Every step Ciema took was burdened, slow. Her hand trailed on the wall, groping the surface.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. It refused to go down.
"Is Jaiden going to end it all when we capture Aleen?" Ciema wondered. "Why did Harper 'wound' him? Will I wound him? I don't want to hurt him."
She froze, her head swarming with thoughts and worry.
"Laila was right," she contemplated. "We shouldn't be here. We should've left—"
And leave Jaiden all alone?
Ciema squeezed her eyes shut.
"That's right. If they weren't here, he'd be consumed by despair. We saved him, just like he saved us."
Ciema opened her eyes, determined. "And I must save him."
She continued to her room, anxious about Laila and Jada. She wondered if they took the news well.
In the sunken living room, Laila groaned. Jada laid, curled up on the couch.
"I don't care who or what Aleen is," Laila gritted out. "When I find her, I'm ending it."
"A punch can't heal the past," Jada remarked.
"Yes it does," Laila argued. "It always worked for me."
"Not this time, Laila," Ciema said, joining the pair.
Laila looked away, annoyed.
"What do we do?" Laila snapped. "Send well wishes? How can we make this better?"
Jada sighed. "If only we'd captured her the first time..."
"Then our time would be over," Ciema replied. "Jaiden would be alone again."
_________
Aleen walked through the door, her heels echoing in the golden floor. Her purse dangled from her elbow. She wore a black tube dress, her silver-white hair tied in pigtails.
Her makeup was styled as a child. Rosy cheeks, fairer skin, and red lips
All to appease her mother.
She had dreaded coming home but she had to inform her of the good news.
She needed her support. For once.
Valentina Leon stepped out, wearing a floral pink peplum shirt with a black pencil skirt. Her grey hair styled in a bun. She marched towards her daughter, hand cocked back.
"Hello mother— "
Slap!
Aleen reeled from the hard smack across her cheek. She turned, eyes blazing with fury and hurt.
"How dare you return to this house!" Valentina snapped.
"I wanted to say hello," Aleen gritted. "But I shouldn't have been so polite."
"Indeed," Valentina laughed. "You have failed. Just like your grandfather, Lucius Esposito."
She spun on her heel, storming down the hallway
"Not yet," Aleen argued, following her. "I have a way to get rid of Jaiden Maximoff once and for all."
"Oh please," Valentina dismissed her. "We've been trying to get rid of him for years. Nothing worked."
"I'm going to destroy him for sure," Aleen assured her.
"Blow him up?" Valentina snorted, stepping into the vast living room. "Like last time?"
The living room had yellow Italian velvet tailored pleat curtains. A soft carpet that curled around the women's feet. Two arm chairs placed besides a warm furnace.
Valentina sat down in one of them, one leg on the other. A smug smile crept on her face. Her eyes glinted with mischief and hatred.
"You were always the worst child," Valentina spoke sharply. "Begging for attention. Whiny and abhorrent. We had to give you pacifiers just to shut you up."
Aleen stood there, clenching her fists.
"Even then, you'd somehow find a way to annoy us," Valentina frowned. "And all you wanted was respect."
"You never gave it to me," Aleen snapped. "So I will make the world pay."
"The other families think you're a joke," Valentina spoke sternly. "And so you are."
"I am not a joke!" Aleen snapped, drawing her golden pistol. shaking, she aimed the barrel at her mother.
Valentina grabbed a bottle of red wine. She popped the cork, enjoying the sizzling sound. She poured it into the cup provided.
She set down the bottle and took the cup, sipping the delicious wine.
"Do pull the trigger, dear, and don't delay," Valentina said boredly.
A broken sob escaped Aleen's lips. She lowered the weapon.
"As usual," Valentina sighed, swirling the biting liquid. "You disappoint me."
Aleen raised her head, wiping her eyes. "You never supported me. Not even when I wanted Jaiden."
Valentina smiled. "I remember that rejection like it was yesterday. It must've pained you when he chose Thea all those years ago."
Aleen panted, stuffing the gun back in her purse.
"Even now," Valentina chuckled. "He'd rather die than be with you."
She laughed, slapping her knee. Aleen paced the room, biting her bottom lip.
