Miriam walked out onto the sidewalk. She felt the first few raindrops hit her head and sat down in the Cadillac’s passenger seat before she could become drenched. Irvine was skimming through documents in a manilla folder, tucking them away upon his daughter’s return.

            “All set?” the general asked. Miriam nodded, and they were off. For the first time in three months, Miriam felt isolated. Alone. Looking out at the pedestrians littering the city sidewalks, to her they all felt so distant. “Is what the report said true? You killed the prisoner you were transporting?”

            It took a second for her to respond. “Yes. I didn’t have a choice.”

            “That’s a shame,” Irvine sighed.

            “Why’s that?” Miriam shot him a puzzled look. It seemed like forever ago, but she recalled the day she met Lanz. Her squad was tasked with escorting him to the military base at Fort McKinley’s, though the flight route they took was kept secret from all but the pilot. Little information was given about Lanz himself besides his name and rank, but the orders were clear: bring him in alive.

            The Cadillac stopped, waiting at a red light. Irvine checked his mirrors, glanced around the car and out the windows. “What do you know about Lanz Ocel?”

            He’s a Fidelphian soldier. Master Sergeant. He has black hair and green eyes. He’s twenty-six years old. He’s 5.2 inches tall. There are scars all over his body from every weapon imaginable. He’s as handsome as they come with a butt that won’t quit. His favorite movie is ‘The Man Called Revolver’. He doesn’t snore, but sometimes he mumbles in his sleep. He can hold his breath underwater for eight minutes. I’m the first, only, woman he’s ever slept with. He’s an expert on guns and survival tactics. His aim is unparalleled, and he has a habit of spinning his revolver like he’s in an action film. He’s competitive and too cocky for his own good. He’s also gullible. He killed his father when he was twelve years old. His favorite food is cheeseburgers, but they’re made out of rabbit or squirrel where he’s from. He’s kind of a pervert, but I love him and trust him with my life. “Not much.”

            “I wouldn’t think so.” The light turned green, and the car slowly pulled forward through the intersection. “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this car. Do you understand?” Miriam nodded. “I mean it. Everything I’m about to divulge is above even the president’s clearance level. I’m only telling you because you’re my daughter and after what you went through, you have the right to know why were thrown into such perilous circumstances.” Rain pelted the windshield, blurring the city of Debutrois into a grey miasma.

            “About ten years ago, we received intel on a top-secret program Fidelphi was operating that would tip the scales in their favor. In a total disregard of ethics, their leading scientists experimented on the genome of living tinies for the purpose of creating the ideal warrior. Lanz is the result of those experiments.” Miriam stared intently at her father, giving him her full attention. “He’s a living weapon, a mockery to God’s good name. Officially, he’s a Master Sergeant in the Fidelphi army who joined at a young age after graduating from a special training program. In truth, he is a Genetically Engineered Killing Organism, or Gecko as the tinies refer to him.” The people outside ran on the sidewalks, holding newspapers and briefcases over their heads as they dashed to shelter. The thunder could barely be heard beneath the roaring downpour.

            “They nabbed him when he was thirteen and still undergoing puberty. I don’t know what his circumstances were, but he had a unique predisposition for violence and a high tolerance for pain. He underwent extensive surgery in which they rewrote his entire genome, replacing unwanted traits with more desirable qualities. They carved him up like a Feastday turkey to replace each of his organs with superior specimens. They went so far as to alter his facial structure and remove any scarring above the neck, prettying him up in case they decided to use him as some sort of homme fatale. In terms of physicality, Lanz is the paragon of his species. He can run faster, swim harder, carry more, and endure longer than any other among his race; he is the peak of what the tiny body is capable of.” An unsettling pit had formed in Miriam’s stomach, filling her with nauseous unease.

            “And that’s before the extensive training. They subjected his body to every form of punishment: physical, mental, emotional; breaking him down again and again until he could withstand pain of any source. They’d lock him in a room with stone-cold killers and wouldn’t let him out until he was the only one left standing. He has no fear, no remorse, nothing that would get in the way of completing a mission. Hell, I’m not sure if he can feel anything at all.” Miriam’s face had gone pale, fighting the urge to throw up. “His schooling consisted of combat and survival manuals, learning anything and everything that would assist him on the field and give him the edge over his enemies. They trained his reflexes and aim through extensive drills, forging him into a crack shot that never misses his mark. Altogether, he’s the greatest asset in the Fidelphian war effort, and he’s only a prototype.” Irvine reached the edge of the city, the Cadillac weaving its way through the olive-green hillside. The looming pines rustled in the wind, dancing with the unrelenting waters pelting them. The twisting branches of oaks carved out mangled scars in the grey skies above.  

            “None of the other test subjects survived the process, and as far as our intelligence is aware, Lanz is still the only Gecko to successfully reach the field-testing stage. The Fidelphians are desperate to optimize the program with the end goal of mass-producing Gecko soldiers. On top of that, further research is being done to heighten the Geckos’ benchmarks. Imagine if a tiny had the strength or durability of a real human or perhaps beyond even that. I’m sure you see why we needed to get our hands on Lanz.”

            “You were going to dissect him,” Miriam deduced, “to reverse engineer him and apply Fidelphian science to our own bodies.”

            “Precisely. The only edge Fidelphi has on us is their scientific prowess and their astronomical population rates. If they had entire armies of Geckos, each as strong as one of us, they’d be unstoppable. But if we had that capability, if we could make Geckos out of bigs, then that would be the deciding factor to end this war.”

            “So, why did you need him alive?” Miriam asked. “If you were only interested in his body, wouldn’t a corpse, or even a DNA sample, be enough to study?” Irvine pulled into a prestigious, brick paved driveway, two imposing, black barred gates impeding his path. The general punched into a radio receiver mounted on the gate wall and signaled the keeper to let him in.

