HEAVEN IS HERE

CHAPTER SEVEN

Annalise leaves tonight.

She's flying to Romania, and goes to the girls' living quarters before starting to pack her bag.

As Annalise opens and closes drawers, folding and picking things to bring with her, her thoughts drift.

Russia to Romania, about an 8 hour flight, 7 hours and 45 minutes to be more precise. For a second, just for a second, Annalise wonders what she'll do for all that time. It's laughable, really. How could she forget, even for a second, that she has no place in this world? That, she can't even take a normal plane ride without being sedated. That's right, all widows sedated upon entry and exit from The Red Room. Reducing her, yet again, into a liability, a nothing. She's being sent out on this tip-top mission, but these protocols in place remind the widows of their standing, their real standing.

You have no place in this world.

Annalise zips up her bag, lays down on her bed, places her bag flat on her stomach, hugging it like a stuffed animal, and closes her eyes.

After a few minutes, when Annalise is finally asleep, two guards walk in, and stick a needle right into Annalise's neck.

They carry Annalise out of the room, place her on a cot in the aircraft, and Annalise takes off into the dark, starry night.

                              ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When Annalise awakens, her bag feels just a bit heavier, laying on her chest.

She unzips it, and finds a compact, black case. She opens the small compact, the size of a CD case, and finds that it has a red button on the inside. A clear, cube like cover encapsulating the button it so it isn't accidentally pressed; almost like that protective clear box that protects the big bad red button in movies. This time though, when she presses that red button, it'll be for victory, not for emergency.

She knows this, thanks to the card attached to the case.

Annalise,

Once you retrieve the asset, you will stay on location and press the red button to alert us of your location and status of the mission.

Annalise takes a deep breath, and hops off of the cot as the plane doors slide open.

                              ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The earpiece in Annalise's ear beeps. It beeps twice, signaling that it's alert and active. Annalise walks onto the tarmac, gets into the taxi, and is dropped off to the area in which they have located the asset.

Annalise, not yet 10.

A girl, silky, smooth, golden curls bouncing as she walks, the breeze caressing them gently through the wind.

She's dressed like an average 9-year old girl, the signature black widow suit was way too conspicuous for this mission.

She wears dark blue bootcut jeans, a lace camisole tank top underneath her silky long sleeved shirt. A pair of slightly beat up converse, stars drawn onto the sides. That part wasn't real though, of course.

It's a facade, little details like that imposed upon their assassins to give the girlish, innocent demeanor.

In reality, every so often the girls get a pair of popular, well known items, such as converse sneakers in this instance, and are tasked with wearing them in, exercising outside, and just being allotted a couple of hours every so often to make personal items seem personal, seem authentic.

Her converse are maroon, and she isn't scared to admit that she really likes them.

Annalise patters down the crowded streets, it seems like some sort of farmers market is going on.

A brief moment of static in her ear, then, a voice.

"Two blocks down, the produce shop. Black cap, red henley tee." One of the widows speaks to Annalise through her earpiece.

"Got it." Annalise replies discreetly.

Annalise dodges through the crowds, increasing her pace ever so slightly until she spots him. She casually walks towards the plums, 'accidentally' bumping into him.

"Îmi pare atât de rău! Nu te-am văzut acolo, scuze!" (I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there, my apologies!) Annalise rushes out, fluid Romanian dialect spoken like it's her mother tongue. A trait she's picked up for the multitude of languages she's fluent in.

The soldier offers a warm smile.

"E în regulă, nu-ți face griji!" (It's alright, don't worry about it!) The soldier replies in a friendly manner.

Annalise nods, looking up at his face.

BINGO.