. . .
Jinno Di Angelo had a secret, but so did Greissha Ricci.
Despite the UIF's advances in surveillance, Greissha's schemes were still above their capabilities. The second she entered Salvio Iannucci's room, her eyes held the capo's gaze with all seriousness. The two had known each other for years, enough to communicate only with their eyes. Plus, no one would ever guess where these two met—on a lip-reading class they both took for fun back in college.
"I'm here to seduce you," Greissha mouthed, her hand gesturing toward the mic on her dress. "Cooperate."
"What the hell?" Iannucci mouthed back.
"Just do it."
"Mi Amore," Iannucci greeted her, his lips mouthing gibberish complaints between the pause. "I've been waiting for you. What took you so long, my love?"
"I heard you sold me out," Greissha said, her voice sweet, her expressions sour. "Mijo."
Iannucci's eyebrows furrowed, both his arms waving around looking for answers. "Sold you out? What?"
Greissha gave him a death glare, enough to let him know they could not let their covers get blown. He forced out a laughter to cover for the seconds Greissha relayed her message."Pretend you sold me out to Chikamoto."
"I didn't?" He mouthed back, his feet taking slow strides toward Greissha.
"I said pretend!"
"I apologize for that slip-up, Mi Amore," Iannucci enunciated, "Mr. Chikamoto is one of our top clients. I just couldn't have him doubting the integrity of our transaction."
Once Iannucci had a grasp of what was going on, their conversation became smooth sailing that even the most intelligent agents won't get suspicious of.
Their little role-play kept the UIF agents busy taking notes with reddened faces. The sound of their clothes rustling were enough to get their eavesdroppers flushed and disoriented but Greissha had to cover the extreme. The agents should feel embarrassed, too embarrassed to even suspect what was actually happening behind the scene.
"I can't moan," Greissha whispered, only clad in a body suit as her bugged gown was tossed flat on the farthest corner.
"What?"
"Just do it."
Greissha grinned when a shrieking sound came out of Iannucci's mouth in a very feminine voice. It was not the time to have fun but she was having a whole lot of fun.
"So tell me everything," she said after their little sexual stunt, finally giving the UIF's cue for their mission. "The time, the place. I have to know those things at least."
"What do I say?" Iannucci mouthed.
"The truth," Greissha replied.
Salvio Ianucci's eyes rolled back to his head, his throat barely making a sound while clearing itself to sound more masculine for the surveillance team.
"The bombing's taking place in FG&Q Korea," he said with all seriousness, "June 30, 1pm."
"Thank you," Greissha said in a sensuous tone, her eyes rolling back from her head, "Drink's on me."
Salvio Iannucci pushed a button and the doors opened, the sound of blaring music immediately filling the room while blasting the eardrums of the UIF agents at the same time. With dozens of girls squealing in the background, accompanied by very loud techno music, Greissha knew the UIF was off her trail. She took the gown off, brushed past some drunk people, and moved to another room to have a conversation with Salvio Iannucci.
"Wait for me, Mi Amore," Salvio Iannucci said, his tone sensuous and teasing, "Here I come."
Greissha's eyes rolled back to her head, a sense of relief flooding over her as the sound of loud music slowly faded into the distance. "You can drop the act now. They're gone."
Salvio Iannucci dashed toward Greissha, his arms wrapped tightly around her. "Where were you?" he asked, relief taking over the worry on his face. "We were worried sick!"
Greissha tapped his back before breaking away from the hug. Her eyes scanning the room and then landing on the drawers."I was arrested and interrogated as planned," she said, her hands busied themselves rummaging through various drawers. "But the UIF took me into their custody. That was not supposed to happen."
"The UIF? Like, the Union of International Forces?" Salvio Iannucci asked, his hands also full from assisting Greissha, taking into his arms whatever she took out. Pajamas, some papers, and a burner phone. "I didn't expect them to get involved."
Greissha grabbed a shirt from Iannucci's carry-ons, almost toppling everything over had the man's reflexes been slower. "You know about them?"
Iannucci nodded, his other hand passing a strawberry printed trouser to Greissha who had just finished buttoning her shirt up.
"Have I been enjoying myself too much?" Greissha asked, finally dressed and comfortable enough to settle for the couch. "How come I've never heard of them before?"
"Uhm, you know about them. " Iannucci sat on the couch across from her, his arms carefully unloading the burner phone and the papers to the table. "They're the International Military Tribunal—but renamed."
"What?!"
With a clank, the burner phone fell on the table, the papers scattered on the ground. Iannucci had his hand on his chest, his face appalled from shock.
"Goodness! I thought you'd know since it's your father's--"Iannucci bit his tongue, Greissha's deathly glares stopping him mid-sentence.
"I blocked out every news from that person," she said. "No wonder I never heard about this."
Greissha knew nothing about the UIF, thus took her matters lightly—but she knew about the International Military Tribunal like the back of her mind. Recognized as the world's largest and most esteemed military institution, it boasted millions of soldiers, hundreds of fleets, and thousands of squadrons. Under the command of exceptional generals and skilled agents, the International Military Tribunal held a prominent position in the United Nations, wielding authority over the FBI, and exerting control over all military entities worldwide.
They mean power and influence, and the worst part for Greissha was knowing who was sitting at the top of such an important organization.
"Dammit," Greissha hissed. "He meant it when he said he was the law. That bastard!"
Iannucci took notice of Greissha's agitation. "Bastard?" He asked. "Who?"
Greissha's eyes turned a few shades darker, her attention sparing far from mundane thoughts, a smirk forming on her lips. "Do you wanna know a secret?"
"Sure?"
Greissha crossed her arms, a finger tapping her elbows as she strode slowly around the couch—deep in thoughts. "The current commander of the UIF faints at the slightest touch of women," she said. "And what better use for this secret than to use it to my advantage?"
. . .