by Sara Schoen
Chapter 5
“Maverick!” My voice echoed through the empty hanger as I dropped my bag at my feet. The building was filled with utility vehicles, planes of all sizes, but always smaller than the average jet for travel, cars and motorcycles for the few agents who took time off to visit the outside world, and two helicopters, which I had never seen used except to extract agents from deadly areas as fast as possible. Though the room was packed with vehicles, I didn’t see any of the operators. They usually spent the day discussing where they were going or previous mission stories after lunch. Lunch had been over for a few hours now, and the ones who hadn’t left already would be here the rest of the day. I think they enjoyed talking to whoever would listen, especially since they all shared a similar interest in stories.
Most of the specialty vehicle operators had once been field agents prior to turning to support for others. They typically became support after an injury or after they stepped down from their team thinking they were too old for the job anymore. Older agents called us ‘young blood’ and said they wanted to give us room to work in the field. They would step down and find use somewhere else, but very few ever left CIRA. They stuck around until they were taken out in the line of duty. But while most stepped down, some remained to do field work and work with the younger agents. Honestly, I wish more didn’t step down. I’d prefer experience, over age when it came to a mission. They had a lot to teach us and help us with, and most of them could continue in the field for years. I didn’t like that we were picking youth over experience, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. It was the natural order of how CIRA worked.
I didn’t have to like it; I just had to live with it. I’d most likely become one of the agents who never left the field. I had a feeling more agents were turning to that, at least that would be true with the team I worked with. I didn’t see Night Stripe or Renegade ever stepping down. They’d be the ones taken out in the line of duty. Fewer agents were stepping down every year because we had fewer recruits, and that meant they had to stay active and train those who joined CIRA. That’s also why Sharp Shooter was reluctant to send agents to Washington. If we had another disaster like Sandtown, I’m not sure how the agency would recover.
We had enough agents, but with every loss of life everyone dealt with it differently. Some agents, if close to who had died, would take weeks to recover while others would become even more dedicate to saving lives. In that time, missions piled up, and less experienced teams could be sent out or agents took unnecessary risks. It wasn’t ideal, but we couldn’t sit around and ignore cries for help when it was our job. We took what seemed to be the most prevalent job and worked around the best we could. Nothing was easy, that’s just how it had to be.
But it should be easy to find Maverick; he should be here waiting since he had to transport agents later. Raider saw me on my way down and said if I wanted to catch Maverick, now was the time to do it. Maverick was going to Germany with him, Seeker, Fire Fox, and a few other agents, and for once Raider seemed to be eager to go. Usually, he hated going overseas because he thought our resources were better used here, but his short-sightedness failed to see that some problems could leak over to us if we didn’t take care of them overseas. He thought it through today, or at least it seemed that way when he told me about Maverick. Now if only I could find him. Where was he?
“Maverick!” My voice echoed off the metal doors to the hanger and bounced around the building for a moment. Once again I heard nothing, so I called a little louder. “Maverick, seriously where are you?”
Seconds later a moan came from behind me. “What do you want?”
When I turned I noticed Maverick on the floor with a coat under his head and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be resting, though I didn’t know why he’d choose the floor. “You don’t have to be so rude,” I said as I walked over to where he was lying. I looked down at him and noted that he seemed comfortable despite his position. “What are you doing on the floor anyway?”
His eyes remained closed and his face stoic for a few moments before he finally opened them to meet my gaze. He stared blankly at me, though his voice carried an annoyed undertone to it. “I was sleeping until you woke me up. So excuse me if I’m not a ray of sunshine after you woke me up before I’m supposed to do a twelve-hour flight.”
I ignored his harsh tone, knowing it was better to carry on than get insulted. No one is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the second they wake up, and it’s even worse when someone else wakes you up. “How do you sleep like that?"
Maverick shrugged in response to my question. “I went to a military school before the Air Force,” he explained as he slowly pushed himself off the ground. “You learn to sleep anywhere and everywhere you can, when you can.” Once he was to his feet, he took a moment to stretch. I heard his back crack and he quickly cracked his neck before turning his attention back to me. “So what do you want, Spit Fire? It’s not every day you show up here.”
“I need a ride.” I jumped right to the point. If he could give me a ride we were good to go, if someone else had to, I’d rather not waste time talking to Maverick.
His features changed from exhaustion to intrigue. His eyebrows lifted and a spark of excitement twinkled in his eyes. Suddenly, it didn’t seem to affect him that I’d woken him up. He seemed to forget all about it when a flight came up. “Where to?”
I smiled at his childlike excitement, letting myself soften slightly. I rarely let someone break through the hard exterior I had built up, but at times it was a nice change of pace. I wanted to keep people out so I wouldn’t get hurt as much when they didn’t come back, and they wouldn’t be in pain in case I didn’t, but I really cared for the people here. I hoped they knew that despite my attitude. I smiled at him before quickly reminded myself I had to focus so I could save the agents, including him. “I would prefer to tell you once we were on the plane.”
His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked me over. His eyes lingered at the bag I had behind me on the floor. He knew this wasn’t a normal mission, normally he would have been given information beforehand and there would be more than one agent unless instructed specifically by Sharp Shooter. “Why is that? Where are you going?”