            “Miriam, I don’t need to remind you how cunning tinies are. They wouldn’t send their greatest scientific achievement out into the world without failsafes in place. There’s a self-destruct sequence encoded into his DNA. The instant a cell dies or is removed from the body, the genes mutilate themselves, erasing all traces of surgical tampering. Upon brain death, his entire body is wiped clean of its genetic patterns, degrading them into junk data. Lanz’s corpse is just as worthless as any other tiny’s.” Irvine glanced at his daughter, noting her horrified expression. “Don’t feel bad, sweetheart. Bagging the abomination alive would have been ideal, but you should be proud. You took out Fidelphi’s greatest soldier singlehandedly. Think of how crippled their military might is now that their Gecko is decaying on some island in the middle of nowhere. That’s worthy of celebration! Maybe even a medal!”

            Miriam didn’t want a medal. She wanted Lanz. She wanted to know he was safe. She wanted to run away with him, to live with him in peace and solitude, just as they had before. “You were going to dissect him,” she muttered, staring down at her lap.

            “You see now why this mission was black ops? If word got out that our military was performing human experimentation, using a tiny’s genetic data of all things, there’d be riots in the streets. I love my country, but it’s best to keep the people blind. Let them worship, let them commune, let them justify this conflict in whatever way helps them sleep at night, but never divulge the inconvenient truths. We are the shepherds protecting the flock, and we will do whatever’s necessary to fulfill our duty. It’s the one thing I agree with the Fidelphians on. I wish it didn’t have to be this way; I had to go so far as give that pilot some inane flight path, make sure the package couldn’t be tracked. Add in that damn storm knocking him off course, and it’s a miracle we found you at all. I’m sorry that put you in such a dangerous situation, but I’m proud you came through it a survivor.” Irvine pulled up to their garage and parked the car, remaining seated to finish their conversation.

            “Lanz, the Gecko project, is this that secret weapon you’ve been working on all this time?” Miriam asked.

            “No. No, that’s too high for even your clearance level. The Gecko was a pet project, a way of balancing the scales in case Project Peace Bringer doesn’t pan out, but that’s looking less necessary by the day.” An insidious smirk carved along Irvine’s cheek, the mark of pride infused with callous hatred. Miriam stepped out of the car and looked up at the foreboding estate, the home she grew up in appearing alien to her eye.

…

            Lanz and Pierre had moved to an abandoned bunker connected to the sewer system, a hideaway used by Fidelphian spies. The room was barren, the only furniture being two tiny sized folding chairs and a card table. There were some canned goods piled in the corner, emergency provisions, and that was it. On the way there, Lanz had caught Pierre up on his three months out of commission.

            “You should have terminated yourself as soon as the enemy captured you!” Pierre snarled, slamming his fist on the table. “You were under strict orders to do so! We put that cyanide tablet in your crown for a reason. Not only do you have firsthand knowledge of our nation’s greatest secrets, but your body and cells hold research more valuable than a quarter of the national budget. The fact you’re standing in front of me is tantamount to treason!”

            “Will you calm down?” Lanz leaned against the wall, eyeing a can of sliced grapes. “I let myself get caught. At the time, I figured it’d be the easiest way of crossing the border. I was going to escape once the plane had touched down. But for obvious reasons, that never happened.”

            “Then you should have bit it on that island since you were so insistent on keeping the girl alive.” Pierre threw his burnt-up cig to the ground and pulled another from his pack. As per usual, he didn’t offer one to Lanz. “Alone with the enemy. There’s no telling what secrets you could have divulged.”

            “Hey, I considered it, but what do you know,” Lanz tugged at his cheek, showing off the missing molar, “the whole tooth popped out in the crash.” Pierre stepped closer, examining the gumline, specifically the scars from where the tooth’s root ripped out from. “Besides, I’m more useful to my country alive than dead.

            “I don’t have the patience to argue with your bullshit,” Pierre dismissed. “We need to prepare for the mission.” He walked back to the table and pulled several hand-drawn maps out of his coat, laying them flat on the table. “While you were enjoying your island getaway, I’ve been scoping out General Silver’s estate. It’s well guarded on the outside, almost as fortified as a real military base, but from what I could observe, the inside is light on patrol to not disturb the family’s day-to-day.”

            “You figure out where the weapon schematics are?” Lanz asked.

            “I haven’t been able to get inside, so no. Logic would dictate in a safe, likely in the general’s office where he could access them easily while working. From what I can tell peering through windows for months on end, his office should be here.” Pierre pointed to a section of the map. It was a simple outline of the premises with some details filled in based on observations. “That works out because there’s a vent leading from that room to the outside.”

            “Let me guess: the vents filled with anti-tiny contraptions.”

            “I would question the giants’ mental capacity even more if there weren’t. There must be a way to disable them from inside the mansion for maintenance.”

            “How about closed-circuit surveillance? Should that be a concern?” Lanz asked.

            “You give these lumbering oafs too much credit. Our own security cameras are only now entering the prototype phase. The Baltzimarans are decades behind in that category.” Pierre leaned back and pointed at Lanz. “Here are your objectives: use the girl to infiltrate the estate, locate the weapon schematics, if they’re in a safe or locked compartment, determine a method of extraction, disable the mechanisms within the vent, and once I’m inside with the equipment, assist me in capturing the schematics. We cannot risk detection on this mission, so don’t go leaving any corpses lying around without good reason, but if we are seen, we’re authorized to utilize deadly force.” Pierre reached into his coat and pulled out a shiny new toy. “Here, have an upgrade.”

            Lanz held the handgun in his hand. It had a thick, silver barrel and black rubber grip. Four vents were carved into the muzzle and a series of notches lined the top and bottom of the barrel. “The Desert Eagle,” Pierre called it. Lanz disassembled the gun in his hands, inspecting every part before reassembling it in record time. “A prototype. I recognize it isn’t a revolver, but it does fire those magnum rounds you’re so fond of, and it packs a helluva punch.”

            Lanz curled his finger over the trigger and started spinning the gun. It was heavier than his Model 27, so he started slow, gradually building up speed until he got the feel for it. Then, he pulled out his revolver and spun it in the other hand, adjusting the speed of each hand to keep both guns twirling at a steady rate. Before long, he was progressing through his entire routine of tricks, flipping and twirling and tossing, etc.

