CIA : Its not what you think

Chapter Twenty

||TW: Long descriptions of death ||

-SECTION SONG-

"Alibi"- Jordan Mackampa

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April's POV

The plush seats in the Black Hawk gave me some much-needed calm.

It felt like the cool splash of water being hit on the face of a marathon runner that gives a quick refresh amidst the long tiring run. This created a bond between the seat and me which made me want to be stuck to it permanently. However, there were other things that prevented me from wanting that to happen.

The rotors of the helicopter that came to life after the engines were turned on, sounded incredible but it made me wonder whether I've found a new fear of flying in helicopters. It helped my anxiety be on the rise against the weak attempts I did to tone it down. My breathing had become careful and labored so I couldn't use it to keep myself sane. It was as if I was afraid that I might breathe in a way that would make me end up getting arrested by these detectives that took the rest of the space in the confined vehicle. Instead, I had both my thumbs pressed against the two indexes to provide the pressure that is said to give you some peace, according to my online solo research.

Up to now, I felt an annoying pain in the fingertips only.

"Lock pins in."

"Check"

"Friction on"

"Check"

The pilot seats were taken by Alan and the cop called Presley and the two of them were running take off inspections. Their crisp way of talking was quite intimidating in a formal way.

The interior of the helicopter was a bit different from what I expected from the exterior appearance.

It had a claustrophobic feeling inside that was cleverly disguised to the outside. Two rows with a pair of seats in each was what took the rear space and although the seats were comfortable, leg room seemed nonexistent. The windows had a wide view which seemed perfect for aerial surveillance and it became the only thing I was looking forward to experience in this ride. However, the most distinctive feature was how just from one glance, anyone would guess the name of the helicopter to have the term Black. Every single component, even the tiniest bolt in the door, which is normally silver, obeyed that color theme. The darkness that was created inside due to this seemed like a symbol for the daunting side of all police activities but also, I was once again feeling very out of place from my bright dress. It felt rare to regret outfit choices like this, but today was a big exception.

"Seatbelts check?"

Alan's bossy voice rang out from the front.

"Everyone good?" Captain inquired from the seat in front of me.

"Did you fasten up well?"

I broke my gaze out of the window at Mr. Spencer's whisper.

"Oh, um..." I quickly checked the seatbelt across the waist. "Yeah, it's tight"

"We're good, Cap" He confirmed loudly.

"Engage throttle. Prepare to take off" Presley announced.

With a hum, the sounds from the rotor and engine took a steady increase. The blades started to move slowly and within seconds, all I could see from the limited view in my window, was a black blur above us. The dull vibration caused by the engines working could be felt only underneath our feet but the other pulses I felt were surely from the way my heart was pounding hard.