Being an assassin I have standards; never get cocky, always be polite, and be two steps ahead of your target. That's why I was now on the 0400hr flight from Maui to Somalia. Ghost may be an assassin but he's not exactly high class when it comes to having standards. The plane taxi'd down the tarmac and paused on the runway as the engines roared to life.
"Folks this is yer' Captain speakin'," the Texan pilot drawled over the intercom.
"We ask that yah' fasten yer' seat-belts and enjoy the ride. Thanks fer' choosing Air Africa." The intercom clicked off and the plane began to rocket down the runway, it's fuselage trembling with the G forces pressing on it. I relaxed back in my seat, being comfortable with aircraft was just part of the job. The aircraft nosed up and lifted off the ground. Another 5 minutes later the plane leveled out and soared towards my destination.
Out of my pocket I pulled the micro-chip Thomas had given me and inserted into my phone. A small light blinked on screen and brought up a desktop style interface. I tapped the small file labeled FISHNER and waited. The man's file open displaying various information and Ghost's mission statement. 'Find and kill Gregory Fishner, deadline in two weeks. Location Mogadishu, Somalia'. Below the text showed a picture of a white man with a scar across his forehead.
"Ugly Bastard," I whispered under my breath. As I clicked through the information, flight attendants made their rounds. Eventually they reached me at the left front side of the plane.
"Would you like anything to eat or drink sir?" a blonde attendant asked. I pocketed my phone and gave her a quaint smile.
"Yes miss, just an ice water." She nodded and retrieved a pitcher, filling a glass with ice water. She handed me the glass and turned, heading back to the rear of the plane. I took a few gulps of the drink before turning my attention back to my phone. A text had appeared on screen.
<<F: THOMAS T: REAPER>> [ STATUS UPDATE? ]
I growled at the text, Thomas was not one to be pushy, meaning that his higher-ups were nervous about the mission. Lazily I replied, taking another sip of my ice water.
<< F: REAPER T: THOMAS >> [ Ghost=Maui still....Gear?]
NATO had promised a nice little arsenal to me for insuring Ghost completed the mission. Whether he actually did really wouldn't matter. I would keep my gear and the money either way. Finally one last text appeared, I smiled.
<<F: THOMAS T: REAPER>> [ UNDER FEET ]
At least Thomas was good at his job.
The plane landed smoothly, ending what most people would call a perfect flight. Exiting the plane I felt the caress of the warm afternoon sun and humidity. I walked down the steps and waited by the planes cargo bay. Somalia was no JFK International Airport but it got the job done. One of the men unloading the plane found a black duffel bag and tried to lift it. To my amusement he failed and dropped face first into the ground. I reached out and grabbed the bag, shouldering it with ease. It was only a short walk to where rows of taxi's and donkey carts waited. One car stood out from all of them, an jet black american made Crown Victoria, my ride.
Inside the vehicle the air conditioning was going full blast keeping everyone mildly cool. I sat next to a man with chocolate brown hair and olive colored eyes, wearing a business suit.
"You must be Reaper." The man said holding out a hand, which I shook as the car started down the streets.
"And you sir, are?" The man turned his attention forward momentarily before looking back to me.
"Let's just say that the CIA has shared interests with NATO on this matter. We are taking you to a hotel near the American Embassy, this will be your Base of Operations. From now till you leave Mogadishu." I nodded as the CIA spook continued his little ramble about the politicking involved in Ghost's operation. The car slowed and finally came to a halt. I glanced out the window to see the hotel, not pretty but it would get the job done.