            “Why do you always feel the need to do that?” Pierre pulled another cigarette out from his pocket and lit up. “This mission is of critical importance. The weapon these bigs are devising, the Peace Bringer, is unlike anything this world has seen. In a single blast, it can wipe an entire county off the map and leave the land uninhabitable for generations. While we sit on our asses, obsessed over the fantasy of building an army of Geckos, our enemies are harnessing the apocalypse itself. If we don’t get our hands on those schematics and create our own Peace Bringer, then we’ll have no way of countering Baltzimar, and they’ll win this war with the mere threat of deploying it.”

            Lanz holstered his guns, shoving the Desert Eagle into his waist band, and scratched at his beard. “You got a knife on you?” Pierre rolled his eyes and sighed, tossing him a pocketknife with a centimeter long blade. With a few decisive cuts, Lanz shaved his beard off, leaving stubble in its place.

            “And here, you’ll want these for the mission.” Pierre tossed a couple silencers Lanz’s way. “They’ll suppress your fire power, but that gun’s strong enough for it to not matter. When do you next see the girl?”

            “Tomorrow. 14:00 hours.”

            “Good. We’ll begin the operation at 23:00. You’ll need to be fully prepared and have the vent open by then. Oh, and let’s get you a change of clothes. You smell terrible.”

…

            The next day, Miriam sat alone in the bar restroom, fingers trembling as they fidgeted together. She arrived at the bar precisely at 13:59, having told her parents she wanted to take a drive by herself around town. The minute she spent in there waiting for Lanz felt like an eternity.

            “Yo!” A familiar voice rang out from under the windowsill. Before Miriam could look up to see him, Lanz dropped from the window onto his lover’s lap. “Were you wai-” Before he could finish, Lanz found himself mashed into Miriam’s lips, her hands wrapping tightly around his frame.

            “Lanz! Lanz, I… I know…” she sputtered. It looked like she was about to cry.

            “Woah! Calm down, my canary.” Miriam paused upon hearing Lanz’s words and glanced up at the windowsill. It was bright and sunny, the golden rays radiating brilliantly through the open glass, blinding Miriam as they flashed in her view. The faint song of morning doves could be heard behind the ambient rumbling of city life.

            “Sorry,” Miriam rubbed her tired eyes, “I’m just a little emotional seeing you again.” Focus, Miriam thought. Now’s not the time to talk about his past. Taking a closer look at him, she realized he was no longer in his filth ridden tank top and pants, replaced with a dark blue track suit and matching baggy pants. “Nice digs.”

            “I found them in one of our caches. It’s nice wearing something clean for once.” Lanz noted her outfit as well, it being the first time he saw her in casual clothes: a blue, button-up blouse tucked into grey, high-waist slacks.

            “So, did you find a way out for us?”

            “There’s a boat headed up north to Namsta, discreet, captain doesn’t ask questions, but it’ll be a few days before he sets out. I think it’d be best if I stay with you until then.”

            “Fantastic!” Miriam’s eyes lit up. “I can keep you in my room. My parents and the maids don’t go in there unannounced, and there’s plenty of spots to hide in when I’m away.”

            “Sounds good. I'm ready when you are.” Holding Lanz in her hand, Miriam stood up and undid her front button, unzipping her slacks to reveal the white panties enveloping her crotch.

            “I was thinking I'd hide you up front this time.” She tugged open her underwear and slid the tiny man inside, letting the elastic snap back and sealing Lanz's body against hers. His head and torso rested against her pubic bush while his feet followed the hammock below her taint, leaving his waist, thighs, and pelvis to greet the moistening lips. “Just don't get me too excited while I'm driving.” 

            With her man in tow, Miriam awkwardly stepped out of the restroom, waltzed through the bar, and went outside to her car, hoping no one paid any mind to the slight bulge in her pants. She hopped into the driver’s seat of a velvet-red Roadster and sped off. The purring of the engine traveled through the car, sending a tidal wave of vibrations into Lanz through the seat. Yesterday’s inadvertent massage couldn’t compare to today’s as Lanz’s trembling body rode Miriam’s vaj. The woman took one hand off the steering wheel as she raced through town and pressed her lover into her crotch, rubbing him into her wet pussy. Lanz tried to linger on the memory of wearing unstained clothing, but the familiar scent of Miriam’s cum drove such nostalgic recollections back into the void. It was going to be a long drive home.

…

            “If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's enjoying himself,” Pierre muttered to himself. The special agent was laying low beneath an upturned Styrofoam cup situated by the bar's brick wall, peering through a miniscule hole in the side as a velvet-red roadster peeled off. A thin string led from the cup to the bathroom window facing the backlot. After confirming that the coast was clear, Pierre abandoned the cup and returned to the sewers. “Sick bastard.”

…

            Lanz sat upright, his back to Miriam’s pillow with the giant, muscular woman snoozing beside him. It was 22:50, ten minutes before he was to rendezvous with Pierre, and Lanz was feeling restless. He had never once felt anxious before a mission, but this time was different. An unease gnawed at his heart, but he couldn’t place the emotion. It wasn’t fear nor doubt, nor was it regret, but some unknown feeling eating away at him.

            “Is something the matter?” Miriam asked, gazing at Lanz through half-shut eyes.

            “I’m just excited is all.” He wouldn’t turn to look at her. “Maybe a little nervous.”

            “Don’t worry, it’s all going to work out.” She rubbed his back with her finger, the soothing caress of her massive fingertip only fueling his unease further. “Soon, we’ll be far away in some distant country. We can start fresh and live a normal life together away from the war. Just you and me.” She continued rubbing until she drifted off, her eyelids sealing shut. With the stated hour quickly approaching, Lanz leapt off the bed, adamant in his refusal to turn back. He took a deep breath, and his eyes went hollow, banishing his unease.

