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“Monarch, we need to get Dip and Comic together.”
The pilot looked between his WSO and his aforementioned wingmen. They were currently engaged in some kind of argument, but they were too far away to hear any of it.
“Romantically?”
Prez nodded. “Yes, exactly! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed their chemistry.”
Monarch scratched the top of his flight mask. “I mean, they are friends.”
Prez rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, they are, but I can tell that could change for the better.” She suddenly snapped her fingers. “I have an idea!”
“Fire away,” Monarch said, using the exact same tone he used during missions.
“What if we left ‘confessions’ in their lockers, pretending to be the other? Maybe they already have romance bubbling in their hearts, and just need a nudge to free it!”
Monarch just looked at her, then shrugged. “Sure.”
Prez grabbed his hand and yanked him away from the hangar. “Alright, we’ll need to brainstorm what a love confession from both of them would sound like. Plus, we’ll need to make sure they’re both distracted, and…”
While she led him away, Diplomat and Comic finished their argument in a huff, and walked in opposite directions.
Later that evening, Comic sighed and went to her locker to change for the night. Their contract in the Creole Republic was paying well, and the tropics were a nice change of pace from the rest of the periphery states, but it had been a while since Hitman team had actually been sent on a mission. It was Kaiser’s idea, keeping them close by as the main line of base defense if needed.
At first it was nice to relax, but it was starting to prove a bit maddening.
When she got her locker open, a piece of paper fell out. Curious, she picked it up and read it.
Eve,
I need to admit something.
I’ve fallen in love with you. Do you feel the same?
-Peter
There was a heart and a butterfly drawn under the message.
Eve’s eyes went wide when she finished reading, and she read it a couple more times just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
She looked around, but no one else was in the sleeping quarters with her.
“When did he…?” she asked herself, then shook her head. This had to be a prank of some kind, clearly.
...but if it was, why did she…
She shook her head again and stopped that line of thinking dead. The easiest way to find out would be to go to the supposed culprit.
Meanwhile, Diplomat got to his own locker, and pulled it open. At first, he didn’t notice the note that had fallen to the bottom, but he did once he pulled out his sleeping clothes. He didn’t think twice about picking it up and reading it.
Peter, I have to get something off my chest. All this time we’ve spent together, and… I think I’ve fallen in love with you. I don’t know how else to describe it. I just… feel warm inside when you’re around, or when you make those dumb jokes that I secretly love.
Please tell me you feel the same way about me.
-Eve
Peter read and re-read the note several times. This wasn’t real, was it? Sure, he had known Eve for a while, and she did seem to enjoy being around him but… he had thought they were just friends!
A pair of footsteps approached from behind, and he whirled around to see Monarch.
“Monarch! I, uh, need to ask you something,” he said, hiding the letter behind him, just in case.
Monarch nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Well, you see, uh…” He looked around the room, then back at Monarch, then back at a particularly interesting empty corner. After a moment of this, he sighed, and held out the letter. “I… found this in my locker.”
Monarch took the letter and read over it quickly. When he was done, he looked back at Peter.
“I… don’t know how to feel about this,” Peter said. After a moment, he hastily added, “O-or if it’s even real. Robin isn’t playing a prank on me is she?”
Monarch stared at him for a moment. The flight mask he was still wearing betrayed no emotion. “I don’t think so.”
Peter paced back and forth, hand on his chin in thought. “Then, if this is real… if Eve really…” He looked back at Monarch. “What should I do?”
“Could go ask her.”
Peter froze in place. “Wait, I- I couldn’t do that. She’s, uh, probably already in bed, and… I wouldn’t want to intrude, you know?”
Monarch looked at his watch. “It’s only seven PM.”
“Oh, haha, right…”
After a moment, Peter took a deep breath. “I’ll go see if she’s still up, then.”
With that, he left the room. Soon after he left, Robin entered, grinning from ear to ear. “Well? I take it the note worked?”
Monarch nodded.
“Excellent. We’ll see if this is the spark they needed.” Her smile turned into a frown. “You could’ve at least put more effort into your note, though. I’m not sure if Comic will buy it, you know?”
