The Upper Hand

Char watched her guy as he sauntered away from her.  He kept his gaze on the departure ramp as he walked, peering through the crowd, looking for her.  He would be expecting her looking like she did just hours ago in Sammy's office; long straight hair, light, dusty brown in colour.  They never would have imagined she'd have enough time to cut it off, and dye it the near black that it was now.  Along with the shades, she was practically a different person than she was before.

Char also thanked her lucky stars that she secured a seat in the front of the plane; otherwise she might have been being escorted out of the airport with a gun in her back at this moment. 

Char sunk back a little but still kept herself in plain sight; she didn't want to look suspicious.  She made to look like she was also waiting for someone, keeping her gaze on the departures gate in-between glances at her guy. 

Char considered leaving the airport and finding herself a safe hide-away for the time being.  She scrapped that idea after some brief consideration; if she left, they were sure to find her somehow.  If she stayed, and was careful, she might be able to follow this jerk and keep the upper hand on her side.  That was going to prove tough, however, once the passengers started to dwindle until finally, the flow of people came to a stop.

Her guy kept watch for a few minutes after everyone was gone, hoping for a straggler.  Char picked up an abandoned magazine and made herself at home, settling down into a chair as though waiting for the next flight to get in.  She noticed her guy check his watch several times, an impressive glint reaching her shades from the Rolex.  Eventually, he took out a cell and dialed.  Char couldn't make out what was said but she couldn't help feeling a ripple of delight course through her at the sight of his worried baby blue eyes. 

She could see him raising his arm in frustration with the animated conversation.  He shoved his free hand forcefully into his pocket and made a shrugging gesture.  Char almost had to stifle a laugh.

It was funny; they were just about the only two people left after the crowd had got their bags and moved on.  There were only two other people besides them; an elderly man making his way to the bathroom and a younger woman - thirties-ish - sitting a few seats away from her.  Still, her guy paid no attention to her.  Char was commending herself on her quick-thinking strategy more and more as each minute passed.

Nearly forty minutes had gone by with Char browsing through her magazine and her guy pacing, agitated.  He checked his watch one more time before finally turning and walking out of the airport.  Char felt a chill run up her spine; it was time for action.

She felt cool and in control.  She could feel that confidence returning, the one she got everytime she had gotten ready to do a job, back before she had decided to stick to being a go-between.  Nothing could shake her now.

She was a rock. 

The End

31 comments about this story Feed