            Upon landing on the floor, Lanz shed his tracksuit, revealing the black, insulated stealth suit fastened tightly against his musculature. The Desert Eagle, equipped with a silencer, remained holstered on his right hip, the Model 27 holstered on the opposite side. Nine .0357 magnum rounds rested in the Eagle; added with the six in the revolver made for a total of fifteen shots, more than enough for the mission at hand. A grappling hook looped around his chest.

            Lanz crawled under the closed door to Miriam’s bedroom, his tiny body just thin enough to squeeze through the gap. The upper floor hallway was empty, it leading to each of the residents’ bedrooms plus the guest rooms. To keep the noise down, no guards patrolled up there at night, making Lanz descent to the first floor a breeze. He rushed down the staircase leading the main foyer and made for the expansive living room towards the mansion’s back wall. At night, two guards patrolled the mansion interior, keeping in regular contact with the three dozen active guards stationed outside. A half-dozen more guards were stationed in the basement den; they spent most their time unwinding, playing cards or reading magazines to pass the time, regularly swapping rotation with the patrolling guards, but they were each ready to mobilize at a moment's notice in case of an alert.

            Lanz reached the living room unspotted and hid behind the leg of an accent table. One guard was currently patrolling in the kitchen on the far side of the mansion; he would be of no concern to Lanz for quite some time, by which point the tiny planned to be in the office. Lanz stood and waited, staring at a door in the living room corner. After two minutes, a guard stepped out from it, standing in front of the door as he scanned the living room. That door led to a short hallway which emptied into General Silver’s office. A guard walked through the hallway and stepped into the office every twenty minutes. That’s what Pierre had gathered studying the hallway window.

            Eventually, the guard stepped away from the door and continued his patrol, following the back wall perpendicular to Lanz’s current location. Lanz silently trudged over to the door and slid under it. With a quick jaunt, Lanz could cross the short hallway in half a minute, passing by the doors to a bathroom and a lounge on one side, and crossing under the large window on the other. A guard stood stationed outside in front of the window at all times, making entry through it impossible, but he kept his back turned towards the interior, allowing Lanz to slip by unnoticed inside. Once he reached the other end of the hallway, Lanz got down on the ground and crawled under the closed door’s gap into the office.

            The space was lavish. Bookshelves lined the walls, reaching up to the ceilings. Each one was filled with dense texts on strategy, warfare, and history. A grand mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, covered in documents, office supplies, and a gallery of framed photos of Miriam and her mother, depicting the two at different milestones throughout the years. Looking left, Lanz spotted the vent grate just below the ceiling, sandwiched between the tops of two bookshelves. With a solid throw, Lanz lodged his grappling hook into the grate and ascended the side of one of the bookshelves.

            At the top, Lanz sidled up to a small control panel mounted on the wall next to the vent. It was a smidge larger than his torso with buttons and knobs the size of his head, and a few sliders that ran the length of his arms. The grate wasn't screwed on, instead Lanz simply pressed a button to unlock the simple mechanism, popping the grate’s bottom corners ajar.

            Peering into the vent, Lanz didn't see any traps or contraptions. The steel corridor went on for a few feet before turning into a corner, nothing visible blocking its path. Lanz pulled out a bullet from his revolver and tossed it into the vent. As soon as it touched the metal surface, bright blue bolts of electricity struck out at it, zapping the metal casing with lethal intensity. Lanz quickly ducked behind the wall as his ammunition ignited, rocketing out of the vent like a freshly popped corn kernel. 

            Electrified floors, Lanz thought. That'll keep us out for sure. He fiddled with the control panel, determining what controlled the office environment and what controlled the electrical current. With a couple button presses and the spin of a dial, Lanz deactivated the trap. With his first objective complete, he repelled down the grappling hook, leaving it still attached to the grate for his partner as he reached the floor.

            Next, he ran to the other side of the desk towards a bookshelf facing the vent. There were a few heavy tomes standing on the bottom shelf, but by expending all his muscles, Lanz managed to pull them aside to reveal the safe built into the wall. It wasn't anything grand, big enough to hold documents and a few small items, and it featured a numbered dial that went up to ninety-nine.

            23:04. Pierre should be here any minute now. Lanz turned towards the vent, hearing light footsteps echo through the chamber far above. Pierre appeared with a load of equipment strapped to his back, pushing open the grate and sliding down the grapple’s rope. He hustled over to Lanz, the equipment jostling on his back.

            “Can you get any louder?” Lanz remarked. “There’s a few guards you’ve yet to wake.”

            “Shut up.” Pierre offloaded two studio light poles and a press camera mounted on a tripod. “Crack the safe already! We don’t have much time.”

            Thanks to you. Lanz walked up to the safe dial and spun it. Right 9. Left 3. Right 98. The safe clicked and the inch thick metal door opened for the tiny. Inside was a blue folder with black text printed on it.

            “How’d you know the combination?” Pierre asked, almost finished setting up.

            “I snuck in here earlier when the family was away to scope things out. When I found the safe, I tried a few guesses.” Lanz dragged the folder out, the paper nearly twice his height. “You wouldn’t believe it. It’s his daughter’s birthday.”

            “You can’t be serious.” Pierre finished angling the camera as Lanz brought the folder to him. “The stupidity of these brutes never ceases to amaze.” The front of the folder read in bold lettering: Project Peace Bringer. An unfamiliar symbol was drawn just below the text: three wedges surrounding a dot, all encased within a circle. Lanz flipped through the pages, stopping to read as Pierre snapped the pictures. What Pierre had said earlier was not hyperbole. Baltzimar was creating a weapon capable of wiping out a four-to-ten mile radius in a single blast, potentially killing millions of tinies and eradicating whole communities. Fidelphi, or any country big or tiny, could never stand up to such a power, not without a weapon of equally destructive force.

            Lanz flipped through the schematics, each page reconfirming how far Baltzimar’s morals had fallen. Once Pierre snapped the final shot, he began disassembling the equipment. Lanz continued reading the documents, a handwritten note scrawled on the final page:

            Miriam, I can only pray you never find yourself under threat of such ungodly power. All my actions are for your sake. No matter the cost, if I can grant you a world free from strife, then I will have won this war.