"This time he will die," Aleen grinned manically. "With my bombs, I'll destroy him!"
She turned, pointing at her mother. "And you will respect me!"
Valentina stopped laughing, her smile twisted into a snarl. Sucking up saliva, she spat it at her daughter's feet.
Aleen stormed off, fuming. Her nails dug into her palms.
She shoved the front door open, wiping her eyes. Mr. Spencer stood there, brows creased in feigned concern.
"She hasn't given you her blessing?" Mr. Spencer asked.
Aleen shot him a glare.
He stepped aside as her men opened the door. She lingered, turning to him.
"Call Yongquiang, and Qiu Yue," she ordered.
Mr. Spencer smiled as she climbed into the limo.
___________
Basil opened his eyes. Bowman paced back and forth. Realizing he's awake, she pulled a chair and sat down.
"Basil Papadopoulos," she punctuated his name.
Basil shook off his daze. "Special Agent Bowman. Where is my brother?"
"Safe," Bowman spoke. "If you mean Nikolaos. He locked up in a cell next to you."
"Yiannis," Basil mumbled. "I mean Yiannis. Where is he?"
"Oh right. Yiannis," Bowman smiled. She slid a file towards him. He hurriedly opened it, noting the handcuffs tight around his wrists.
"Your brother, Yiannis, moved to Brazil to escape Aleen's wrath," she narrated as Basil eyed the pictures. "Seems to me she's burning her bridges."
Basil closed the file, his gaze met hers.
"Tell me everything you know on Aleen," Bowman said threateningly. "And I'll make sure you eat more than prison mush."
Basil laughed, reclining in his chair. "What's to tell?"
"What does that mean?" Bowman spoke.
"Aleen Leon is crazy," Basil stated. "You know that first hand. She tried to blow you up, and all of your agents."
"But she must have a motive," Bowman pushed. "What is it?"
"Damned if I know," he shrugged.
"Are you mad at Yiannis for abandoning you?" Bowman asked.
"No," Basil replied. "He had a job, and he did it. I would've done the same."
Bowman exited the interrogation room, sighing.
"Nothing," she turned to Miller.
Miller muttered, "Damnit!"
"Hot take but we should've apprehended the Amazons," Hubbard spoke.
"Thank you!" Agent Woodson shouted.
"They knew less than us," Bowman snapped. "It would've been a waste."
"You don't know that," Miller snapped.
"I looked into their eyes," Bowman cut in. "And they were just as lost as we."
She stormed towards the door, slipping out the room in a huff. Miller rubbed his face.
"Bring in the other brother," he ordered. "Now!"
Nikolaos was dumped into the chair. He grunted, looking up. Miller sat opposite him.
"Hello," Nikolaos purred.
"Nikolaos Papadopoulos," Miller read. "You're the youngest, correct?"
"What made it so obvious?" Nikolaos smirked. "My eccentric charm?"
Miller reached over, grabbing his collar. He yanked it to his feet. Nikolaos stared into his eyes, unfazed.
"You better start singing or you'll wish you'd talk," he warned.
"Bring it on," Nikolaos snorted before laughing loudly.
Miller wavered, releasing Nikolaos. Nikolaos kept cackling as the other agents turned to each other, bewildered.
__________
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. popped in, her screen showing 'Incoming Call.'
The time was 5:59 a.m.
The girls had taken fallen asleep, but were wakened by the call.
The girls exchanged weary looks. Could it be Aleen? Cornelia? Maya?
"Answer it," Ciema ordered. The call beeped.
"Hello?" Bowman's voice echoed.
"The hell?" Laila snapped, rising to her feet.
"I just want to talk," Bowman answered carefully. The call shrunk on the screen. T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. immediately began to trace the call.
"Come to National Mall. All of you," she urged. The location zoomed out, presented to the girls.
Laila and Jada turned to Ciema. Ciema eyed the screen.
Ciema asked, "This isn't a trap, right?"
"Of course not," Bowman answered. "I just want to talk."
Ciema leaned back. "We'll go."
The call ended.
Jada stuck her head out, scanning left to right.
"Clear," she whispered.
She slipped out, Laila and Ciema following. They tip-toed down the hall, their alert relaxed.