Monarch shrugged.
“Yeah, yeah, man of few words, I get it.” She looked behind her, then grabbed Monarch’s hand. “Come on, we should go and check on them.”
Monarch simply let himself get dragged out of the room.
“Hey, Dip. Been looking for you.”
Peter jumped at Eve’s voice and turned around. “O-oh, hey, Mick. I was, uh, just looking for you, too.”
Eve arched an eyebrow. “You okay there? You seem nervous, and we’re not even in the air.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Very funny.” His nerves quickly went back into full force, and he looked away. “Anyway, uh, I wanted to… ask you about something.”
Eve’s eyes widened for a split second, but she recovered before he noticed. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Peter slowly brought out the folded-up letter. “Did you, um, leave this in my locker?”
A rush of emotions went through Eve’s head, but she settled on showing relief. “Ah, so you got one too, then.”
Peter’s nervousness gave way to confusion. “Too?”
Eve pulled out her own note. “I found this in my own locker. I take it you didn’t do that?”
“No, I didn’t leave anything there.” He looked at the folded paper in his grasp. “So I guess you didn’t, either?”
“Nope.” She pocketed her own note. “Dip, I think we’ve been duped.”
“Oh, huh.”
Eve smirked. “Aww, is someone disappointed?”
Peter recoiled. “W-what? No, of course I knew it wasn’t real. I just had to make sure.”
Laughter filled the hallway. “Eh, don’t sweat it. Someone tried to prank us, and it didn’t work. We just have to figure out who did it. Personally, my money’s on Prez, but you never know.”
“Let’s just… forget this happened, okay?” Peter pleaded. “Whoever did it, they’d probably want us to react in some way, or make a scene. Pretending there was nothing is probably the best move here.”
“Hmm, good point… Alright, you convinced me. I’m heading to bed, then.”
“Wait, it’s only seven.”
“I like my sleep, Dip.” Eve turned around, gave a small wave, and started walking away. “G’night.”
“Night.” Peter took one more look at the note, slowly pocketed it, and returned to his sleeping quarters.
In the nearby janitor’s closet, Robin frowned. “Dammit, it didn’t work,” she whispered.
“First attack isn’t always enough,” Monarch said, only slightly squashed into her thanks to the tight space.
“Don’t worry, I’m not giving up. We’ll have to come up with another angle of attack.” She turned to smile at Monarch, even though he likely couldn’t see it in the dark. “Just like flying, right?”
Monarch shrugged. “I guess.”
“Glad you’re on board, Monarch.” She opened the door to the closet and walked into the hall. Her partner in crime followed right after her. “Let’s call it a night, then. We’ll continue planning tomorrow, okay?”
Monarch gave a two-finger salute “Copy that, Prez.”
Robin giggled to herself, and they parted ways.
The next day, Diplomat and Comic acted no different than they did before: lounging around base both with each other and alone, occasionally breaking into small arguments. Prez was far from discouraged, though, and once she was ready for the day, she tracked down Monarch so they could continue their plans.
“So, faking love confessions didn’t work,” she began. “Any other ideas?”
For once, Monarch seemed to put some actual thought into their matchmaker mission. “Lock them in a closet together until they confess themselves?”
“Nah, nah, too direct.” Prez glanced behind her. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Comic would actually kill us if we tried to do that.”
Monarch looked to the other side of the hangar. “Could sabotage some of the bunks. Force them to sleep in the same room, see if anything happens.”
Prez raised an eyebrow. “You know that would affect us and the rest of Sicario here, right? And I don’t think packing them into a room along with everyone else here would help anything.”
Monarch shrugged.
Prez scratched her chin in thought. “Hmm, what if we-”
Suddenly, the base’s PA system crackled to life. “ Hitman team, report to the briefing room. Hitman team, to the briefing room.”
Prez groaned out loud. “Now isn’t the time, Boss…”
Monarch didn’t say anything and simply began walking to the briefing room. Prez quickly fell in step behind him. Soon, Dip and Comic joined up with them.
