Kidnapped: Welcome 'home'

Chapter 19: Flying Out

When he told me we were travelling, I stood there dumbfounded. How did I manage to believe that I was finally going to go home? I mentally scold myself whenever I look back on it. Of course he wouldn't have sent me home that easily.

I packed my things the night he told me we were travelling. It's not like I've got a say in the situation, so I might as well do as I was told this time.

At least there's a bright side: you could find a way to get home depending on how you travel now.

Before I knew it, we were striding towards the gate to get onto the plane the next day. King, Steve and Pierre carried our suitcases for us as well as their own. They had a suitcase each, but David and I had two suitcases each – and they were all of the largest suitcase sizes available. I was going to pack one suitcase only but, turns out, David had other plans (again).

I didn't pay attention to where we were going: I stared outside, watching the planes and guessing what airline they belonged to and where they might have come from as we made our way to the waiting lounge.

To reach the waiting lounge, we had to walk through some double doors with a large sign that read 'VIP' in gold letters. I had to pry my eyes off the aeroplanes outside so that I didn't embarrass myself by accidentally walking into the door or something of that sort.

"Woah." I whispered to myself. I must have been a little louder than expected because David overheard me as he turned a little, smiling. I glared back.

The doors opened to a large space with high ceilings that you almost couldn't see them. A twinkling would catch the corner of you eye as the marble counter belonging to a bar that sold drinks and refreshments of all sorts shone in the natural light; expensive restaurants competed for customers as they stood in a neat line putting on the most impressive introductions to persuade you to enter; instead of rows and rows of worn out plastic chairs, there were couches and comfortable armchairs surrounding pristine glass tables overlooking the view of the planes outside. The only thing it had in common with the regular waiting lounge was a glass wall that overlooked all the planes that were either taking off or landing, but even then, this glass wall wasn't even visible because of how spotless it was and the view seemed more attractive and somehow enhanced.

We made our way to a set of chairs and a couch: I sat on an armchair and resumed watching the planes outside; David sat on the couch and pulled out his laptop, completing whatever work he had; Pierre and Steve sat up straight on armchairs, as if they were both ready to jump up and execute any command given any moment now, while King stood behind the couch David was sat on, like a look out.

None of us kept track of time and were brought back from our individual worlds when a lady with a very high-pitched voice came over to us.

"Mr David Brooks?" she asked.

"Yes?" David slowly replied, prying his eyes off his screen to face her.

"Your flight awaits you." she informed, an air of professionalism surrounding her "Right this way, Sir."

David quickly packed his laptop and followed her and the rest of us did the same too. We were all led out of the VIP lounge, across a few hallways, down a flight of stairs and into the outdoors. There, a private jet stood proudly, waiting for his passengers to arrive for it to showcase what it had to offer.

We made our way up the stairs beside the jet and stepped in. It sure was a sight. Two cream leather chairs were facing the front with an aisle in between and behind them were two sets of the same chairs facing each other with a table between them. Behind those, were another pair of cream-coloured chairs facing the back of the jet which had a small kitchen that led to a bedroom.