name barely escaped my lips, my voice breaking.

“My lovely Fiancée who had the guts to betray me.” Malcom sneered. He strode toward her, running a hand through her disheveled hair. She flinched at the contact, her knees buckling as she struggled to stay upright.

Rage boiled within me, but I forced it down. This was a game to him—a sick, twisted game—and I wasn’t going to play into his hands. Not yet.

“You see, Anastasiya.” Malcom continued, his tone dripping with mockery, “This little princess here thought she could outsmart me. I saved you from those festering men who wanted a trophy wife, gave you a roof over your head after your foolish parents got themselves killed and this is how you pay me. Well since you’re dying to see them-pun not intended- then I can grant your wish” He gestured towards what I had now recognized as a cliff’s edge, where jagged rocks jutted out beneath the roaring waves.

Valencia’s eyes burned with molten fury as she stared up at Malcom. “You fucking bastard, you killed my pare-

Her words were knocked out of her mouth as Malcom’s large palm came crashing down on her left cheek. In an instant, she was on the ground with a bleeding lip.

“Now is not the time to run your little mouth, princess” Malcom gritted out before fisting her hair harshly, pulling her to her feet.

My stomach churned as he shoved Valencia closer to the edge, her weakened body barely resisting.

I didn’t understand but something about Valencia’s helplessness made me just want to protect her, I didn’t know why. I could just go on with my plan, after all she was a perfect distraction. While Malcom was busy killing her, I could take the opportunity to strike. I just couldn’t bring myself to turn a blind eye.

“Stop!” The word tore from my throat before I could stop myself.

Both Malcom and Valencia turned to me, the fear in her round eyes was almost painful to witness.

“Ah, there it is. Just what I was waiting for.” Malcom smirked, stopping right in his steps.

I clenched my fists, the cuffs digging into my wrists. I could feel the tension in the air, the way his men tightened their grips on their weapons. One wrong move and it would all be over.

“There’s no need to bring her into this,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just let her go.”

Malcom tilted his head, pretending to consider my words. “That sounds very convincing,” he mused sarcastically, “ I could let her go but where’s the fun in that? No, I think I’d rather see how far you’re willing to go to save her.”

He nodded to one of his men, who handed him a gun. My heart pounded as he aimed it at Valencia’s head, his finger hovering over the trigger with murderous intent.

“Sayonara”

My heart pulsed as desperation surged within me. My mind raced, searching for a way out—a weakness, a distraction, anything.

Valencia’s body trembled as she closed her eyes, tears streaming silently down her bruised face. My muscles screamed to move, but I was frozen, torn between fear and fury.

Malcom tilted his head, his finger tightening ever so slightly on the trigger. "Let’s see how far you’ll go, Anastasiya."

My fingers curled as my heart thundered in my chest, every instinct screaming at me to act.