“About time we got a mission,” Comic said. “My plane was just about burning a hole in the hangar here.”
Dip rolled his eyes. “If it is a mission at all. For all we know, we might just be moving some stuff from one base to another.”
“Fuck it, I’ll take a milk run at this point. I just need to get in the air for a bit.”
“How about you two?” Dip asked, turning to Prez and Monarch. “Think it’s an actual mission?”
“We’ll see,” Monarch answered simply.
Prez remained quiet, oddly, but no one pressed her.
Soon, they entered the briefing room, where Kaiser and Galaxy were already waiting for them.
“Good, everyone’s here,” Kaiser said. He nodded at Galaxy, who turned on a projector to show a radar display.
“The Prime Minister of the Creole Republic is going to be traveling out of the country,” Kaiser began the briefing, “largely as some sort of publicity stunt. Normally, their ground forces would be enough to ensure his safety, but this time the circumstances are a bit different. Two days ago, a total of four fighters were stolen from an airfield near the Creole border. They haven’t been spotted since, so the Prime Minister believes that they will be used against him during this trip, when he’s at his most vulnerable. Because of the shortage of planes for their already-small air force, there’s a brief window where he’d have no air cover from them at all. Whether or not he’s right about the stolen planes being used against him, he’s asked us to provide some air cover for his journey during that window, just in case.”
“Problem is, he doesn’t want it to be known that he asked mercs for protection, even a little,” Galaxy continued. “Because of that, he’s requesting that we only send a single plane into the air for this mission.” He turned to face Hitman team. “So, which one of you would like to get in the air?”
They all looked at Comic. She was about to raise her hand, then sighed. “If he only wants one plane, Monarch would be the best bet. He’s the best out of all of us, after all.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Dip added. “Guess we’ll stay on the ground a bit longer…”
Kaiser nodded. “Then it’s settled. Monarch, Prez, go saddle up, you need to rendezvous with the Prime Minister in an hour.”
Monarch looked at Prez. Because of their proximity, he was the only one who noticed a certain look in her eye. He knew that meant she just got an idea.
Her hand went up slowly. “Actually, uh, could I sit this one out, boss?”
Everyone looked at her, confused. “Something wrong?” Galaxy asked.
“Uh, well…” Prez looked away. “It’s, uh… feminine issues.”
Almost immediately, everyone present nodded in understanding. “Well, uh, okay then,” Kaiser said. He looked directly at Monarch. “Can you do this solo?”
Prez glanced back at Monarch and winked. He knew what she was trying to do, so he played along. “Best plane for this job would be an F-14,” he explained. “I need a WSO.”
Galaxy looked between the members of Hitman team. “Well, other than Prez, who else could handle your flying?”
Monarch pointed at Dip. “Diplomat, I’m counting on you.”
Dip blinked. “Me? Uh, okay.”
“We’re burning daylight, people,” Kaiser reminded them. “Monarch, Dip, go get ready for take off.”
The two men saluted and left. With no more reason to stay, Prez and Comic did the same shortly after.
Once they were alone, Galaxy tried to leave, too, but Kaiser stopped him. “Dom, I think Robin is up to something.”
“What? What makes you say that?”
“I’ve seen her and Monarch take missions for a while now, and I’m almost certain that ‘feminine issues’ were never enough to keep her out of the air.”
Dominic shrugged. “Maybe this one was worse?”
Kaiser went over to a computer and typed into it. “Or maybe…” He finished typing and stepped aside. “...it has something to do with this?”
He had pulled up security cam footage of a hallway in the sleeping quarters. There, Comic and Diplomat shared some sort of talk before separating to go to bed. Shortly after, Prez and Monarch emerged from a janitor’s closet, and they, too, parted ways.
Dom raised an eyebrow. “What, you think Prez and Monarch are hooking up? Why would she want to stay away from him, then?”
Kaiser shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Dom. For one, I know what it looks like when two soldiers leave a closet after a shag, and that wasn’t it.” He turned around. “I’m more focused on what Hitman 2 and 3 were doing right before.”
