Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 74 ⊰❉⊱

The week blurred into a blink that was fast even by immortal standards. 

The day of meeting with Vanguard loomed and instead of the meeting room I expected, I found myself on the rooftop of their skyscraper in Canary Wharf watching a helicopter drop before us.

Quinn was no doubt immersed in the middle of her working day and there was little point alerting her to the change in plans... We hadn't left the country after all.

Two men I recognised from our initial meeting stood to my left chatting over the heavy winds that picked up as the blades beat closer. I kept my hands in my winter jacket and watched emotionlessly. They seemed eager to see me show face, as if they considered I wouldn't. Then again, I couldn't imagine many other candidates with the same credentials...

The helicopter finally dropped onto the pad and began slowing its rotor blades.

A man and woman stepped out of the doorway once the co-pilot drew it back. The winds ruffled her hair. The first thing I noticed was the distinct lack of formality compared to their counterparts on the roof. Adorned in simple compression shirts that hugged their muscled form and combats on their legs. I noted the distinct brand of combat boot I had recognised in military contractors and the callouses on their hands before I leaned in to shake them both.

"Tara Fletcher! I've heard a lot already!" The brunette called over the rotor blades with a grin, early-thirties, sharp features and intelligent eyes... interesting. 

"None of it good!" The male beside her winked, as he reached for my hand and shook it firmly. I quickly scanned him, noting the close-cut shave and buzz cut over his entire head... He couldn't look less civilian if he tried. I think that was the point.

"Good to meet you." I agreed over the rotors, which I noticed hadn't shut down. They were ready to go.

"I'll cut to the chase, Tara. We don't usually bother with much of the formality. We're a very hands on company and operate that way." The brunette supplied, still nameless and entirely intent on making sense of me as quickly as I was gauging her.

"–you afraid of flying?" The military cookie-cutter beside her asked.

"It's not an issue." I replied cooly. He waggled an eyebrow and a pang of sharp nostalgia struck me. He was so much like Jamie. That arrogant confidence and ready smile, the only thing missing was the Irish accent.

"Brilliant, we'll debrief you inside." The brunette nodded to me, turning to the pilot side and spinning her fingers in a signal. The rotors immediately increased in pace and I raised an eyebrow. Apparently we were in a hurry... I glanced at my watch. The day was still young.

I was passed a headset and seated within the suddenly crowded cabin in seconds. Two suits, two ex-military types and an immortal in a helicopter... What could possibly go wrong?

"I heard you speak a few languages." The military equivalent of Jamie blurted, before we had moved off the ground.

"I didn't catch your name?" I returned instead, with a slow smile.

It immediately reversed the dynamic, shifted power and put the focus back on them. He smiled in surprised and shook his head.

"Of course–I'm sorry, it's Mack. And this is Ash–" He jutted his thumb over to the similarly attired brunette. She nodded with a small smirk at his informality. 

"We haven't been around... civil company for a while." Ash supplied, meeting my eyes.

Now, that did catch my curiosity. Contracts in hostile countries yes... but prolonged periods of time, was not what I signed up for.