𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 | ʜᴇʟᴍᴜᴛ ᴢᴇᴍᴏ

𝟏 ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ

Kalina selected the voicemail and placed the phone to her ear. 

"Ma chérie, I was missing your touch, and I want to see you soon. I will fly to Milan tomorrow, you will make time for us to meet..." Marceau's French accent was muffled into the message, as if he was fumbling with the speaker. His request sounded more like a demand as his English was slightly broken. 

Kalina couldn't stomach the idea of meeting with him, but would likely oblige to the offer. She had been in Milan busy with her business for nearly three weeks, and felt the need for the evening company. 

The remainder of the voicemail played and clicked off. Marceau was the son of a rich, French arms dealer and the heir to a fortune of weapons manufacturing. Kalina's social circle still ran high, even more so now that her business had flourished. She sighed once again before locking the screen and placing the phone back in her purse.

With high social status came high media coverage, and every one of Kalina's romantic endeavors was plastered across international entertainment news on a daily basis. She even learned new things about herself she did not know, as the paparazzi and writers came up with highly elaborate stories and gossip to keep the audience interested. She wasn't bothered with this attention, but longed for a bit of privacy. It came with the name, and the profession.

Kalina clicked her heel on the cobblestone and pursed her lips. She scanned the plaza around her, taking in one more deep inhale of calm air, before carrying on to rush toward her meeting. She was running twenty minutes late. Surely Giulia would have already ordered brunch.

-----

undisclosed location, the ural mountain range

2011

The crunching of snow and dirt beneath Helmut's boots was soothing, and reminded him of winter in Sokovia. It was sometime in the spring, but he couldn't tell. The Ural Mountains were angry and bitter with the residual winter climate. Three more pairs of boots pattered footprints behind him lightly, as they walked through a small village in a valley of two tall peaks. His hip holster comforted him, unaware of what threatened his team in the shadows.

They moved under the cover of the evening darkness. Their target was a Russian smuggler, who had recently been involved with the death of an elite Sokovian spy. Their mission: kill on sight. The man was not only wanted for the murder, but dealing in trade that directly affected the Sokovian Armed Forces' acquisition of new, technically innovative weapons systems. He was in their way, and EKO Scorpion was sent to settle the problem. 

Helmut had selected his most trusted assassins for the mission, and set off on foot from their infiltration point. He inhaled the frigid air and nuzzled his head down into the warmth of his scarf. They were dressed to blend in, the purpose of their arrival to be undisclosed to the locals.