Dom just stared at him. “Which means…?”
“I think Robin is trying to play matchmaker for Eve and Peter, and is dragging Monarch along for the ride.”
“Ooooh, that makes sense,” Dom said. “So, what, should we stop her?”
Kaiser shook his head. “Not until it endangers our operations here. And for now, I don’t see it doing that.”
“Well, okay then.” Dom scratched the back of his head. “Funny, I’m convinced that Prez and Monarch would become a couple first. They always go up in the air together, after all.”
Kaiser chuckled. “Have you seen the way Comic and Diplomat interact? It’s a wonder they weren’t a couple a month after they joined Sicario.”
They shared a laugh, but it soon gave way to intense gazes.
“I put a hundred bucks on Monarch and Prez hooking up first,” Dom said, holding out a hand.
“You’re on,” Kaiser accepted the handshake.
Meanwhile, Comic and Prez went to the mess hall together for some lunch.
“Sorry that Monarch didn’t pick you as his WSO for today,” Prez said.
Comic shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t like flying backseat anyway. I don’t trust being on a plane I’m not flying myself.” After a moment, she added, “No offense.”
“Oh, it’s fine, everyone’s different.” She bit into her sandwich. “So, since we’re here, mind if I ask you something, girl to girl?”
Comic nodded. “Sure thing. What’s on your mind?” She took a sip of water while waiting for the question.
“Is there anyone in Sicario you have a crush on?”
Comic’s eyes went wide and she choked on her water. After coughing for a bit, Prez smiling apologetically all the while, she managed to say, “W- What?”
“It’s just something I thought about,” Prez said. “I’ve overheard some other mercs in the past talk about us or the other women here the same way, so I’m curious if you had anyone you had your eye on.”
Comic narrowed her eyes. “Were you the one that left those notes in my locker and Dip’s?”
Prez felt her blood run cold, but she didn’t show it. “Notes?”
Comic stared her down for a moment, then looked away. “Sorry, nevermind.” She looked around the mess hall. Other mercs were milling about here and there, but none of them were within earshot. “How about you? You got the hots for anyone?”
Now it was Prez’s turn to get flustered. “What?”
Comic smirked. “Oh, don’t tell me you and Monarch are a thing? You two go up in the same plane all the time, after all.”
“I- It’s not like that!” Prez shifted in her seat. “We’re just… friends. Good friends.”
“Uh huh. Yep. I believe that.” Comic couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off her face if she wanted to.
Prez pouted. “Well, what about you and Dip? You two fight so much, I wonder if you’re secretly lovers sometimes.”
Comic’s grin disappeared, and she blushed just as hard as Prez. “We’re not-! Look, he’s just a friend, too, okay?”
Prez was still flustered herself, but she still saw the opening and went for it. “I mean, Dip’s not that bad a guy. Even outside of the whole pretty boy former-noble thing, I could see girls falling for him, easily.”
She noticed Comic bristle a bit, so she decided to reel it back. “Plus, all that time you two spend together… it just kinda… gives off a certain impression, you know?”
Comic looked into her sandwich. “I… suppose you’re right.” She looked back up at Prez. “We’re still not a couple in secret, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“And I’m not one with Monarch.” Prez nodded to herself. “So we have the misunderstandings in common, at least.”
They stared at each other for a moment, before breaking into a giggle fit. “You’re alright, Prez.”
“Same to you, Mick.”
Comic laughed. “Hey, only Dip calls me that!”
Now it was Prez’s turn to smirk. “Why just him?”
“Because… Well, he’s…” Comic seemed to realize the corner she was put into, and looked away. “Nevermind.”
Prez considered this a victory for now, and got up. “Well, I’m gonna go take another look at everyone’s planes. It passes the time, at least.”
Comic nodded. “Alright, Prez. Be seeing you.”
As soon as Prez was out of her sight, she gave a celebratory fist pump.
