Everyone has a soul mate.
Even the worst of the worst were found to be deserving of one.
Life was about finding that match, about hearing the words that appeared on your skin on your eighteenth birthday.
Gaby’s words had been haunting her for nearly 10 years, the scar-like mark sat on her right arm on the inside of her wrist, it was inescapable she saw it every time she went to write something down or when she was working under the bonnet of her car and when she glanced at it, it made her feel sick.
Not because of what it said, because what it said was perfectly harmless a simple ‘Stop now’ it was the language that made her stomach twist with unease.
On the inside of her wrist on her right arm was a scar that said остановить сейчас.
Her soul mate was some Russian.
Gaby’s friends all but abandoned her when her mark appeared- how could she be with a Russian after all they had done to German women- as if she had made the decision.
Lately, the mark had begun to get itchy and becoming slightly raised, so whoever it was, soon they would be here to change her life forever. Perhaps for the better most likely for the worst, knowing Gaby’s luck.
Said luck had now landed her in a chase for her life, all to get over a slab of concrete and some wire.
“Ms Teller” Her attention was pulled back to the American sitting in the back seat of her car. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She said shaking the thoughts from her mind.
“Reverse down the sidewalk… then drive around the block and meet me back here.”
The itching was getting worse now. Gaby rubbed her thumb across the raised lettering. Who were they?
Illya Kuryakin, KGBs best did not believe in soul mates. It had been trained out of him. To have a soul mate meant to have a weakness and the KGBs best could not have a weakness.
As new recruits, he and his comrades had been made to think of the words on their bodies as nothing but an early warning. If you should ever hear those words spoken to you, kill them. There was no room for love, only unfailing loyalty for your country was acceptable.
‘Fuck you’ that’s what he read every day when he got ready in the morning.
It lay on his left pectoral muscle, a shade darker than the rest of his skin, he had thought for a brief time about having it removed, as so many of his comrades had done. It wouldn’t change his fate but he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore, but then his mother popped into his mind and he remembered how much she loved his father and how after he was sent away how she would stroke the words he had first spoken to her and he couldn’t do it.
He knew they would appear soon, the mark sitting under his shirt was burning lightly, and it had been ever since Oleg had given him his mission in East Berlin.
He rubbed it slightly as he drove down some derelict street looking for the American and Ms Teller. He had seen them come down this way. His eyes scanned the area looking for the Wartburg 1000 they had been driving.
His chest gave an intense burn but he gritted his teeth and continued his search, Illya paused when he got to the end of the street and thought for a moment.
His brained flashed and he turned the car around stopping right where his mark had started to burn and of course, the car previously parked there was gone.
He caught sight of the shadow of his missing car and took off after it only to have his tire blown out and wind up in a pile of broken wall.
Gaby found herself literally trapped between and rock and a hard place or a wall and a hard place.
“Good plan now all we have to do is get over two 20 foot walls and a mine field. Now, what?”
The American leant over her and opened her driver’s side window.
“Take another left through the window”
Standing on an apartment building roof looking into West Berlin gave Gaby a hopeful feeling. She was so close to being free.
The American was signalling someone over the wall as someone else was trying to force open the roof hatch, the sound of bullets hitting it made her wince.
Gaby rubbed her fingers against the Cyrillic on her wrist. It was hurting now. She knew what was about to happen but she refused to acknowledge it.
Napoleon looked over his shoulder and saw his tail climbing up and over the ledge of the building ‘come on Jones.’ He flashed his torch again. ‘Christ that man is huge’
The hook finally attached around nearby chimney set and Napoleon reached for Ms Teller. The second he touched her waist a deep angry voice yelled out.
“Остановить сейчас!” He felt Ms Teller freeze beside him, her hand suddenly clutching at her wrist. Napoleon frowned when she pulled away.
Gaby’s mark was burning her now, urging her to move towards the voice that spoke its words. ‘Don’t turn around, don’t turn around… Oh my god what are you doing!’
Without her consent, Gaby’s body had turned and now she was facing the man who had been chasing her. He was tall- god he was tall and she could see the blue of his eyes from here, they looked so angry. His hands were twitching and all she wanted to do was hold them. She knew this man without even knowing him. She could feel the torment in him.
Gaby winced when her mark pulsed sending another wave over her ‘Go to him’ it screamed.
And there it was.
The words he was dreading hearing.
The end of his life as he knew it.
Gabriella Teller, of course, it’s her.
He tried to remember his training on how to handle the initial feeling he was told to expect but nothing could prepare him for the feeling of utter comfort he felt from her. It almost brought him to his knees. This Tiny little defector bringing a Warrior to his knees. The thought almost made him smile.
Napoleon watched the pair with confusion. ‘What on earth…’
Ms Teller was suddenly moving towards the frozen Goliath at the end of the roof. Napoleon reached to pull her back, they needed to leave, right now but she just shook him off.
“Ms Teller what are you doing” She ignored him her focus solely on the man in front of her.
He looked actually frightened by her approach, she was someone he could crush with his thumb and he was afraid of her. His hand rose and rubbed a spot on his shirt clutching at it like Gaby had clutched at her wrist and suddenly he understood. As children, they had been taught what to expect when they met their soul mate but he had never witnessed it before, the merging of two souls.
Napoleon remembers his own mark and how he used to wait for the sudden itch to start every time he met someone new but it had yet to happen.
“Oh my god” He sighed.
Finally, they reached each other and Gaby extended her right hand towards him. Illya flinched away so she paused looking up into his eyes.
“Stop” He begged his voice sounding broken.
Gaby smiled and let her hand fall against his mark.
A light fell over the pair at the contact both hearts beating wildly in their chests their breath coming fast as they pressed closer allowing whatever magic that was happening to happen.
They saw each other’s pain.
They saw the brief moments of happiness.
They saw the emptiness they had always felt.
They saw the utter relief at finding each other.
They saw a future.
They saw hope.
They saw love.