Just Another Job (19 page)

“You're quitting? You're such a fucking
idiot,” said Frank.

“Holy shit, is everyone going to attack me
about that today?”

“Why not? It's a stupid ass move. What are
you thinking?”

“I can't fight. I can't die out in a war.
Why do you give a shit?” This was supposed to be the right thing to
do, thought Chris. Why is everyone attacking me for it?

“You think we're just going over there to
fight and die? Yes, I give a shit. We came in here together. This a
fucking amazing job. You can't just give up on it.”

“I can't give up on my family and this is
not an amazing job for me. I was supposed to be writing things. You
were supposed to be creating programs. Now we're running around to
save the world like Captain America clones.”

“That's awesome. This shit is a once in a
lifetime. Do you know how many people are jealous of what we get to
do? We're hanging out with Supers and fighting bad guys. I know
sometime in your life you wanted to be a superhero, just like Gerry
did and maybe still does. He has a fucking superhero for a dad. You
can't beat that.”

“He has a sidekick for a dad that can be
shot and killed and he’ll never see again. We don't have powers and
I'm not ready to not see Gerry or Louise or Sadie anymore because I
went on a stupid fucking trip around the world acting like I was
something that I'm not.”

“Okay,” said Frank. He put his hands on his
hips and then folded them across his chest.

Chris never sat down since he first came in
the room and now took the opportunity. His body was thankful. The
two heated encounters took more energy than he thought they
could.

“If you think this is right —“

“I do,” said Chris, and then moved to turn
on his computer. “I have to write it up and then call Sadie
so...”

“Yeah. I'm out of here.” Frank walked out,
but didn't slam the door like his predecessor.

The computer whirled to life, Chris opened a
Word document, and then stared at it. He was drained. He thought of
taking a nap, but knew he wouldn't finish everything in time if he
did. As he put his hands to the keyboard the lounge door opened
again.

“What!?” said Chris.

“Hey Chris,” said Klaus. “Sorry to bother
you.”

“Oh no. I'm sorry I shouted. I didn't know
it was you.”

“Have you seen Johnykin? I need to talk to
her.”

“She left a few minutes ago. To
workout.”

“Thanks. I'll see you later.”

Chris relaxed. His eyes were back at the
computer screen. He hovered the mouse over the internet browser
wanting to distract himself from writing, but he didn't click it.
Another minute passed looking at the blank page. Finally, he
wrote.

It didn't take nearly as long as he thought
it would. The phone call to Sadie was shorter than he imagined too.
He could tell she was crying a little, but the news didn't have as
much an impact today as she explained. He told her about writing
the letter but that was all. They said 'I love you' three or four
times and Chris promised to call as soon as he got there. After
that was done, Chris checked the time on the computer. He had
another hour before they would leave. He moved over to the couch,
lied down, and fell asleep.

Chapter
Fifteen

“Wake up jerk. We're leaving,” said Johnykin, as she
kicked the couch repeatedly.

“I'm...I...” said Chris.

Johnykin swatted him in the head. “Get
up!”

“I'm up. Geez!” Chris sat himself up as
quickly as possible in case she didn't believe him and swatted him
again. “What time is it?”

“Time to leave, like I already said.
Everything you’ll need’s packed in the car. They're waiting on
us.”

Johnykin gave Chris another second to stand
and then zipped over to the door. Chris hurried after. The SUV's
engine rumbled as always at the curb. Klaus had the front seat with
his arm hanging out the window and sunglasses on. He gave Chris a
nod. Johnykin opened the passenger door and waited for Chris to get
in. He would be squeezed in the middle of her and Frank. Chris
stopped himself from groaning at the obvious blocking.

No one talked on the ride over. Chris almost
blurted out the most obvious question of which airport would they
take, but held it in. He would find out soon enough and when they
took the exit for the Oakland airport it was pretty obvious.

“We used to always fly out of SFO when I was
a kid,” said Chris, to nobody in particular and received no answer
in turn.

Except the driver, who couldn't help
himself, “This isn't going to be anything like that.”