            “I’m all set,” Pierre said, equipment loaded on his back. “Put it all back and let’s get out of here.” He started walking towards the vent, readjusting the heavy equipment so it wouldn’t fall off his back.

            “Right. Be careful with…” Lanz froze in place. Standing a few feet before him in the office doorway was a towering, pajama-clad woman.

            “Lanz?” Miriam asked. “What are you doing?” In the darkened room, she could see the tiny in full view standing over the top-secret documents, the lid to the safe peeking out beyond the side of the bookshelf. Pierre stopped in his tracks, completely obscured behind the opulent desk. Lanz didn’t hesitate. He drew the Desert Eagle and aimed it straight at Miriam’s heart.

            “Miriam, turn around, go back to bed, and forget about all of this.” His eyes were empty, devoid of any human emotion.

            “What’s the meaning of this? What are you doing in here?” Her eyes quivered, her heart raced. She took a step forward.

            “Stop!” Lanz roared. “Turn around, go back to bed, and forget all about me.” He cocked the hammer, the click echoing throughout the room. “I won’t repeat myself again.” Pierre pressed himself against one of the desk’s drawers. He had the film containing the schematics, and unlike the fool beside him, he hadn’t been seen. His instincts screamed at him to abandon his partner, to escape out the vent as soon as the chance presented itself, to complete the mission by any means necessary, but he knew firsthand that when abandoning a comrade to their fate, a spurned soldier wasn’t above taking teammates down with him. He had to wait and see how things played out.

            “You used me.” Her skin grew pale. “You used me to get to my father.” Her stomach twisted itself in knots. “To get to his work.” She felt her whole body tear asunder.

            “That’s correct.” Lanz’s cold stare never left his target. He spoke softly under his breath, his lips barely moving: “Pierre, she hasn’t seen you. Get out of here. I’ll take care of her.” Satisfied with the go-ahead, his partner heeded his instructions, slowly creeping to the other edge of the desk, ever closer to the rope leading to the vent. “Three months ago,” Lanz called out to her, “I allowed myself to be captured by Baltzimaran forces. I needed to get to General Irvine, to get to these plans. Meeting you was a happy coincidence. Getting stranded on that island was an inopportune setback, at first. But seducing you was all too simple.” The corners of his lips edged upwards, producing small cracks in his otherwise icy demeanor. “Oh, a tragic story here, some playful teasing there, throw in a life-saving experience or two, and you were putty in my hands. All for this moment, so I could sneak in here so effortlessly and take what I will.”

            “But you said we’d be together.” Miriam was on the verge of tears. Every breath hurt. Each pulse threatened to erupt out of her veins. “We’d start a new life away from the war, just like we had, just like we had before.” She choked on her words. They trickled from her throat like razor blades.

            “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” His gun didn’t waver. Neither did those hollow eyes. “I have a duty to my country. It’s as simple as that.”

            “Was it all a lie?” She took a step forward. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Has everything you told me been a total lie!?”

            Bang!

            Lanz fired a warning shot at her feet, leaving a hole in the tile floor just before her big toe. In a heartbeat, his gun was trained on her heart once more.

            “I loved you, Lanz. I really loved you. And you’re just going to throw that away? For what, your country? For this stupid war? I thought we were beyond that!” Miriam’s heart beat so hard it could split in half. Her ears rang like sirens. Her lungs stopped functioning. Her stomach was turned so tight that it went numb. “Was it real? Be honest with me, Lanz. Was any of it real?” Time didn’t move within the office. Everything meandered in heavy malaise. “Was the love we shared as real for you as it was for me?”

            A snicker broke through Lanz’s otherwise stoic face, a hateful smirk accompanied by a hyena laugh, as if Miriam had just told him an inside joke. “My precious Miriam,” he goaded, “I’ve never loved a thing in my goddamned life.”

            In a sudden burst, the hulking woman charged at him, leaving the tiny only a split second to put his enemy out of her misery. Lanz squeezed the trigger aimed right at her heart.

            Bang!

            The bullet flew clean over her shoulder, brushing past the tips of her hair and lodging itself into the wall behind her. In all his years of service, Lanz had never once missed a shot. Frankly, he wasn’t sure how to react. A rush of suppressed emotions blurred his vision. The fear of failure consumed his senses. He stood there like a deer in the headlights as the massive woman stomped ever closer. His thumb trembled against the hammer, unable to pull it back lest his bullet stray from its target. Though he tried, his finger refused to pull the trigger.

            Lanz tossed the Desert Eagle aside and reached for his revolver, but it was too late. Miriam’s hand slammed into him like a brick wall, scooping him up and launching him into the open vault. He crashed into the iron plate lining the back of the safe and watched helplessly as the last remnants of light slipped through the closing door.

            “Miriam! Wait! Don’t-” It was too late. Miriam slammed the safe door shut, the dial spinning until Lanz was locked inside the sealed chamber. She leaned on the shelf above the vault and cried into her arms. A faint tapping could be heard from inside the safe, the sound of Lanz hitting the door with the butt of his gun.

            In all the confusion, Pierre had made it up the rope undetected. Miriam’s hunched over back faced the vent, allowing the special agent to observe the situation from high up undetected. Based on the safe’s dimensions, he thought, I’d estimate that he has two minutes worth of air. Standing on the edge of the vent corridor, Pierre’s hand hovered over his gun. It’d be simple enough to kill Miriam, creating a potential window to rescue Lanz, but he was on a tight schedule. If the patrolling guard stepped into the office and found a dead Miriam, the entire estate, and inevitably the entire city, would be put on high alert, endangering the success of the mission. On top of that, Pierre didn’t know the combination. He didn’t know when Miriam’s birthday was, and he was too busy setting up his camera equipment to have caught Lanz dialing it in. The safe’s steel walls were too thick for the trapped tiny’s voice to come through. Pierre already had what he came for, it was simple as crawling back through the vent, avoiding the outer guard whose patrol he had memorized, and getting the film out of the country. He wasn’t going to throw away months of hard work for Lanz of all people, Gecko or no. This mission was too important to jeopardize over a single soldier. Sorry, pal, but you reap what you sow.