She had made progress on getting Comic to realize her feelings, even if only a little. She just hoped that Monarch was able to do the same with Dip…
The mission had been an easy success. Just as the Prime Minister feared, four hostile planes appeared to try and take him out during Monarch’s watch. Unfortunately for them, a single deployment of MLAAs was enough to take three down outright. The last one tried to turn tail and run, but Monarch was on his tail quick and gunned him down.
Dip was left groaning from the high-G maneuvers, but he was still conscious, which is a lot better than most people did as his WSO before Prez took the spot.
Once other members of the Creole air force appeared to relieve Monarch of his watch, he turned around to RTB with little fanfare.
The flight back was a relatively short one, but it was still long enough for Monarch to try and prod Dip a little.
“Diplomat.”
“Uh, yeah, Monarch?” His wingman was clearly not used to Monarch initiating conversation.
“You like Comic, right?”
“Huh? Where’s this coming from?”
“Answer the question, Hitman 2.”
Dip shivered at Monarch’s tone of voice. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, he could be rather commanding. He was the flight lead for more reasons than just his skill. “Well, I mean, she’s a great friend and wingman.”
Monarch nodded. It was an answer he expected. “Do you ever think of her as anything… more?”
“More? Like… You mean like that letter that was left in my locker?”
“Yeah.” Monarch thought about how to word his next sentence without giving away his involvement. “I assume it wasn’t real?”
“Nah, someone was trying to prank me and Comic,” Dip said. Despite his nonchalant tone, Monarch thought he heard a tinge of disappointment, too.
“Did you want it to be real?”
Dip managed to choke on his own saliva. “W- What?”
“You heard me.”
Dip wanted to argue back, to try and come up with something clever to say, but he was drawing a blank. “...I don’t want to talk about it.”
Monarch considered pressing more, but decided against it. “Suit yourself.”
The rest of the flight back to base was silent until the Sicario ATC hailed them on the radio. Once they landed and got out of the plane, Monarch spotted Prez waiting near one of the hangars.
She gave a thumbs up, and Monarch returned it.
When Prez saw Monarch’s confirmation, she couldn’t help doing another small fist pump.
Operation: Lovebirds was going smoothly so far, but she knew that there was still progress to be made. Once Monarch and Dip were debriefed, she’d have to link up with her fellow Hitman 1 and figure out their next move.
Up in the control tower, Galaxy spotted both thumbs up from Prez and Monarch. He lowered his binoculars and smirked.
He had a feeling it would be close, but he was still confident he’d win that $100 from Kaiser.
“What’s the plan for today, Prez?”
Prez jumped at the voice. “Oh, Monarch, you scared me!”
He shrugged. “You looked pretty distracted.”
She rubbed the back of her head. “Yeah, sorry, just trying to think of what our next step for Operation: Lovebirds should be.”
Monarch chuckled, a rare sound. “You came up with an operation name?”
Prez blushed slightly. “Shut up! Thinking of it like that helps me focus!”
Monarch relented.
Once she got over her embarrassment, Prez went right back to thinking. “Maybe we could… no, that would be too obvious. Or if we…?”
“We could try making them jealous,” Monarch suddenly said.
Prez snapped up. “Wait, that could work!” She turned to walk away. “You go find Comic. I’ll talk to Dip in the hangar, try and bring her there in about twenty minutes, okay?”
Monarch gave a thumbs up, and they parted ways.
Comic was sitting alone in the mess hall when Monarch found her. She didn’t notice him approaching, so he made the first move.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Comic jumped, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Oh, hey, Monarch. Sure, go ahead.”
She kept eating her mystery casserole (whatever it was, at least it was edible this time) while Monarch took a seat. “So, what’s up?” she asked between bites.
Monarch took a moment to think about what to say.
“How’s your plane doing?”
Comic gave him an odd look. “Uh, fine, since I haven’t taken it out in so long. Besides, isn’t that something Prez would know, anyway?”
Monarch hit his leg softly under the table. Of course, that was a stupid line to start with. “She’s, uh, busy. Figured I’d chat with other members of Hitman to pass the time.”
Comic nodded. “Right, I understand. Not much else to do on this base besides eat, sleep, and talk.” She ate another fork-full of food. “So, how was the mission yesterday? Dip didn’t mess up as your WSO, I take it?”
