Artificial Intelligence

Artificial Intelligence ::Chapter o3::

Chapter 3

It was phenomenal how quickly eight days could pass when your primary activities were exercising profusely, eating raw vegetables and sleeping for the remaining three hours. The rare spare moments I had had been spent memorising Jason’s file. By day four, I knew everything there was to know about him, probably more than his closest friend, even if he had any. It seemed as if he was acquainted with many people, male and female alike, although the proximity of their relationships seemed tainted.

I was now awaiting the privet jet which would take me to my destination; Sweet Home Alabama. Ha. No, actually it was just plain, old Chicago. I had never been to Chicago before, so that was something to look forward to. Possibly the only thing I was looking forward to. The good thing about this mission was that I had no luggage to bring, even though I would be living with the Masons just shy of two years. My luggage would be brought over there beforehand, and my room would already be equipped with all my gadgets and weaponry and such and such. I had a stylist – yes, a stylist – who bought an entire new wardrobe for me, to suit the image I would be hold when out in the public or in the eyes of the media. I had yet to see what this image would be though. No matter, whether it was emo-rocker or preppy-schoolgirl, or more likely slutty-girlfriend, I could pull it off. It was all just a matter of mind control, really.

As the plane landed smoothly on the tarmac, I stood up, readjusting the large handbag on my shoulder. Although it did contain your average makeup, compact and tissues, mine were slightly varied in their ability, in that my powder could also be explosive powder is opened from the other side, and the lipstick may also be a terror of sorts and the maybe the tissues were laced with a liquid that killed the person instantly when whiffed, but really, wouldn’t you expect that from a spy? Standard procedure, really. Ha, that was your conversation opener right there.

The door of the plane opened elegantly, and in an instant, a set of stairs had been placed before them. I walked out of the small military airport onto the airstrip. Jenny, my assistant, the person who made sure my missions went smoothly walked briskly alongside me. I always had her wrapped tightly around my finger, and in the rare chance that something would go wrong, Jennifer would be targeted. So basically, Jenny was an independent, confident woman and there was little a time when she could not handle a situation. This time was no different.

She briefed me quickly over my mission to which I nodded quickly to, almost tiresomely. It wasn’t like I had the whole thing memorised already, to the hospital Jason was born in, to the exact location of the toothbrushes in the bathroom. Standard procedure, I continuously reminded myself.

Wishing farewell to Jenny Mae Alexandria, descendent of the ancient Maori tribe in Tunisia (and adopted by American parents), I climbed aboard the small Airbus A320, without sparing a backwards glance. Jenny could now have the next two years off; the extended holiday that she had never gotten. Sine all my dealings were connected so closely with the presidential candidate, my safety was now in their hands. Not to say if anything did happen, I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself. And Jason; duty calls.

Seating myself in, I saw Graham, the thirty five year old air host – spy extraordinaire asked for my order. “Graham, after all these years I am still going to ask for the usual”, I laughed at his words. Graham had been my right hand man ever since I had gone into the business and he knew me almost as well as I did. I trusted him, funny enough, since I never really did trust people these days. Who did, anyway? If you wanted a job done right, wouldn’t you do t yourself?

“Right, of course Kiera; Gran’s Mac and Cheese it is. Extra onions, peppers and onion, have I got it?” Graham chuckled, mock writing into his notebook, which he had for years, and it still only had one order in it; the first time we met he had asked me what I wanted to eat for the journey to Mexico. It had been my first mission away, and I was missing my grandmother, so naturally, the first thing that came to mind was her epic Mac and Cheese. He had had to take the whole recipe down to give to Master Chef Louise in the small kitchen. Let’s just say Master Chef Louise was now well mastered in the art of Gran’s Mac and Cheese. To perfection, might I add. I had almost convinced her to include it in her Master Chef Handbook when she retired in three year’s time too. I did wonder however, how long it would take me to train the new chef, when the time did come around.

Graham slid into his own sit once he had brought the order in to Louise. Although before he had quite reached her, Louise had already called out to me, asking if it was indeed the usual.

The Airbus took off promptly at 10 am, for the seven hour flight. For security reasons, there was no such thing as “stopping for fuel”. I wondered what the public’s response would be if they knew what we used those very words as a codename for. I lifted my legs up once we were in the air, and stuck in the bud to my iPod, “humming” along to the tunes. Out of my many, many skills, it was funny how I had yet to attain the skill of singing. Sure there were machines and tablets you could use and such, but I’d rather use my natural voice. I still did wonder how Graham managed to leave for the cabin before the first verse was even over. This time was no different. In fact, it was worse.

Horrified, I took out a bud, and shouted over at him. “Come on Graham! I didn’t get two lines sung and there you are, running away already! How is that supposed to boost my self esteem!?”

Graham chortled at this, much to my amazement. “Yeah, you’re precious self esteem, Keira! Wouldn’t want to hurt that would we?! Get singing lessons or something for God’s sake!”

In response to that, I belted out the next set of lyrics, and as the song was rock, it was laden with unnecessary, prolonged, screaming. I was pretty sure I was making everyone groan, and maybe even breaking a few glasses when I got to the high bits. I kept my eyes purposely glued shut so I wouldn’t have to look at their ghastly expressions, thus keeping my self esteem intact.

Suddenly, my face was knocked to the side from impact with a soft surface (i.e. a pillow). Snapping my head to the direction it came from, I saw Graham holding his hands up in a plead for innocence. “Louise had me do it!” he shouted, pointing to where Louise was peeking cautiously through the curtain. I could swear Graham and Louise acted less than half their ages at times.

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©Munni101