✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ Splinter Cell [Fast and Furious 07]✔

epilogue

Seven years ago in Bali

Lying comfortably with a drink on one of the many deck chairs on the beach, Charlie watched a small group near the water. Their first semester vacation. A well-deserved vacation, mind you. Maybe the first semester was just over and this was not the last vacation, where it got serious in the last semester, but a vacation she had earned.

Bali was just beautiful. The beach, the sea, there was nothing to complain about. Not too hot at the moment. Everything was beautiful.

"Hi," a man who had been standing at the bar had come over to Charlie and now sat down on the couch next to her, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Already served," Charlie stared at the water and lifted her drink and put it back on the floor, "Thanks anyway."

"Maybe something else?", persistent and maybe, the guy might be nice, but for Charlie's taste, somehow too pushy, "Brunch?"

"Neither, many," not wanting to seem extremely rude and spoil her good mood, Charlie swallowed her actual answer, "I'm not here to meet anyone. Sorry."

Visibly disappointed, the man stood up, looked down at Charlie, and finally rejoined his buddies at the bar. Okay, that was quicker than expected. She had thought the guy would be a little more persistent. Her luck. So she could lounge on her couch again, undisturbed and quite comfortable. Things could only get better from now on.

•

Charlie chewed on his straw as he watched a group make their way to the water, chatting loudly. This could be quite fun. Or rather, quite fun to watch.

A competition among themselves always had the potential, to outsiders, to be amusing... or sad.

Two guys. A blond guy, the typical surfer type, stood next to a black-haired guy, knee-deep in the water, and a few people gathered around them. Okay, this might actually be fun, at least it seemed like it.

Not wanting to miss this spectacle, Charlie took her beach towel, wrapped it around her body and walked over to the growing group with the drink.

"I bet you can't make it," a blond said to the black-haired man, "not even five minutes."

"Any idiot can surf," replied the black-haired man, who seemed pretty sure of himself, "then it shouldn't be too hard."

"Then hurry up. The sea is already coming in. The next wave will be a big one," Charlie pointed to the sea in a sober voice, drink in hand, "a hundred to go down. In less than two minutes."

With a raised eyebrow and the straw in his mouth, Charlie looked at the black-haired man with an expectant expression. This could only go south. The guy had no idea how to surf.

Nevertheless, both men got on their boards and paddled out to sea. The wave came and seconds later washed them both overboard. Bingo. Like I said. Is there anything else to say about this? Basically nothing. So Charlie didn't need to know anything more. With that, the two guys had proven everything she already knew. Too big a mouth, nothing behind it.

Without a word, Charlie left the group and went to the bar to return his glass to the bartender. Too bad, really.

•

The next morning, Charlie got up before sunrise, put on a bikini and shoes, and headed to the beach with a hoodie in his arms. The peace and quiet of the morning. That was why she had gotten up so early, now she sat on a deck chair, pulled her legs up to her body and stared at the sea. The silence of the morning. No children running around or screaming, and no men who thought they had to put on a show.