After getting Anna settled, Vivienne received another message from Matthew.
[Vivienne, Scott's found Rowan and Ismene!]
A sly smile curled Vivienne's ruby lips.
That Scott never did sit still. Fresh from nabbing the potion, now he was off cleaning house.
Truly a loyal hound for GTO.
Vivienne glanced up, her gaze laced with intrigue as she eyed Percival, her voice dripping with seduction, "Mr. Wolf, there's a show worth catching. Care to join?"
Percival's lips curved subtly as he said, "Sounds good."
...
In a quaint village in the suburbs of Rivenwood.
Rowan and Ismene had been masquerading as locals, too scared to show their faces.
They feared not only Vivienne and Percival.
Just the name Mr. B was enough to send shivers down their spines.
Their betrayal of the organization was no secret now. If found, they were as good as dead.
They managed a farmhouse turned bed-and-breakfast, frequented by those seeking the rustic charm of country living, basically hiding in plain sight. Who would suspect that these simple farmers were assassins trained by GTO?
A sleek black SUV pulled up to the farmhouse, a reservation made days in advance.
Donning simple clothes and a straw hat, Rowan approached with a basket of apples.
"Mr. Brooks, I presume," Rowan said, sizing up the man before him.
Indeed, it was the missing patriarch of the Brooks family, Scott.
Although in hiding, Rowan and Ismene kept abreast of city affairs – one must always be ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
However, to their surprise, the recent bed-and-breakfast booking was from Scott.
Scott smiled, the epitome of elegance in his black trench coat and finely tailored suit, which only accentuated his gentle demeanor.
"Yes, I called a few days ago," Scott said, his voice as soothing as a spring breeze.
Rowan's guard lowered. Scott was head of the Brooks family. After some digging, Rowan knew the Brooks family did not possess the potion. Even if they did, they were enemies of the organization, not a direct threat.
Ismene emerged from the house, clad in a floral blouse typical of the village women, fan in hand, and offered a naive smile, "Mr. Brooks, your room is ready. Shall we head to the beach for some fishing afterward?"
Scott nodded and followed Rowan inside.
But as he reached the doorstep, his stride halted abruptly.
"The air is quite fresh here."
"Yes, typical for the village," Rowan replied with a chuckle.
Scott turned, his eyes darkening as he slowly said, "I wonder how easy it is to die here."
Rowan froze, his hand already reaching into the basket, but before he could draw his weapon, Scott had pulled the trigger.
A muffled gunshot rang out; Rowan's shoulder bled profusely, though he managed to dodge in time.
Realizing the situation, Ismene flicked her fan, revealing a sharp dagger at its edge, and lunged at Scott.
The next moment, Scott kicked her away, firing two shots.
Ismene fell, legs flailing, unable to stand.
Scott settled into a wicker chair in the yard, meticulously cleaning his gun.
"Thought you could ambush me? Forgotten who trained you in stealth?"
To join GTO, one had to be skilled not just in ability but also in the art of killing.
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