            Still, Lanz was an extremely important asset. Alive. If he somehow survived, and the Baltzimaran’s got their hands on him, the threat of giant Geckos would undo the advantage of the stolen Peace Bringer schematics in the eyes of Pierre’s superiors. If he wasn’t willing or able to save the Gecko, he had to at least confirm his death.

            Two minutes passed. In Pierre’s time contemplating, two minutes had passed. Lanz was out of breathable air. Pierre knew all too well that Lanz could hold his breath for eight minutes. The Gecko would never miss a chance to show off during underwater training. Pierre could never beat him, his record topping out at seven minutes thirty-two seconds. Eight more minutes. You can’t survive in there any longer than that.

            Three minutes passed. It would be close. If Pierre waited there for ten minutes, he risked being spotted by the patrolling guard. Thanks to the time wasted by the couple’s spat, the guard was expected to return the minute Lanz would lose consciousness. Miriam crying in her father’s office would be suspicious enough to put the patrol on edge, and it wouldn’t take long for them to discover the vent’s trap had been shut off. Pierre had to leave the moment he confirmed Lanz’s death.

            Four minutes passed.  Miriam’s crying filled the room. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious, more of a steady whimper, but Pierre could tell they were real tears, the sound of a woman who had lost what she held dearest. If she weren’t from Baltizimar, if she weren’t a big, if she wasn’t the daughter of General Silvers, if she hadn’t fallen in love with Lanz, Pierre might’ve considered feeling sorry for her.

            Five minutes passed. Pierre’s fingers trembled. That woman’s shrill whimpering was scratching at his nerves. He needed a smoke, but even the most brutish big wouldn’t be dumb enough to light up on a stealth mission. He had to make do with the thought of Lanz suffocating in that safe.

            Six minutes passed. Really, what could a big ever see in a tiny? The inverse doubly so. The Gecko was capable of eliminating an entire enemy base singlehandedly and could assassinate his own countrymen without batting an eye, but what impressed, and revolted, Pierre most of all was that he could spend three whole months with something as disgusting as a giant woman and trick it into loving him.

            Seven minutes passed. He was wasting time. He had the film. He had the schematics. Lanz was as good as dead, but no, “as good” wasn’t good enough. What if the woman grew soft and set him free? Or she might not realize how long Lanz could hold his breath and open the safe too early. Or perhaps, by some twisted miracle, Lanz could actually break himself out.

            Eight minutes passed. That was impossible. Pierre had seen the inside of the safe. Inch thick steel all around. It was inconceivable for a tiny, even a Gecko, to break through that. Lanz’s only way out was through that sealed door, and his time alive was thinning fast.

            Nine minutes passed. Lanz’s limit was almost up. So was Pierre’s. A guard would be walking through that door any minute now. The crying daughter would prove an adequate distraction for a moment, but she would certainly put the estate on high alert. It’s fine, Lanz will be dead soon. Pierre clenched his teeth. The woman hadn’t stopped crying. Tears ran down the edge of the shelf like a steady stream. She was still hunched over in the same position, unflinching. The safe remained shut.

            Ten minutes had passed. That was it. By all accounts, Lanz should be nothing more than a corpse left to rot in pitch darkness. Pierre had to leave. A guard would barge in within a few seconds, but the special agent was riddled with doubt. It’s been three months since I’ve last seen him. What if he’s evolved? What if he can still breath? A few seconds more, that’s all it’d take. If I turn away now, I’ll never know for sure.

            Fifteen more seconds passed. Pierre didn’t take his eyes off the weeping lady. They both remained unflinching. I need to know. If that bastard’s still alive, I need to know.

            Thirty seconds passed. The guard should be here by now. Where is he? No. They aren’t always exact. He could have gotten distracted, or there could have been a random rotation or one of the family stopped him. I can’t worry about that now. I have to confirm his death.

            Forty-five seconds passed. This is insane. No one can hold their breath this long. The Gecko could only do it for eight minutes. He’s dead. He has to be. He has to be dead. I have to get out of here.

            A total of eleven minutes had passed since Lanz was locked in the safe, a full minute more than he could endure. Miriam continued to weep. The faint pounding from inside the vault had ceased a long time ago. Lanz Ocel was dead. There was no denying it. Pierre turned away and retreated deeper into the vent, his job here done. So long, you jerk. A top-secret government project doesn’t get a hero’s funeral, but I’ll light a cigarette in your honor when I return home.

            Miriam’s mind was blank. After eleven minutes crying, her tears were all dried up. Her eyes crusted over; her expression winced in exhaustion. It didn’t matter though. No one could see her face anyway. As long as she kept crying, that low, steady whimper, she’d be fine.

            661… 662… 663… Miriam’s mind was blank. 684… 685… 686… Words and images failed to render. 697… 698… 699… She was focused on one thing. 700… 701… 702… She counted the passing seconds. 705… 706… 707… Steady as a metronome. 708… 709… 710… Precision was paramount. 711… 712… 713… If she were one second off, then everything would be over. 714… 715… 716… Too soon risked discovery, and too late risked death. 717… 718… 719…

            Miriam opened her eyes and fell back. Her hand lunged for the dial. Right 9. Left 3. Right 98. The safe door creaked open. Lanz sat in the center of the vault cross-legged, his eyes closed, his arms resting on his knees. As the office’s ambient light touched his face, he took a deep breath. Lanz had always been proud of the fact that he could hold his breath for eight minutes straight, so proud that he could actually hold it for ten minutes, just in case some upstart had the gall to break his record. It was a secret he kept from everyone, having never told a soul until earlier that afternoon.