I didn’t want to tip him off in case Sharp Shooter came to ask him questions, but I knew I’d have to explain enough to convince him to help me. “I’m going to Washington State for a mission, but I prefer to keep it as quiet as possible.”
“Why is that?” He questioned again. “Are you hiding something, Spit Fire? What’s going on in Washington?”
“I’m heading there to meet with the director of the CIA. I need it kept quiet because Night Stripe was passed over for it.” The lie came so naturally that I almost felt bad for saying it; almost. I didn’t know how often Night Stripe had been called on after Russia or what she did, but everyone knew she preferred to be in the field instead of here. It would be enough to convince him to keep his mouth shut.
He nodded in understanding, but after a few moments shook his head at me. “I can’t take you, Spit Fire. I’m supposed to be ready in six hours to take a team to Germany. A flight to Washington is just a little out of that time window. I couldn’t make it there and back in time. You know I would if I could.”
I sighed. I preferred to work with Maverick. He didn’t ask many questions once his curiosity was satisfied and was easy to talk to during long flights, but I knew his assignment came first. “I know you would, Maverick. I appreciate it, I really do.” I took a breath, trying to figure out how to ask him if he knew anyone who had time to take me to Washington. I didn’t come up with a smooth transition so I got to the point once again. “Do you know another way there?”
“Yeah, don’t worry, Spit Fire, I got someone who could take you without a problem.” The mischievous gleam in his eyes and crooked smile, which would make others giddy, had a different effect on me. It meant trouble, which he found enjoyable.
“
Who?” My voice wavered slightly, showing my concern and making him laugh.
“You’ll like him. He doesn’t say a whole lot, but he doesn’t have an assignment until tomorrow so he’s got plenty of time for your flight.” He smiled playfully at me before turning to look over his shoulder toward the back of the hanger where a cluster of rooms and lockers were for the drivers and pilots when they were staying overnight or had quick stops here before taking another team out. “Hey, KC!”
I watched the empty room for a moment, tempted to tell him no one else was here. I had looked all over when I first came in here and found no one, but before I could speak up someone poked their head out from around the corner. Maverick motioned for him to come toward us and KC followed the order almost instantly. As he drew closer I took notice he was a bit younger than Maverick, more around Night Stripe’s age. He seemed to be in his early twenties, attractive and well-built with short, dark brown hair that hung slightly into his green eyes. He lifted his hand as a quick hello to me; I was actually surprised he didn’t pretend to tip a hat. He seemed like one of those guys who would be a little too gentlemanly for these times. He smiled at me before turned to Maverick.
I thought he was going to speak, but instead Maverick did. “Spit Fire here needs a ride to Washington State. I figured you’d be just the person for the job. It shouldn’t take you too long, and you’ll have something to do while you wait for the team heading to Colorado.”
KC nodded and gestured for me to follow him with a friendly smile. He walked off without so much as a word and picked up my bag to take to the plane. He didn’t even look back to make sure I was following him.
“He really doesn’t say much,” I said after noting his stoic expression. To most it would seem as if he was uncaring or uninterested in the flight or in assisting me when they compared him to Maverick. Maverick could become as excitable as a puppy, and KC’s quiet demeanor would surely push some away from him, but I loved it. I had less to explain and even less idle conversation to muddle through.
“I figured you’d appreciate that. You usually fall asleep on my flights and even when you don’t I still can’t get you to talk more than a few sentences. I’m usually carrying our conversations, which basically means I’m talking to myself.” He smiled at me and let out a low laugh. I elbowed him lightly in the ribs for the quip, and he turned back to being as serious as he could handle. “Though I should warn you that you won’t be sleeping on his flight. If you could sleep through that, then you deserve a medal.”
“Why is that?”
Maverick’s smile widened as a plane roared to life nearby. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough. Have fun. I heard he did some fun stuff while in the Air Force. Just think of the guys who do air shows and that should give you a good idea of what’s coming.” His tone was playful, yet at the same time mischievous.
“I’ve never seen an air show. What does that mean?”
All he did was laugh and give me a curt wave before walking off. I heard him mutter under his breath as he left, “You’ll never make fun of my flying again.” I fought the urge to tell him his flying sucked and rolled my eyes at him instead. I half expected him to turn around to glare at me. He always knew when I had a comeback waiting to escape my lips, but he didn’t and I walked off to ride with KC to Washington.
At least with Maverick leaving soon, and KC not interested in talking with anyone, Sharp Shooter would have to trust I was where I said I was. At least I was covered until he could get in contact with the director. Hopefully that would give me enough time to finish this once and for all.
Chapter 6
My hands were clutching the seat beneath me as KC continued to show off in the small jet plane he borrowed for the trip to Washington. It had two seats, and its speed made it a number one choice for quick drop offs and pick-ups, according to him. While we were half way through the trip, which I had slept through thankfully, he explained that this was his favorite jet. Since he didn’t talk much, I encouraged the conversation, but now I regretted it. Apparently in the Air Force this plane and a similar one had been his two favorites for a multitude of reasons.
“Why was this one of your favorites?” I asked him.