"Where are you going?" T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. popped in, cartoon eyes narrowing.
The girls yelped then clutched their rising chests.
"You can't leave," she said.
"What? Why?" Laila asked.
"These are tense times," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. stated. "Aleen might be blotting something. And you want to meet up with the enemy?"
"She might finally be giving up on Jaiden," Ciema countered.
"Go back in your rooms," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. ordered. "Mr. Mace and I are busy dissecting these bombs."
"Keep doing that," Jada urged, giving two thumbs up.
"Point is go back to your room."
"It's only a four hour drive," Ciema stated brushing past the Ai. "We'll be back before breakfast."
Jada and Laila followed behind her.
"But..." T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. mustered courage to yell. "If you leave, I'll never forgive you."
"You're an Ai," Laila hollered. "You're incapable of forgiveness."
The door slammed shut, it echoed in the living room. T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. fought tears before breaking down. A teardrop slid down her digital face.
She switched off, her sobs echoing in the house.
Chi Chi woke from her nap, whined from the sound and from the detected chill in the air.
They descent down the steps into the basement. "Let's bring some gear," Ciema said. "Just in case."
The lights turn on, spotlighting the BearCat.
__________
Bowman glanced at her wrist-watch. It was 9: 45 a.m.
Where were they?
A tap on her shoulder made her spin around. Bowman breathed a sigh at the sight of the girls. They were dressed in the catsuits, black jackets wrapped around to give the illusion of clothes.
She looked up at Laila, noting the girl's height.
"Woah she's tall," Bowman muttered, amazed.
"I'm 5'7'," Laila clarified.
"Did you know she was this tall?" Bowman turned to the others.
"Really?" Jada glanced at her. "Never knew."
"Enough," Ciema cut in. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Wrong question," Laila butted in. "How did you call us?"
"Maya Natsume has the house number," Bowman confessed.
"Oh," the girls nodded in unison.
"As for why I summoned you," Bowman continued. "I know I was hostile to you Amazons."
"Hostile is being generous," Laila scoffed.
"Right," Bowman flinched. "But I want to make amends. To extend this olive branch to you. I'll share what I know, and you'll share what you know."
Jada took a step forward. "For one, we don't know her plan."
"But we know her motive," Ciema interjected. "She has this vendetta against him. Mainly wants to kill because she's a member of the Esposito family."
"Her father is Greek-American," Bowman narrowed at Ciema.
"Her mother was Valentina Esposito. An Italian," Laila answered. "Valentina married Apollo Leon."
Bowman gasped, her eyes widened. She stepped back, her mind piecing together the puzzle. Now it all made sense.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "My father was right. I didn't have the complete picture."
She cleared her throat. "My father, Clyde Bowman, was a brilliant man. He was on the case for a long time. He left due to...mental issues I didn't understand at the time."
"Jaiden drove him crazy?" Jada gasped.
"It's hard to find a subject," Bowman shrugged. "When you can barely remember your kid's name."
"Dementia," Ciema whispered.
"I think that was obvious," Laila hissed.
"I always viewed Jaiden as this illegal scumbag who deserved to be arrested," Bowman reflected. "But Dad always said I didn't have the complete picture. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I tend to get sentimental."
"Trust us, we get it," Ciema smiled.
__________
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. hovered beside Mr. Mace. Mr. Mace inspected the device.
"I can't believe they left," she frowned.
"They'll be back," Mr. Mace assured her.
Jaiden's hand hovered over the phone. He sighed, wanting to dial. To tell someone he's alive.
He could confess to the Amazons but making his loved ones believe he was dead was cold and cruel.
But what was he going to say?
Mr. Mace squinted at a red beeping light on the bomb's shell. It emitted no sound, but the light was ominous.
"T.I.F.F.A.N.Y.," Mr. Mace spoke sternly. "How long has that light been on?"
T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. scanned the bomb.
Taking a breath, Jaiden picked up the phone. He dialed a number and pressed it to his ear.
Finished scanning, T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. gasped.
"Well?" Mr. Mace urged.
"Eight hours ago," T.I.F.F.A.N.Y. swallowed.
"Hello?" Cornelia's voice came through.
Before he could answer, the lights shorted out.