Monarch shrugged. “He did alright. It was an easy mission anyway, only four hostiles.”
Comic laughed. “Really? Because the one time he flew backseater for me way back, he kept fumbling and shooting out the wrong missiles. “ She laughed again and looked away. “It was kinda cute…”
Monarch snapped up. “What?”
“Oh, uh, nothing!” Comic looked around the room, eager for something to change the subject. “Hey, Monarch, want the rest of my food?”
“No thanks, I’m full.”
For a moment, Comic’s panic gave way to confusion. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her flight lead eat.
The panic quickly returned, however. “Well, uh, we could look for Dip and Prez. See if the four of us could get into any trouble.”
Monarch glanced at his watch. It was a bit early for when Prez said to bring Comic to the hangar, but hopefully things would still go according to plan. “Sure. Pretty sure Prez is in the hangar.”
“Great, let’s go!” Comic rushed up to dispose of her food and leave the mess hall. Monarch scrambled to keep up.
Meanwhile, in the hangar, Prez led Dip over to his plane at a brisk walk.
“Woah, slow down,” he said. “What’s the issue?”
“I just, uh, had some ideas for some modifications to your plane,” Prez came up with an excuse. “I want you here to tell me right away if something is a good or bad idea.”
“Well, okay.” Dip looked at his Mig. “Last time I flew, I didn’t notice any problems, though.”
Prez quickly opened a maintenance hatch on the fuselage. “That doesn’t mean there’s nothing worth changing!” She poked around inside, but quickly realized that everything was still just as topped off and clean as it was the last several times she checked during their down time. Nevertheless, she pretended to fiddle with something. “Maybe we could push this baby to turn just a bit faster, or withstand just a few more G’s!”
“Woah, slow down, Prez.” Dip patted her back quickly. “We don’t need to fix what isn’t broken, here.”
Prez knew she was running out of excuses to keep Dip here, so she switched her plan of attack slightly and removed herself from inside the plane. “Well, how about your armaments? You finally went on a mission yesterday, so maybe you felt like changing something for the future?”
Dip scratched his head and looked at the missiles loaded under the wings. “I don’t think so. I already have both air and ground missiles, same as always. That always seems to work.”
Prez felt herself sweating. At this rate, Dip would leave before Monarch could bring Comic here, and their plan wouldn’t work.
Suddenly, she got an idea. “In that case, we should do a quick check to make sure nothing is rusting over. It is pretty humid in this part of the world, you know?”
“I… guess?”
“Great!” Prez went to her toolbox and pulled out a pair of wrenches. “Now, help me check under the flaps and everything. Gotta make sure it’s all good and rust-free.”
“Uh, couldn’t we run diagnostics the usual way?”
Prez laughed. “Trust me, I do it faster the manual way, especially since we’re just looking for rust, not the usual wear and tear.”
After a moment, Dip just shrugged. “Alright, you’re the mechanic here.”
Prez walked him through pulling the wing flaps up manually. It wasn’t long before, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Monarch and Comic.
She smirked to herself. Now was the time to start her plan.
Prez looked at what she was doing, took a deep breath, then purposefully let her wrench come free to smack herself in the opposite wrist. Even though she did it on purpose, it still hurt, and she made sure to drop the wrench at the same time. “Ow, fuck!”
Dip snapped up from his work. “What happened? You okay?”
Prez hissed in pain and held her injured wrist. “Yeah, just smacked myself on accident. I’ve had worse.” If she guessed right…
“Hold on, let me take a look real quick.”
Prez had to fight to keep a smile off her face. She had a feeling that someone from a political family would have a reflex for checking on wounded women, let alone someone like Diplomat.
She let him inspect her bruised wrist, and she didn’t do anything to suppress the winces whenever he pressed on it.
“You sure you’re okay?” Dip asked. “That seems pretty painful.”
Prez knew that, from a distance, it looked like Dip was quite aggressively holding her hand.
Perfect.