He drove them past all the gates with the
commercial airlines and around to a chain-link gate that was pushed
open by a security guard. The driver put his hand up out the window
in acknowledgment and passed right through without a second look.
They cruised over to a sleek white jet dressed in grey
embellishments that smirked expensive.

No red carpet led up to the steps, only a
customs' agent double checking their passports, which Chris found
conveniently tucked into the side pocket of his pre-packed luggage.
The last one into the jet, Chris took a quick look back out to make
sure what they were doing was okay or even legal. It was
ridiculously easy and fast and as he thought about how he would
tell Sadie about the experience, he saw what looked like pilots
talking to their driver. Chris watched the men in impeccable blue
suits wrap up their conversation and then, with such quickness he
wasn’t sure he saw it, salute the driver that jumped in the SUV and
screeched away.

Chris pulled himself inside the jet to avoid
talking to the pilots who were briskly coming up to the steps. The
jet was small, but the elegance of the outside continued inside
with four plump, grey, leather seats facing each other. Klaus and
Johnykin sat in the seats with their backs to the cockpit. A
hallway of sorts separated them so they could each look out a
window. Frank sat facing across from Klaus, but again there was
plenty of space between them that even if they both stretched their
legs out in front they wouldn't come close to touching. Chris took
the remaining chair and looked up at Johnykin. She had her eyes
fixed on the armrest that acted like a small cabinet for any
electronic device hookup you would need.

The pilots ducked into the jet, smiled, gave
a brief hello, and crouched into their own seats in the cockpit.
There was no door or screen separating them from the passengers,
but they still came over the intercom system to announce
instructions. “Good afternoon and welcome to your flight to the
beautiful Mediterranean, the home of the Parthenon and Plato;
Greece. Our time in the air will be around twelve hours so I
recommend getting plenty of rest as we chase the past.”

'Greece?' thought Chris. He wanted to ask,
but as soon as the pilot's brief speech ended Klaus pushed his head
back and closed his eyes, Johnykin slipped on headphones, and Frank
opened up a laptop. It was for the best. They wouldn't have
answered, anyways.

They were in the air almost as fast as they
had boarded the plane; another benefit of private aircrafts. The
turbines hummed smoothly, Chris was ignored, and even with his
previous nap Chris was out after watching the sky pass by for less
than thirty minutes.

Chris remembered waking up once to awkwardly
use the bathroom that was a door just behind his own seat and then
stumbling back. It was pitch black outside the windows and everyone
was out so he did the same when he sat down again.

The next stretch of sleep was marred by
nightmares. Falling off rooftops, bullets zooming overhead, death.
All his worries brought into a visual fright with no ending except
a punch in the arm.

Frank woke him up. It was still dark. “Eat
something. We'll be landing soon.”

“Already? I slept that long?”

“Eat,” said Frank again.

“What are you serving? Chicken or fish?”
asked Chris.

Frank just pointed to Chris's bag. He’d
forgotten about the mysterious pre-packed bag with supposedly food
and who knows what else waiting inside. Chris unzipped it. On top
was a laptop identical to the one Frank still had out in front of
him. Also clothes, his Super suit, and to the side a plastic bag
full of pretzels, granola bars, an apple, two bottled waters, and a
turkey and cheese sandwich.

After the mystery was solved, Chris looked
up to see what the other half was up to. Johnykin and Klaus quietly
finished their nutritious meals with full ignore mode on. Then the
pilot spoke again, “We're starting the descent. Please stay seated
and fasten those safety belts.”

Chris gobbled down his sandwich and jumped
on the pretzels as the plane began to lean to the left and nose
down.

They left Athens International Airport as
quickly as they did SFO. Another customs agent with a pen hardly
made them pause on their way to a new, but identical black SUV.
Their driver didn't say a thing after a quick, “Welcome to Greece,”
and sped them out onto the connecting highway.

Chris wasn't sure what to expect looking out
the window, little cottage houses, marble pillars, elegant water
fountains. These weren’t real expectations he realized, just clips
from movies of an imaginary ancient place. The highway resembled
many he drove on back in California. Industrial buildings
sporadically popped up, but mostly it was agriculture or land
waiting to be developed into something more.

