Red X: Urban Legend

"Roland..." Her face was rosy. Her upper chest was sunset-red.

"My god... Roland, you're still inside me."

He held her head, and gave a long, sensual lick up her neck. First at her clavicle, then warm and slow on her throat, and finally ending with a moan beneath her ear.

Her ear, he kissed delicately.

"I love you endlessly. You're heaven, to my world."

He kissed her again.

"Moon to my night. Song to my soul."

She knew he was serious.

"O Joy of My Heart." He smiled kindly, like sharing a great wisdom, or a great truth.

As much as love can love, Roland loved her. Roland loved Elissa, and would always love her. It was a truth measured beat by beat, breath after breath. As long as he was alive, he was in love with her. And Roland was good at being alive...

His life and love shared a common spring.

It was her.

Chapter Five: Moonlight

"I did NOT flirt with that Bavarian Duchess!" Winters kicked the Audi into third gear, spun the wheel, and cornered the block noisily.

At 3am, the city lights were a blank-faced circus. Just white glares, punctuated by frigid silence. The streets were colourless. It was a chilly netherworld.

For Winters, it was a cold hell of nerves, reflexes, and sheer guts, and every other second was a crucible dividing life and death. Agent Winters was a virtuoso in these moments, delivering an unmatched performance with his Audi. Its growling engine was his trained monster. He was at home in this strange nightmare.

"Aw, yeah, sure. Bitch finally offered you the attaché case, and you said 'Leaving already?' Face it, Roland - you have a thing for inaccessible women. It must be some personal inclination.

"And...'Bavarian Duchess?' That's fucking clichéd, dude." Elissa reloaded her pistol with armour-piercing rounds, and re-positioned to fire on their pursuers.

"No, wait - I got an idea... roadblocks here and here... aww, fuckin'-A!"

Roland Winters had that look again. The one that preceded insanity, bizarre success, and childish gloating. That spark in his eye that set things ablaze. The streetlights whipped across his evil smile, as he accelerated.

He tested his grip on the steering wheel. His hands tightened grimly. He was strangling the odds into his favour.

"What are we doing?" Elissa asked. She crouched back into the passenger seat, and looked to him for instruction. The engine rose feverishly.

"Roland - roadblock." She warned him.

"Roland? ROLAND? SPIKES! Roland? ROLAND, WHAT THE-"

And Roland revved the car hard, driving at the spike trap as it it wasn't there. He aimed at the German cop who quickly panicked, and who smartly stepped into an alley.

"FICKKK!" the cop swore.

At that moment, everyone hated Roland Winters. Everyone. The goons chasing him, the Special Deployment Commandos who were basically German SWAT, the cop who wasn't paid enough to dodge kamikaze cars, and even Elissa, who clutched her seat with pale knuckles.

But some stunt-drivers are skilled enough, they can drive on the side wheels of their car. This is called sidewall skiing. This is no bullshit. This is something Roland achieved, at least for a brief moment. He accomplished this while two wheels drove in the narrow space outside the spike trap - where it was safe.

His car lurched sideways, and lifted up like a dog marking a tree. Roland made the car step over the spikes.

The pursuers weren't close enough to see this trick. At 3am, they saw the same blur of lights as anyone else. They followed at full speed, and spikes shredded their wheels. Sparks shrieked from the metal rims. Their vehicles ground slowly and painfully to a stop. The embarrassment alone could've killed them.

The cops looked at them with cold, shark-like eyes. There were explanations needed here, but it was all above the cops' pay grade. Some of them would be bought-off handsomely.

By this point, Roland and Elissa were long gone. Mist in the night.

"Schön," he grinned at her.

"What?" she craned her neck.

"I said 'schön' to that Duchess. It means 'nice.' The word 'schon' means 'already,' and 'schön' means 'nice.'

"See, I was glad to have business done. I just said schön. Just like 'Nice Doing Business.' She offered the attaché case, and we finished a sweet deal... Done.

"There's a German joke, y'know. A lover has to leave, and their partner says 'Already?' (The word schon.) It's better than if the lover has to leave, and the partner says 'Nice.' (The word schön.) This joke is kinda classic...

"But it suits us, in a way: I had to leave for Latvia, and there was pain and confusion."

Elissa looked at him sadly. In the passing streetlights, her brow was pale as the moon.

"Like Selene? What a bitch, eh? Amazing what rumours can do." Roland was plucky as ever. Either he didn't give a shit about Selene, or his plans were already in motion.

"But now we're clear, and we're outta here. We're done... ALREADY." He grinned a bunch of teeth at her, like playful mocking.

"Nice," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can we get a hotel now?" She rubbed her temples wearily.

"Nah. Let's get a motel..." His hand went to her knee. They shared a furtive smile.

A moment passed.

"I fucking love you, y'know." His voice was low and real. It told her everything that was important, now that they'd escaped with their lives.

"Y'know," she quipped, "I love fucking you..." Her wit played with him, because it was happy in his company.

She swapped out the clip from her pistol, and checked to be sure the chamber was clear. She held it with one hand, twisted her body, and tucked it back into her concealed holster.

They were as safe as they'd ever be. Another day, another escape. They'd report their success to The Agency, and keep moving.

The car settled to a relaxed drone, like it was deep in thought. The night air seemed to be struck dumb.

They spat in the face of death, they stole the impossible, and they thrived. When there's no margin for bullshit, you learn the real truths about people around you.

They were in love.

They continued driving into the night.