The Mrs.

Posted on Sun May 14th, 2023 @ 9:42pm by Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell

Mission: Repairs and Retribution
Location: Undisclosed Compound
Timeline: Current-ish

Warm light flickered in the hearth of the eight foot fireplace, bouncing against the marbled walls of the large study. Near the fire, gazing into the flame, stood a woman with well defined ridge lines and a circular spoon shaped indentation upon her forehead. She was sipping from a glass, filled with a smooth Kanar once made in the hills East of town.

Outside, beyond the windows, just beyond the compound walls, a shuttle landed and was followed up by a level of commotion. She did not flinch. This was expected. In fact she took the last drink of her Kanar, turned and placed it down upon the silver platter next to her sitting chair, then sat down and crossed her legs.

As she pressed the fire tipped cigarette to her lips and lit it, the large wood cast doors, with their ornate trimmings opened behind her allowing the light from the corridor to penetrate her study. She did not wince. This was expected. A foot soldier entered and the doors were closed behind him by her doormen. He approached cautiously, never knowing what mood he may find her in.

Breaking the silence he announced. “I bring news. The operation was a success. We have obtained the three primary targets and they are on route to the compound.”

One could count the heartbeats before she spoke. “And the secondary targets?” She asked simply.

She wasn’t happy, and he knew it. Since receiving the news that the Captain and her crew had escaped trial, the Mrs. had spent her days plotting her revenge, often slipping from mood to mood with ease. Some had begun talking about her sanity and whether or not she should be checked for illness. But he knew what had been taken could never be given back.

“We were unable to gather the secondaries and now the location for extraction is too hot. You must understand Miss…” his words were cut off as her empty glass of Kanar was thrown forcefully at the ground where he stood.

She was up out of her seat, staring him down. “I want them all. Not some of them, not a few, every, single, one of them. Got it? I don’t care what it takes or who has to die to make this happen, understood? She and her ilk will pay for what they’ve done, every last one of them.”

She stood and her mood shifted once more to someone calm, collected and in control once more. “And they had better be in one piece when they get here. I know how some of these brutes like to torture their prisoners. That will not do, no I want to watch them suffer before they die.” She smiled a forced fake smile that appeared smooth against the flickering flames within her eyes. “I trust I’ve made myself clear?”

“Indeed. Yes ma’am.” He responded before clicking his heels, turning and walking back towards the doors. As they opened to allow light to enter she commented one last thing.

“Oh, and bring me the husband. He should have the right to watch, don't you think?” The question was rhetorical. The guard nodded then proceeded on through the doors where he realized he had stopped breathing.

As the doors closed behind him, she returned to her quiet contemplation and her lit fire stick which calmed her nerves. Patience was needed now. And no more interruptions.