“Do you want to see something cool, Spit Fire?”
Foolishly, in an attempt to be friendly because he was putting in effort to talk to me, I agreed, which he took that as free reign to fly upside down and spin wildly through the air. As the plane lurched to the side to spin once again, I felt like I was going to be sick. I just wasn’t sure if it would happen before or after the plane malfunctioned and shot me out of my seat so I could plummet to my untimely death. This was worse than rollercoasters that made you feel like you were free falling. At least those eventually came to an end. KC didn’t seem as if he’d stop anytime soon. I could hear his laughter ringing in my ears as he pushed the plane up into another loop. I caught sight of the ground beneath us as we reached the top of his loop and instantly regretted letting Maverick pick my pilot. I thought Maverick was bad, but I think he picked KC to prove a point to me.
There’s always a worse pilot out there.
“Isn’t this great?” KC called back as he leveled the plane again. It was obvious that he was having a blast. He was still able to smile and laugh while my smile had disappeared along with the rest of my patience.
“It was exciting the first time, but after the sixth I’m kind of over it!” I couldn’t handle this for the rest of the flight. Frankly, I was so disorientated I don’t think I could have stood up if he landed the plane right now. “I would appreciate it if we stopped. I’m not sure my stomach can handle anymore flips.”
KC laughed at me, but didn’t pull the plane into another spin after leveling us out again. My stomach couldn’t have been more thankful for it.
In no time we landed safely in Washington without another moment of showmanship except for right at the end when KC decided to nose dive and spin before landing. I would have let it go if I didn’t think he did it just to piss me off. Once I was finally free from his death trap I had to restrain myself from falling to the ground and kissing the asphalt. I was just so relieved to be on solid ground again. I never wanted to take a flight with KC again and I swore to never make fun of Maverick’s flying again. Hell, I’d request him from now on if it would get me out of having to ride with KC. At least Maverick’s version of showing off was purposefully hitting turbulence in an attempt at throwing me out of my seat.
KC came up behind me with my bags as I sat on the ground with my head in my hands, waiting for my head to stop spinning. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? I thought you were having fun.” He placed my bag next to me on the airstrip.
I was taken aback by seeing three bags instead of one, and attempted to reach for it, but missed. I heard KC laugh before pushing the bag I was reaching for closer to me. “I had fun the first time you did it, but the subsequent times just made my head throb.” I grabbed the bag successfully this time, and even though my vision hadn’t fully restored I attempted to stand. I made it to my feet, but toppled over from dizziness at the last moment.
KC grabbed me expertly and held me as I tried to steady myself. “So, what are you doing in Washington? I know I should have asked earlier, but I was having too much fun.” Even with double vision I could see the smirk on his features and the light in his eyes. I knew he’d been distracted with his air tricks, but I had also hoped he wouldn’t ask. If I was confident that I could have landed the blow, I would’ve hit him, but I had a feeling it would go right past his head.
“I’m going on a mission.” I hoped the curt answer would discourage him from pushing any further. Maverick said KC didn’t talk much, but he had talked a lot more than I anticipated through the flight. At first I thought him doing tricks in his plane was an icebreaker or a way to get out of the conversation. Now I saw he really did them for shits and giggles while anyone else in his plane suffered from a sudden case of motion sickness and claustrophobia.
�
��Thanks, I figured that out all by myself.” He scoffed before laughing lightly as I swayed again. He helped center me. “I meant more along the lines of what the mission is. What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” was all I managed to say as he continued to hold me steady. Though I didn’t ask for it, I appreciated his help. If he wasn’t holding me I would have fallen face first onto the pavement. I did wish he would let go so I wouldn’t have to answer his questions though. He wanted information and I was weary for him to report back to Sharp Shooter whatever I said even though I knew Night Stripe would keep Sharp Shooter distracted for as long as possible. Besides, it was too late for him to order KC to bring me back to CIRA.
“Don’t want to talk about it? Or is it too secret and the information is so sensitive that if you told me then you’d have to kill me?” He smiled as he playfully elbowed me in the ribs, causing me to stumble slightly, but I managed to hold my ground.
“No, not at all. I’m just working with the director of the CIA on a mission.” As the words left my mouth I noticed his expression change. His curiosity was replaced with a mischievous smirk. I was about to ask what had him looking like a teenage boy who’d gotten caught sneaking out of a girls’ tent at summer camp, but he beat me to it.
“No, you’re not. The director of the CIA is on leave, you’re here for personal reasons. What brings you here? Is this where you’re from? Were you recruited here? You could have told me it was just a fun trip. There’s nothing wrong with that. Though I have a feeling it’s not much of a vacation, and that you’re here for a darker reason.”
“How did you—”
“Know?” He winked as he finished my sentence. “Well, besides your reluctance to disclose any information about the mission, I was the one who took Director Walsh to his destination a few days ago as a last minute thing. I’ve been in and out of CIRA ever since. Maverick has had to write my flight logs for Sharp Shooter because I’m traveling so much. Not that I’m complaining. I love flying and I hate writing flight logs. I’d do even more flying if I could, and thankfully your trip got me out of writing more flight logs.”