Chris could also tell from the passing
scenery that their general direction was north. A border patrol
posed only the slightest slow down before more commercial buildings
sprouted up on the sides. Eventually they hit the first distinctive
town, Oinofyta, and were just as quickly passing it. Another
similar town came up, but with nothing new to add. The same highway
continued on and on. The only new revelation was a lake. Chris
imagined the beaches and relaxing; the way he should be seeing
Greece for the first time.

The somewhat varied scenery didn't last and
soon more agricultural fields streaked past the windows. Chris told
himself to stay awake and take in the new experience, but the
monotony won out and he was still exhausted. Compounded with the
silence of his fellow passengers, Chris dozed off.

Chris didn’t need a punch in the arm to wake
up this time. Saltwater air cleansed his sinuses along with a
violent sneeze. Johnykin whispered, “Bless you,” while continuing
to gaze out on to Alexandroupolis.

Off the main freeway, the low speed limit
gave them an easy view of the streets. Mopeds puttered in every
direction or were parked up on sidewalks at small shops. Beyond the
Greek mixed with small amounts of English peppering the buildings
and signs, to Chris it felt like a slightly more glamorous
Monterey.

Soon the driver brought them along to a
street looking out over a harbor. Small personal boats crowded the
water space, but before they could get in a good look the SUV
stopped.

Chris tried to peer around Johnykin to see
their destination. All he could make out were glass doors on a
simple concrete building that could belong anywhere.

Klaus stepped out first and the rest of them
followed eagerly to stretch their legs even for the short distance
to the hotel lobby. Chris looked up into the afternoon sun to
barely make out the rest of the structure. A few balconies wrapped
around the concrete on the upper levels and a sign read ‘Hotel
Erika.’ Nothing fit the exotic forms in his imagination. The driver
hurried along in front. He spoke to the receptionist in Greek to
speed up the process and then directed them to their rooms.

Four keys for two rooms, the driver handed a
pair to Klaus and Johnykin and the other pair to Chris and Frank.
Klaus and Frank led the way into the neighboring rooms and Johnykin
and Chris followed inside. The room was modernly furnished; a flat
screen TV, earthy tones, brushed metal fixtures, and thankfully two
beds. Frank tossed his bag on the bed closest to the door, then
flipped on the TV and surfed for sports.

Chris had enough of the waiting game. “What
are we doing here? I mean, no one has said anything and last I
checked this is not Syria.”

“Are you serious?” said Frank. “Do something
for yourself. Why are you still expecting someone to just come up
to you and tell you everything? I don’t give a shit if you’re
quitting or not, but you need to do your job still. You want
someone to take care of you like a baby. It’s fucking
ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to be treated like a baby. I
just want some kind of communication. Like an adult.”

“Then be an adult and open the damn laptop
in your bag. If you weren’t sleeping the whole flight and ignoring
everyone during the drive you would know that’s where the mission
log is. Shit. Just cause you’re asking questions doesn’t mean
you’re actively doing something. You can find this crap out on your
own.”

“Oh…”

Frank turned away and watched a replay of an
old soccer game. Chris pulled the laptop out violently and slammed
it as best he could on to the cushioned bed. He didn’t know who he
was angry at, but more than ever he felt out of place.

As soon as the laptop booted up a mission
log appeared on screen with instructions outlining everything that
had happened so far and what was ahead. The trip to Greece was a
diversion. The long car ride to Alexandropoulis, along with the
moderately priced hotel, was Erik’s idea to show some type of cost
savings. In Chris's mind, it was completely contradictory to the
private jet they took over.

Skipping ahead, Chris saw the meeting point
in Syria; Aleppo. More information would be sent or relayed
directly from another team member upon arrival. After having no
clue where exactly Aleppo was, Chris decided to read the log
completely. They had one more long, car ride ahead. A seventeen
hour trip to Gazientep, Turkey began at 0600 tomorrow.