            Lanz had barely gotten his eyes opened when he felt four lumbrous fingers wrap around him. With a sudden jerk, he was out of the safe and pressed into his lover’s pillowy lips. “We did it,” Miriam muttered. “It worked.” When he was finally free to look around, Lanz checked for signs of his former partner. The grate had been shut and the grappling hook gone. Aside from the secret documents lying beside Miriam, there was no evidence he was ever there.

            “You were really good,” Lanz admitted. “I almost started crying myself.”

            “Thanks. You weren’t bad either.” Miriam scratched her cheek. Her eyes gazed tenderly at the tiny in her hand. “A bit too campy, but convincing enough.”

            “Sorry.” Lanz rubbed the back of his head. “I was getting into playing the villain. It’s pretty fun!”

            “Well, let’s get out of here before the guards start getting anxious.” Miriam tugged at her collar and slipped Lanz down her chest. Her bosom’s warmth exuded all around him, swaddling him in affection.

…

That Day, 15:00, Eight Hours Before the Operation Began,

            “Miriam! What are you in such a hurry for?” her mother called out from the foyer. Miriam had just slammed the front door shut and was running up the stairs to her bedroom.

            “No worries, Mom! Just, uh…” She was trying her best to hide the wet stain on the front of her pants as she raced up the stairs. “Getting a change of clothes, is all.”

            “Ok? I’m baking cookies right now. They should be done soon.” Rosa Silvers tried to catch up to her daughter, but Miriam had already disappeared into the second floor.

            “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back down in a moment.” Miriam reached her room and slammed the door, locking it shut.

            “What’s gotten into her?” Irvine asked, walking out from the hallway that led to his office.

            “Who knows?” Rosa Silvers shrugged. “Maybe she’s found a boy.”

            “What!?” Irvine’s eyes nearly popped from their socket.

            “I’m kidding, dearie.” She kissed her husband’s cheek and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Though she is at that age. If she didn’t cut such an intimidating figure, she’d be swarming with hopeful suitors.”

            “Absolutely not!” Irvine’s fist clenched so hard he almost broke his own fingers. “No lecherous cretins are getting their grimy paws on my baby girl.” Rosa sighed and made for the kitchen.

            Miriam’s bedroom was utilitarian to put it lightly. The twenty-one-year-old hadn’t used it since enlisting at seventeen, and before then she had cleaned out much of the knick-knacks of her adolescence. All that remained, aside from the typical bedroom furniture, were two large bookshelves filled with romance and adventure novels.

            Miriam pulled Lanz out of her pants and sat on her bed, letting Lanz stand in her palm. The tiny was drenched from head to toe in his lover’s juices. “Sorry about that,” Miriam said, “and on your new clothes too. I’ll sneak you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up.”

            “It’s fine for now,” Lanz conceded, wiping ejaculate off his face. He unzipped the track jacket and stepped out from his baggy pants, revealing the stealth suit and weapons strapped to his body. Miriam took it all in with wide eyes. “We have matters to discuss.”

            “Yeah, we do.” Miriam glanced around her room, paranoid of someone listening in. “Are we safe here?”

            “We should be. My handler will remain outside until the appointed hour. I’m glad you got my message.”

            “The line is ‘my chickadee,’ dummy, not canary,” she giggled. “I had a feeling we were being tailed from the moment we got off the boat. So, it was one of your countrymen expecting you? This handler? And what’s this about an appointed hour?”

            “His name’s Pierre Pillon. He’s a Fidelphi Special Agent. I trained under him, and we’ve been assigned as partners for most of my career in the field. He’s a rat, and a worse soldier than me, but he’s dedicated. I was expected to rendezvous with him in this country before the crash, to help him infiltrate this mansion and procure the schematics to a WMD your father is developing. Now that I’ve returned, he expects me to complete our mission. As long as he knows I’m alive, there’s nowhere we can live in peace without giant targets painted on our back.”

            “So, you’re helping him sneak in here to steal the plans for this weapon?” Miriam asked. While they spoke, she tried to brush the cum out of Lanz’s hair with her fingers. “But if you succeed, he’ll expect you to return to Fidelphi.”

            “That’s right, but I won’t let that happen. I’m working on a plan. I need to fake my own death.”

            “Of course. All evidence of the Gecko Project is erased when you die, so your military won’t need to retrieve your body. But what if they suspect you of desertion?”

            “If Pierre completes the mission in my stead, they’ll have no reason to. It’d be far simpler to kill him myself and run. They could never fathom that I’d concoct a convoluted scheme to elope with a giantess.” Lanz took a deep breath and turned his head downward. “So, you know about the Gecko Project.”

            “My father told me everything,” Miriam sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have heard it from you. I feel so bad. Everything you went through. Everything…”

            “Can you still love me?” Lanz interrupted. Fear dripped off his words, a fear Miriam once believed he was too stoic to feel. “Can you stomach the thought, knowing what I am?” Miriam raised Lanz to eye level and waited for him to look her in the eye.

            “Lanz, I will always love you. What you are, what you’ve been forced to do, none of that matters anymore. What matters is what we have been through, the time we spent together. I didn’t fall for the living weapon, just as you didn’t fall for the spoiled heiress. On that island, we let go of our old lives to forge something new, a bond free from the prejudices that our pasts had us shoulder. I don’t care if your genes had been altered, or if you’ve been programmed to kill, or if you’re five inches tall, I love the person beyond all that, the one that loves action movies and gets flustered when I’m naked, the one that loves to show off and is way too easy to mess with. I love the man who’d suck the poison out of a woman who held him captive in her pocket and even stitch up the wound on her back. And I’ll love him for as long as he loves me.” Lanz rested his head against the side of her nose and cried into it, wrapping his arms as far around her cheeks as he could. The cool tears ran down her nose and onto her lips. Miriam draped her free hand over his back and kissed his torso.

            Eventually, Lanz pulled back and wiped the tears off his face. The two smiled at each other. “If you ever need to talk or let something off your chest or anything, I’ll be there to listen to you,” Miriam said. “If you never want to speak about your past ever again, then that’s fine too.”

