I’d been tailing my mark for close to an hour. Careful to keep my distance, I was waiting for him to trip up. Take a side turn down an alley, head into an elevator, anything to pull him out of the public’s view. My hand slid into my jacket pocket, fingering the handle of the stiletto switchblade in my pocket. Sighing slightly, I looked around. There were no police, I could swiftly move in, take out the target, and leave before anyone called for help. But, my employer wanted it done as discretely as possible. And so the chase continued.
Did this guy have anything better to do than just walk around? Surely, he had some commitments to meet, something more to do than wandering aimlessly down crowded streets. As if on cue, the man pulled out his cellular phone, and stood still. After a moment’s time, he put the phone back in his pocket and headed down a side path. “About time, Mr. Clark,” I muttered to myself. My hand returned to my jacket, gripping the stiletto hilt tightly. I quickened my pace, following his path into the alley.
I turned the corner, and heard the crack of a gunshot, followed immediately by my leg giving way. I crumpled to the ground, as two men in grey security outfits walked up to me with guns drawn. Mr. Clark was getting into a car at the end of the alley. One of the guards stepped on the wound. Pain shot up my leg. He pulled out a stun gun, and pressed it to my side. My entire body stiffened, and my vision went black.
“Time to buckle back in,” Archer said, pulling me back to reality, “We’re about to enter atmo.” I adjusted my harness, making sure that it was snug. In addition, I doublechecked the coolant levels on my suit, just in case there was a leak. Everything seemed to check out.
Archer pulled up slightly, and I felt a shaking of the craft as we entered Earth’s atmosphere. I sank heavily into the seat, inertia grabbing hold of me. My mind drifted to the task at hand. Archer and I were to meet with Andrew, who had been monitoring the Greene residence for the past half day or so. Once we had met up, we would enter the residence and extract the Greenes, if necessary. Afterwards, the three of us would remain on standby until Q located Sam. At that point, we would retrieve her and return to the ARC facility in New York City for further instructions.
The shaking subsided, and I could feel the ship shifting. I began to feel less downward pressure, and a new pressure pushing me backwards. Our first stop was most likely the ARC station in Brazil. With the satellite in geostationary orbit above the Atlantic Ocean, A straight shot towards Earth would generally land us close to South America. Archer and I would then jump to a short-range aircraft that would get us relatively close to where the Greene’s lived, where we’d get a vehicle for the remainder of the trip. Q had everything prearranged during our flight, so there should be minimal downtime between each leg of the journey.
“What do ya think, Syrus?” Archer asked, flipping a few switches. Light poured into the cockpit as the heat shields went down. “Should we be worried about the Greenes?”
“Most likely not,” I responded. “It’s Andrew. He can handle things if need be.”
“Fair enough.” Archer adjusted the ship’s heading. It was likely to be an uneventful trip to Brazil. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind as best I could.