When Comic and Monarch reached the hangar, they heard Prez dropping a wrench and cursing, so they hurried to see what happened.
Once they got around Dip’s plane, they saw what looked like the plane’s owner diligently holding their crew chief’s hand.
Monarch kept a close eye on Comic’s reaction. He could tell she was concerned for Prez, but the longer he watched, the more he noticed that concern slowly dripping away.
It looked like Prez’s plan worked.
By now, Dip had noticed them standing there. “Hey, can you guys get some-“
He didn’t get to finish, because Comic stormed off without a word. Monarch looked at her leaving, and noticed a single drop of liquid had fallen on the ground where she walked.
Maybe Prez’s plan worked too well.
Monarch went to Prez and Dip and produced an ice pack from one of his pockets. He removed Dip’s hands from her wrist and applied it. “That better?”
Prez hissed at the cold, then nodded.
“Wait, why’d you already have that on you, Monarch?” Dip asked.
“Prez hurts herself a lot,” he answered. “I try to be prepared.”
Dip nodded in understanding, while Prez couldn’t stop a bit of a blush. He really…?
“So, what was up with Comic?”
Dip’s question broke her from her thoughts, and her skin paled as Hitman 3’s reaction finally sunk in.
Monarch looked at where Comic left, then turned back to Dip. “I think you should talk to her.”
“Huh? About wh-“
“About how you feel about her.”
Monarch’s bluntness made Dip sputter, and Prez looked at her trusted pilot as if betrayed.
That sense of betrayal evaporated at Dip’s next words. “H- how did-“
Monarch took Prez by the shoulder and walked away with her. Before he left, he turned to say one more thing.
“Chances are, she feels the same way.”
With that, Dip was left alone in the hangar, very confused about what to do. Eventually, he made up his mind, and followed after Eve.
Back in the control room, Kaiser and Galaxy watched the events unfold on the camera feed with rapt attention. Once Diplomat had left the hangar, Kaiser stood up straight and stretched.
“Well, Dom, it looks like it’ll be a dead heat,” he said. “It all depends on whether or not Peter can get through to Eve before Robin realizes how she feels.”
“Yeah…” Dom shook his head. “I hope this doesn’t ruin things between Eve and Peter. It looked like she was really upset.”
Kaiser shrugged. “If things get bad enough, we can always call off the bet and step in. For now, though…” He looked back at the monitor and flipped through the cameras. “...we have to just sit and watch.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
Despite his best efforts, Diplomat couldn’t find Comic anywhere on the base. He eventually caved and went to ask Kaiser if he had seen her anywhere. According to him, Comic had abruptly decided to go to the nearest town for a bit. Kaiser assured him that she’d probably be back before dark, but Dip didn’t stick around long enough to question why Kaiser would reassure him about that.
Instead of trying to chase after her and risk missing her entirely, Dip simply paced back and forth at the base’s main gate, and kept running through what he was going to say once he saw Eve again.
Meanwhile, Monarch and Prez sat in one of the currently-empty ATC towers and watched Dip through binoculars.
Eventually, Prez said, “I think we screwed things up bad.”
Monarch said nothing, but nodded.
“We were just trying to make Comic a bit jealous,” Prez continued, “I didn’t think she’d react like that.”
“It was my idea,” Monarch said. “I’ll take the blame on this one.”
Prez wanted to argue, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I just hope Dip can salvage things by talking to her.”
Time passed, and the sun began to set, before a motorcycle appeared on the horizon.
Monarch confirmed it was Comic, and the two members of Hitman 1 watched with rapt attention.
Dip almost jumped out of his skin when he noticed the approaching motorcycle, and by the time it was let through the gate, Dip realized he still didn’t exactly know what he was going to say.
Eve parked the bike on the opposite side of the gate, and Dip hurried over. “Eve!”
She looked up at his voice, her expression unreadable. Dip could faintly smell alcohol on her person, though it wasn’t very strong.
Her next words felt like a punch in the gut. “What do you want?”
Dip flinched. “I… wanted to talk to you. About something important.”
Comic rolled her eyes. “Doubt it’s too important.”
