Luis Serra Navarro

Until now, only Leon knew that he had survived, and the agent was so tight-lipped at the moment that he probably wouldn’t rat him out anyway. He had found himself a small apartment in London.. nothing special. One room, a bed, a small kitchen, and a bathroom… but that was all he needed. He worked under a false name at a perfectly ordinary pharmacy, and that was only possible because he’d met the owner at a party, convinced him of his talent, and was allowed to start without any credentials. Be that as it may, none of that mattered… what was far more important was his experience. 

As he was about to head to work that morning, he heard the click-clack of high heels on the asphalt. Nothing out of the ordinary… in London, many women wore high heels even while exercising. But then his gaze fell on that unmistakable silhouette: a tight black dress, topped with a sort of trench coat that flattered her figure, sunglasses, and everything about the woman’s body language said, “Don’t talk to me, or I’ll kill you.”

“Ada, my love! I wonder if this is a coincidence, or if you were somehow looking for me because you never believed I was dead… and because you missed me terribly.”

His smile was genuine, his Spanish accent still very pronounced.