Airport Job


The phone chirped at my hip.  I ignored it.  I was currently in Chicago, sitting at the airport, watching my next target.  He was a wolf that was really good at embezzling money from humans and then skipping town when it started to get too hot.  It took me months to figure out where he was currently, and it looks like I found him just in time.  He was getting ready to skip again.  I watched him go up to the ticket counter and check in with one of the budget airlines.  I cursed.  I wasn’t going to be allowed through security if I didn’t have a ticket.

I pulled out my phone and ignored the three missed calls from my assistant and sometimes bodyguard, Emmett.  He was fully human, absolutely massive, and he was also tons of fun to be around when I got lonely.  He called again just as I got online to buy a ticket somewhere.  I sent it to voicemail.

I purchased the first ticket that popped up on my search engine, not paying attention to where it was going.  I didn’t intend on boarding a plane, anyway.  I downloaded the boarding pass and joined the security line.  I pulled my hoodie up over my head to hide the scar that went down one side of my face, blinding one eye.  It made staying incognito kind of hard.  Most werewolves knew of me, and my scar was a dead giveaway that I was here, hunting.  I relied heavily on makeup and hoodies to get me close enough to my targets for me to do the job I was hired to do.

I heard a noise on my blind side, so I turned my head to look.  An older woman was looking at the boarding pass on my phone.

“That’s the A terminal, honey,” she said.  “You’re at B terminal.”

“Excuse me?” I said, confused.  She pointed at my phone. 

“You’re going to Aruba.  Those flights are in A terminal.  You need to get into the other security line.”

I looked down at my phone.  “Whoops, wrong boarding pass,” I murmured, pretending to swipe with my finger.  I hated nosy people.  They made my job so much harder.  For her part she looked pleased with herself for doing a perceived good deed.  I turned my back on her and ignored her, hoping she wouldn’t continue the conversation.

“So where are you going?” she asked, tapping my shoulder.  I inwardly groaned but outwardly smiled as I turned around. 

“Delaware.  My father just passed away.  I’m going to his funeral.”  I had discovered a long time ago that death and grief make people uncomfortable, and they quit talking after that.  Fortunately, it worked, and she lapsed into silence.  I looked around, trying to unobtrusively find my target.

He was still there, about ten people ahead of me.  I fiddled with my phone, pretending to be watching videos while the line inched forward slowly.  I would have preferred to do this outside of security because taking care of my target inside the terminal was going to be a lot harder, but it could be done.  I pulled up the floorplan for B terminal and I formulated a plan.

When it was my turn, I showed my boarding pass to a very uninterested security officer, put my shoes and phone on the belt and obediently stood in the machine while it swirled around my body showing everyone that I didn’t have any weapons on my person.   Released by TSA, I grabbed my shoes and put them on while speed walking towards my target.

It was a matter of timing and location.  I had my perfect opportunity when the crowd thinned out at the same time we were passing the family restrooms.  I’ve discovered that being quick will give me the advantage, especially if the target is not expecting an ambush.  I speed walked up next to the man, grabbed his arm and turned quickly to one of the private bathrooms, dragging him with me.  By the time he had his wits back, I had already locked the door behind us.

When I turned, he saw my scar and recognition of his situation dawned on him.  He began to shift.  I stopped it with a quick kick to his throat.  While he gasped for breath I broke his knee, dropping him down.  From there it was a quick move to break his neck.   As he died, his body shifted into a massive black wolf, lifeless on the bathroom floor. 

I could hear an increase of people on the other side of the door, meaning a flight had just deplaned.  I decided to wait a little bit; I didn’t want the wolf found too quickly.  While I waited, I used the toilet and cleaned up a little.  As I washed my hands I looked into the mirror, smoothing my hair. 

My glossy black hair framed my face and my one dark brown eye looked out at me.  The other eye had faded to a pale blue, having lost its color as I lost my sight.  A jagged scar went from my hairline, over my eye and down to the side of my straight nose.  I had big lips, and straight teeth, but my one of my front teeth was chipped due to a blow I had taken.

I had to duck a little bit to see myself in the mirror.  I was very tall for a woman, over six feet, and fairly heavy, though not curvy.  All of my weight were muscles that I had earned the hard way, working out constantly in the gym and combat training.  I had worked very hard to turn myself into a weapon, not wanting to have to rely on others or machinery to work. 

I sighed, suddenly bored, and put an ear to the door.  It sounded like the crowd had died off so I pulled my hoodie back up.  Before leaving, I turned and took a picture of the wolf, dead on the bathroom floor, and sent it to my assistant, Emmett.  I ventured out, heading towards baggage claim.  I was out of here.

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