Cara rolls over

"I never wanted to give you that job, Karla!" The angry tone of the boss vibrated through the speaker of Samira's earpods.

Immediately after they left the hotpot, they were supposed to head back home for three reasons: Mara hated being outside for long, their elder sister Maya would get worried, and Cara had urgent business.

The earlier text she received while at the table was from the group.

"Minutes in 5."

That was a simple text, but it couldn't be easily interpreted. In fact, a newbie would think it was a grammatical error, but in reality, the text meant:

"Meeting begins in five minutes."

Cara had replied, "Got it," which meant by the time the group meeting started, she was supposed to join it.

Her calculation was to drive her motorbike within two minutes to their home, but while she was waiting for Mara to hop on, Mara received a call.

She took it as an opportunity, wore her helmet, and connected the earpods to her ears. That was the first sentence she heard from her boss. Cara sighed heavily.

She had just blown up another job.

"I'm sorry, boss, it wasn't my intention to miss the target," Karla pleaded from wherever in the world she was currently.

"Shut up!" Boss shouted, his voice echoing probably through the entire base building where they met once in a blue moon.

Cara could hear the tense sigh over the phone, and she knew whose sound it was. It was from Wind, whose real name was Anne Montenegrin.

Cara knew Karla was yet to get used to the boss's anger.

"Axe, pinpoint," Boss ordered, and immediately, Cara knew what it meant. Their computer expert Axe was to find the location of their current target.

Michael Reinhardt is the name of the guy Karla was sent to assassinate.

The quick clicking of buttons didn't last long, and then Axe spoke.

"He's on his way to Munich airport, and he's gonna get there in thirty minutes," Axe said.

"Cara, roll over," Boss said, and immediately, the group meeting ended exactly within five minutes.

"Okay, boss." That was an order she had to immediately carry out; the boss had given her permission to take over the termination of their target.

Cara looked sideways. Mara was still busy on her phone. She wasn't used to guns; almost all her targets were killed through a knife. She knew today she had no choice but to use a silencer. She pressed the locket on her necklace, and it lit to green.

"Perfect," she muttered under her breath. The coordination was ready. Mara walked towards her after her phone call, but she was sullen. Cara immediately knew the reason behind that face. She'd broken up with her two-year boyfriend. Even the tight hug and a few sniffles around her neck made Cara know about her breakup.

"It's fine, there are still many fishes in the ocean."

Cara looked at her sister lovingly. Mara smiled and tapped on Cara's forehead.

"Silly ..., let's go home."

Mara had already sensed her relationship was on a straw, though she felt a little bit down, she knew she would get over it easily.

"I'll make sure I cripple him," Cara muttered silently to herself, giving Mara her helmet. She turned back, feeling anger gnawing at her. She only made one promise in her life: "Never let go of those who mess with her loved ones." And since a douchebag had broken her sister and made her sad, she was going to cripple him, and that was a promise. But for now, she had to finish an urgent task.

When they reached the silent streets of their home, a familiar figure stepped into view, waving them down. Cathie, their long-time friend and occasional troublemaker like Cara, stood by the side of the road, her auburn hair catching the light from a nearby streetlamp. She was dressed in a sleek leather jacket and jeans, her expression a mix of concern and casual indifference. She flashed a mischievous grin as they pulled up.

"Hey, you two," Cathie called out, her voice upbeat despite the tension that clung to the air. "Thought I'd find you here. I was about to head to The Lounge for some drinks. Figured you might wanna join, Mara."

Mara hesitated, biting her lip as she considered the offer. She hadn't talked much about the breakup, but it was clear the wound was still fresh. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden on her sisters, especially Cara, who she knew was already juggling too many ideas in her mind about how she was going to deal with her ex-boyfriend. Yet, the thought of unwinding over drinks, even just for a short while, was tempting.

"Come on, it'll be fun. We can all use a break," Cathie pressed, her eyes darting between the two sisters.

Cara gave her a pointed look, but there was no hostility in it. Cathie had always known when to push and when to back off, and this time, she was pushing just enough. "I'll meet you guys there," Cara said finally, her voice steady but with an edge of urgency. "I need to pick up Richie first. He's waiting for me at the old bus stop near St. Paul's. Shouldn't take long."

Mara nodded, grateful for the reprieve. "Okay. We'll see you there. Don't take too long."

Cathie winked, pulling Mara toward her own car. "We'll keep a seat warm for you, Cara. Just make sure you don't keep Richie waiting too long. You know how he gets."

Cara smirked, adjusting her gloves as she mounted her bike again.

"Drive safely, Cara!" Mara shouted after her as she hurried to her bicycle.

She mounted her racing bike, her mind speeding.

There's only one road to Munich airport.

She wore her helmet and gloves and then started speeding towards the busy road.

"30 minutes," she muttered and raced faster. Richie was their childhood friend, the one constant in their lives that never seemed to change. He was always dependable, always there when they needed him, even if his timing was usually inconvenient. This time, though, she needed his steady presence more than ever. He'd just called at a perfect time because she'll use about twenty-five minutes to finish her job and about two to reach Richie's location since it was just a turn from the airport. She'll just feign ignorance, claiming her bike broke down and that's why she was late.

With a final nod to Cathie and Mara, Cara revved her latest model motorbike, Ducati Panigale V4Rengine, the bike roaring back to life. She took off, her mind sharp and her focus unyielding. The wind whipped around her, a relentless force that matched the urgency she felt. She navigated the busy streets with practiced ease, her thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and timing. She had a mission to complete.

The boss's voice still echoed in Cara's ears, the anger and disappointment in his tone unsettling her more than she'd like to admit. She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task ahead. The streets of Munich were busy, a blur of lights and cars that hardly registered as she sped through them, her bike a roaring beast beneath her. The airport was close, but the timing was tight—thirty minutes to intercept her target before he boarded his flight. She had no room for error and even less time to spare.