            “Thank you. Truly.” Lanz couldn’t remember the last time he cried, if he ever had. It felt good. “I’ll cherish you forever.” Miriam stole another kiss from him and lowered him back to her lap.

            “Alright, but for now, we should focus on getting you killed. When is this infiltration supposed to take place?”

            “Tonight. 23:00.”

            “That should be enough time to prepare. The weapon schematics are probably in a safe in my dad’s office. It’s built into the wall behind one the bookshelves.”

            “That’s what we suspected. We’ll need the combination.”

            “Knowing him, it’s probably my birthday.”

            “You can’t be serious.” Lanz deadpanned in her palm.

            “My dad may be the highest-ranking officer in our military, but before that he’s a family man.” Lanz rubbed his furrowed brow, wondering how this conflict had lasted as long as it had. “I’ll get my folks away this evening, if you want to scope the place out.”

            “That’d be great.” Lanz held his chin in his hand, pacing in Miriam’s palm as he formulated a plan of action. “I have some ideas regarding how to fake my death. I’ll run them by you once I have a fuller picture. What will we do about the guards? It would be a problem if they catch us in the middle of the act.”

            “Oh, I’ll just tell them to stay away from the office tonight.”

            “They won’t find that suspicious?” Lanz asked.

            “They’re under direct orders to do anything my mom or I tell them to do, no questions asked. Last one that asked questions, well, it didn’t end well for him.” The tiny broke out in a cold sweat.

            I hope I never have to meet her father. Lanz paced some more, strategies flying through his thoughts. Plans pieced together and were discarded, potentialities slipping by to connect threads to possibilities. “Are you certain you’re willing to do this? You’ll be betraying your country and your father.”

            “There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind,” Miriam replied. “I don’t care about this war anymore, all this pointless bloodshed. Which side wins doesn’t matter, I’m not sure it ever has. All that matters to me is us.” The two stared into each other’s eyes, sharing an understanding that went beyond the inherent gaps between them.

            “Sweetheart, are you okay in there?” Rosa’s voice called out from the other side of the door. “You’ve been in there for a while. The cookies are ready.”

            “Ok, Mom! I’ll be out in a second!” Miriam looked down at her pants, the crotch still stained from the car ride. “Shit, I need to change.” She set Lanz down on her bed and rushed to her dresser. “You stay in here. I’ll bring you a cookie, and we can talk further.” Lanz nodded and watched her run out the door in a fresh pair of pants. There was a great risk in their plans, a possibility that neither would live to see tomorrow, but Lanz was determined. He had the opportunity to live a quiet, fulfilling life with the woman he loved, and he wasn’t going to let that chance slip by.

…

The Following Day,

            Miriam laid face-up on her bed, holding Lanz’s chest to her chin as she made out with him. The two passionately went at it until they heard a knock at the door.

            “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?” Rosa asked. Miriam shoved Lanz under her pillow and grabbed a book off her nightstand, flipping to a random page.

            “Sure thing.” Miriam held the book over her face and read a random paragraph. It was a cheesy romance novel, one about a painter who falls in love a woman who strongly resembles one of his portraits. Rosa opened the door and sat down on the bed beside her daughter.

            “Is everything okay?” she asked. Rosa’s black hair, kept out of her eyes with a hairband, reached down to her waist. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time holed up in here.”

            “I’m taking my time readjusting.” Miriam put the book down, no longer needing to keep up the act. “I’ll be fine, just enjoying laying in a real bed again.”

            “If you say so.” Rosa leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I’m sure your boyfriend would like for you get out more.”

            “What!?” Miriam blushed furiously.

            “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that glimmer in your eyes. No matter how hard you may try, you can’t keep this sort of thing from your mother.” Miriam started hyper-ventilating. Does she know about Lanz? “I don’t know when or where you could’ve met him, but with how happy he makes you, you better do whatever you can not to lose him.” Rosa got up and headed out the door, stopping midway before closing it. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell your father. You know how he gets over this sort of thing.” With her piece said, Rosa left her daughter’s bedroom and returned downstairs. Miriam reached under her pillow and pulled out Lanz.

            “We need to get away from here soon,” Miriam said. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep you hidden here.”

            “Agreed. But, I think it’d be best if I left ahead of you.”

            “Huh?”

            “Miriam, you have a life here, people who care about you. It wouldn’t be right to abandon them.”

            “But Lanz,” her grip around him tightened, “I want to be with you more than anything.”

            “And you will be,” he reassured her, “but you shouldn’t throw all this away.” Lanz tried to pry her fingers off him, but she wouldn’t budge. “There’s a country far to the north, a small island nation called Birhamming. I’d been there once on a mission to meet a foreign emissary. It has gorgeous vistas, and the people are really friendly, and both sizes live among another there. I can stowaway on a ship headed there and wait for you. Don’t run away from this, you’re lucky to have it. Find a reason to move out there and say your goodbyes. I’ll wait however long that takes.”

            “Alright,” she huffed. “I’ll drop you off at the harbor. We can go on one last car ride first.” Miriam loosened her grip and let Lanz sit on her chest between her boobs.

            “Also, there’s a favor I’d like to ask of you.”

            “Name it.”

            “Before I go, when you get a chance, can you take pictures of the Peace Bringer schematics and hand me the film?” he asked. Miriam raised an eyebrow.

            “What for?”

            “I’m going to leak them to the press overseas. Whether Baltzimar or Fidelphi complete such a weapon, no good could come from it. But if the rest of the world found out about the project, they’d have to step in. I’m not certain as to what that would accomplish, but it’s worth a shot if it might mean an end to this war. At the very least, it’d give me a small semblance of atonement.”

            “Understood.” Miriam brushed Lanz’s hair with her finger, tucking it behind his ears. “But, we can wait a little while before you head off, right? Like, until tomorrow. Or next week.”

            “Hey! You’re the one who said I couldn’t stay hidden here much longer,” Lanz objected. Miriam’s pouting drew a toothy grin across his face. “Ok, ok. A little longer.” Miriam grabbed Lanz and brought him back to her lips, embracing him for as long as she could.