“It is.”
Eve looked like she wanted to continue snarking off, but mercifully, she let him continue.
“Look, Eve, I’ve…” Dip trailed off, and tried his best to plan through what he was going to say on the fly. “I’ve been thinking, about… about those notes we found in our lockers.”
Comic crossed her arms and leaned against the fence. “The ones we were being punked with.”
“...yeah, those.” He took a moment to collect himself, then pushed on. “I was just wondering… how you felt about that.”
“About what?”
“About what the notes said.”
He expected Comic to be flustered, or try and deny what he was insinuating. He wasn’t expecting her to spitefully laugh right in his face. “Oh, you’re still going with this?”
Dip lost his momentum. “What are you-”
“I had a feeling Robin was behind those notes,” she continued. “I didn’t think you’d be in on it, too, but here we are. A big ol’ joke on Comic, you got me.”
Dip shook his head. “Eve, that’s not-”
“Then what is it, Peter?” she snapped. “If it wasn’t all a big prank at my expense, then what was it?”
Dip felt the words falling out of his mouth before he could think about them. “It’s me saying the notes might’ve been right.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The silence between the two of them felt like it lasted forever, and he couldn’t tell what Eve was thinking.
Eventually, she asked, “What did you and Monarch talk about when you went on that mission?”
“He… asked me if I liked you.” After a moment, he hastily added, “Like, romantically.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Eve’s response to that.
She began laughing again, but this time it was much less angry. “Ah, okay, I think I see what happened here.”
Dip looked at her. “You do?”
“Robin felt like playing matchmaker between us,” Comic explained, “and she got Monarch involved with her scheme.”
Dip was silent for a moment, then it was his turn to laugh. “Well, damn, that makes sense now that I think about it. I thought they were both acting kinda weird lately.”
They shared a laugh for a bit, before falling into another silence. Eventually, Comic spoke up again.
“So… what did you tell Monarch about how you felt about me?”
“Can you tell what they’re saying?”
Monarch grunted. “Not good at reading lips. She doesn’t look mad anymore, at least.”
“They were both laughing,” Prez said. “Hopefully that means everything worked out. Now we just wait for them to kiss and make up.”
Monarch glanced at his WSO. “Still certain they belong together, huh?”
“Well, yeah,” Prez said.
“I never did ask why you thought that.”
Prez hesitated. “Well, I mean, look at them. Even though they’re almost constantly arguing with each other, they’re never too far away from each other on the ground. Not only that, but I’ve seen how they act when they’re not arguing. They have real chemistry together, you know. Like, they bounce off each other almost perfectly.”
Monarch was silent for a moment, then said, “Kinda like us.”
“Yeah, kinda like-” Prez stopped and looked at him. “What?”
“Almost everything you just said applies to us, too,” Monarch said.
Prez’s mind went blank. “I mean… That’s different, you’re… and… uh…”
“Robin.”
It was just her name, but hearing Monarch say it felt weird. “Y-Yeah, Monarch?”
“Was this really about Hitman 2 and 3, or did you just want to work on something with me besides a mission?”
Prez didn’t know what to say. It was like Monarch could see right through her. After a while, she finally answered, “...both?”
She couldn’t bring herself to look at Monarch right now, so she instead turned back to Peter and Eve at the gate. She heard something being taken off, and then, for the first time she could remember, Monarch’s voice unmuffled.
“And if I told you I felt the same way?”
Prez unfortunately missed it when Peter and Eve kissed, but only because she was busy with one of her own.
Both Dom and Kaiser jumped up and cheered at the same time. They looked at each other, and then at the camera feeds they had been watching. Hitman 2 and 3 were kissing on one feed, while both members of Hitman 1 were doing the same in another.
Dom eventually asked, “What do we do if it’s a tie?”
Kaiser laughed. “It ain’t over yet, hotshot. Tiebreaker is whoever takes longer to stop.”
They continued to watch the feeds, each one firmly gripping the $100 they bet.
Not long after, anyone who walked by the base’s control center would hear Galaxy whooping and hollering for some unknown reason.