Don't Do This

The floor is empty, the tables full, the music plays and they dance. Spins of delicacy and struts of pride, he kicks to the left as the music spikes and she effortlessly follows his lead. It’s a dancing game, a spinning, twirling dance of shame. Dresses fly and the colours blur, in the dimmed, scattered light I see the sequins shimmering on her dress. Together they glide between the rigid movements of people not yet at their sacred standard. As one, they play their part this evening, waiting for the moment when the table turns and it’s their move to roll the weighted die. But for now they wait, they wait and they dance. Watching, twisting, with graceful swoops and cranes of the necks to see what their targets are hiding. The song draws to a finish but it’s not over yet, the night is young and the last song has yet to be sung.

He turns on his toes and his jacket flares as his hips sway; the music skips a beat as the gun is revealed.

He wasn’t going to use it; he didn’t have to. Together they could finish this dance and get what they came for without hassle. It was their duty, it was their job, they were dancers and they were spies.

“Do you think its them?”

“It’s hard to tell.”

They press in close together, hands clasping each other’s backs.

“Is he armed?”

“Yes but so are the couple in black.”

“Maybe they’re a team?”

“No, she’s far too young. Look at the other woman’s shoes.”

She smiles.

“They’re not dancing shoes; it’s them.”

Their hips flick in mirrored motions; their feet skim across the parquet floor as marbles would across varnished wood. If you listen, beneath the echoing music, the sound of their footsteps can be heard tapping seconds apart. They could be professionals.

“When do we make our move?”

He takes a shallow breath.

“Now.”

The couple glide and spin across the room till they are dancing on the same line as their targets. Then he lets her go and she’s all alone, twirling down the line, 3, 4, 5, 6 spins and she’s just feet away but she doesn’t stop, seemingly losing control she crashes into the man and everyone looks. Everyone looks but no one sees. No one sees her grab the targets gun from his waistband as she holds on to him to stop from falling. She smiles embarrassed, the onlookers hear a stream of apologies pouring from her mouth, but the man hears the cocking of a gun and the words of a spy.

“Walk out the door and don’t say a word.” Her partner joins and links his arm with the Man’s other half.

“Take her to the side” He commands, “and pretend that you’re checking to ensure she is alright.”

She’s fine, he’s fine but their targets, my employers, are in trouble and I have to get them out of it, fast.

I stop watching. Instead I take out my phone and dial the only number there is registered.

“They have them, are you ready?”

A voice shoots down the line.

“What do you take me for? A kid?”

I smile because of course he is a kid and so am I but I keep that to myself and reply,

“This is serious, don’t mess about.” He chuckles.

“I made you smile didn’t I?” I roll my eyes but there’s no point in denying it. It will make him happy and therefore more likely to get on with his job.

“Yes Jason, you made me smile.”

“Good.” He states before ending the call. I know that he’s smiling too.

I’m about to get up and take my position when my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a text with just two words – luv you. I roll my eyes again as I walk through the hall, but my smile is still there. As I reach the door it buzzes again but I leave it. Jason was the most paranoid guy in the world and would most likely be texting me all evening. Usually I’d play along but tonight I had stuff to do.

As I reach the end of the corridor outside the ballroom my phone goes off again. I look around before checking the screen. It’s a crappy burner phone that we’d bought just for this evening; only Jason has the number and only I have his. But the text on my phone isn’t from him.

I swallow. My shoulders tense. I open the message.

I know you’re here Alex; you don’t have to do this. Just come home.

I grit my teeth, not allowing the stinging in my eyes to amount to anything. Stuffing the phone deep into my pocket I carry on down the corridor. Of course he’d know I was here, of course he’d find the number to my phone and of course he’d ask me to come home. I’d been a fool to think he wasn’t here because of me. Well he was going to be let down then, because he wasn’t going to find me and I certainly wasn’t going home.

My phone is buzzing again sending vibrations down my thigh. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t want him changing my mind. But I check the phone and a small sigh of relief escapes my lips as I see the text is from Jason. He wants to know if I’m all right because he can’t see me at my post.

Yeah I’m fine – I text and hurry down the hall.

I reach my hand out ahead of me as I approach the door and I catch a glimpse of the time on my watch. I’m late. Flying through the door now I jog up the marble staircase before finding the hotel room we had booked earlier – room 308. My eyes scan the golden number as I swipe the key card, the light flashes green.

Once I’m inside I cross the room, heading straight for the square window beside the double bed. I knock on the glass once, then twice and see the flash of a torch bounce against the window. That was the signal; Jason knows I am here. Working quickly, I grab a tissue from the bedside table, roll it up into a tube and step on to the bed. I have a lighter in my pocket, we’d bought it at the same place as the phones so it wouldn’t last, but it didn’t need to. I retrieve it and after a couple of flicks a small flame shoots from the tip. Then, taking the tissue, I hold the flame to one end and watch as the glowing light licks the white material. It catches alight; I let it burn for a few seconds then my lips form a circle and I blow it out. A thin trail of smoke creeps up in the air. All I need to do now is lift the smouldering tissue up to the smoke detector above my head and we’re good to go.

The alarm pierces through the air. I press my palms against my ears, grimacing as the sound slices my eardrums.

In hindsight I shouldn’t have been that stupid but I was.

I gasp as the still hot tissue touches the skin on my forehead, my fingers unfurl and I drop the burning tissue. Panicking, I hurry to pick it up and scowl at the black circle left on the duvet cover. Seething at myself for being so reckless I flip the duvet over, throw the tissue out the window and dash from the room. Closing my eyes to shut out the pain.