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Episode 087 |
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“There
are only three sins – causing pain, causing fear, and causing anguish. The
rest is window dressing.” Roger Caras Lisa watched with great interest as Til handed Sarah
the clip with an orange strip of tape.
She studied Sarah’s movements as she discharged her current clip and
slipped it into her pocket before slapping in the new one. She glanced down at Isaiah on the far end
of the transport plane as he held his sniper rifle, a clip with the same tape
on it in his gun. She nudged Jason, startling him awake. “Hey,” she said, never looking away from
Isaiah as Jason checked to see if he had been drooling. “What’s the deal with Isaiah’s gun? Why does his clip have a piece of tape on
it?” Jason stared for a second. “He, Sarah, and Til are carrying anti-magic
rounds.” “I though we all had those,” she said. “Yeah, well, technically what we have are anti-magic
spell rounds,” Jason explained over the hum of the plane. “All the bullets we carry are made
specifically to be used against magical entities in a general sense. But what they’re armed with is made for use
against actual magic users. It’s hard
to shoot a ghost with a regular bullet.
Our rounds make it easier. But
it’s something entirely different to shoot a mage.” “Do we have special rounds for every type of creature?”
Lisa asked. “Not every creature per say, but every major type,”
Jason said. “We don’t have one for
ghosts and one for poltergeists and one for specters. We just have a generic round for ethereal
creatures.” “Wow,” Lisa marveled. Alex sat at the communication console at the front of
the plane, just behind the cockpit. He
stared at the small monitor with a set of headphones on. “We’re entering Turkish airspace now. Our estimated arrival at On the screen, Assif thought quickly. “We need to apprehend this man if
possible,” he said. “We need to know
where that bomb came from and how it was made. Above else, however, it must not be
detonated.” “Once we land, we’re going to station Isaiah first,” Alex
explained. “Given Erkilet’s layout,
should it be necessary, he should be able to find a position that will allow
him to put an end to things.” Assif was somber for a moment. “Let us hope,” he said, punctuating his words
with a sigh, “that it doesn’t come to that.” Khizer sat down at the airport bar, laying his satchel
in the seat next to him. He looked up
at the television screens that broadcasted news in multiple languages. The bartender came to him and placed a
coaster down in front of him.
“<Water,>” Khizer said in Farsi. “<Sparkling or flat?>” the barman asked. “<Flat,>” Khizer said. He brushed his hair back and stared at
nothing as the bar tender brought him a bottle of water and a glass, opening
the bottle before walking away. Khizer
took the bottle and took a healthy drink from it, still thinking. “Hey,” came a female voice. Khizer looked up at as a young blonde woman in a gray
suit sat down two seats from him. “Can
I get a rum and coke?” she asked to the barman. She sighed with relief and stared at the
bar. After a second, she looked to her
left and smiled at Khizer. “Yes?” “You seem stressed,” he said harmlessly. “I thought I was going to miss my flight,” the woman
confided with a bit of a laugh. “Turns
out, I forgot what time zone this is.
I’ve got four hours.” She
looked at Khizer’s bag between them and slid over one chair. “What about you? How long have you got?” “Three hours,” he said.
“You’re from the “Aren’t you?” She asked as the bartender put the glass
down in front of her. “Thanks,” she
said before taking a sip. “My name’s
Irene.” “Irene has made contact,” Eliot reported from the back
of the bar. Sitting at a table, doing
a newspaper crossword puzzle, he took darting glances into the mirrored wall,
monitoring the two. “Understood,” came Alex’s voice into Eliot’s ear. On the roof of the adjacent terminal, Isaiah sat on his
stomach, Lisa next to him. Looking
through his scope, he held Khizer in his crosshairs. “Isaiah,” came Alex, “have you got him?” “Dead to rights,” the sniper said, compensating for
Khizer’s every move. “I’m in textiles,” Irene explained, playing absently
with her hair behind her ear. “I’m
heading to He smiled. “I’m
a…counselor,” he decided. “I help
people to find their way.” “Psychologist?” she asked with a coy smile, “Or maybe
something more esoteric?” He smiled. “It’s
the beard, isn’t it?” he laughed, rubbing the thin chinstrap beard. “It does fit the stereotype,” she said with a coy
shrug, taking another sip. In the airport security station, Alex and Sarah sat
with several administrators, all watching with intent looks at the security
monitors. On the screen, Khizer moved
his bag, opening up the space between him and Irene. “I’m actually Iraqi,” he explained as Irene listened
intently. “I’m on my way back to see
some family.” “Hopefully not due to bad circumstances,” Irene said
sensitively, taking a sip of her drink. He shook his head.
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
He looked up at the mirror behind the bar. Across the main way of the airport, he saw
the woman in the black dress and blue head scarf. She glared at him. Irene noticed Khizer’s intense stare at the mirror and
glanced back, seeing no one in his range of sight. She looked to Khizer. “Something wrong?” Khizer stared at the mirror as the woman became standing
behind his right shoulder. “She’s here
to stop you,” the woman said in a firm tone.
“Her cohorts are trying to find the box.” Khizer coughed and looked to Irene. He smiled uncomfortably. “Could you excuse me for a second? I need to wash my hands.” “Sure thing,” Irene said with a smile. At the rear of the bar, Eliot tugged on his jacket as
if getting comfortable. “Target is
moving,” he reported in the barest of a whisper. “Repeat, target is moving.” “Emma!” Alex yelled. She rose up as the bundle of luggage came pulling up to
her, Til, and Jason. “Yeah?” she said, her hand by her earpiece. “Khizer is moving,” Alex said in a hurried tone. “Sarah is on her way to back you up. Send Til and Jason to stall him until you
find his bag.” “Got it.” Khizer carried his bag over his shoulder, walking just
short of a run towards the bathroom.
But as he neared the metal door, he kept on, passing it. He slipped into a security door. “Why didn’t the alarm go off?” asked one of the airport
personnel behind Alex, watching the security monitors. “He’s got a device that destabilizes alarm systems,”
Alex lied. Khizer rushed down the narrow walls within the
airport. Sprinting at full speed, he
whipped past doors to offices and locker rooms, heading towards the stairs at
the far end of the hall. Like
a shadow, Sarah stepped out, her gun drawn.
“Stop right there,” she threatened, the laser sight beneath the barrel
creating a red dot on his forehead. |
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