I Spy

Chapter 5

There's nothing more exhilarating that flying in a small propeller plane. 

Although, the other passengers who looked positively green would probably disagree. The plane was small, the wind was gusty and it was bouncing up and down. Whilst the other passengers were probably feeling close to death, I was feeling totally alive. I've flown a lot of planes like this, and despite all the bouncing about, they really are quite safe. Safer than cars. Exciting!

But what wasn't so exciting, was that the strange, hot man in the suit kept bumping into me every time the plane dipped. The woman next to me had done the same a few times- but his bumps definitely felt more deliberate. Yes, the more it happened, the more I was getting the distinct impression that he was doing this on purpose. At one point, after his arm grazed my stomach a little too suspiciously, he turned and flashed me a smile. Killer smile. A smile that would entice even the most well- behaved of woman to roll over onto her back and let him have his way with them. Dodgy fuck!

I glared at him, hoping to convey the sentiment that NO, I wasn't okay with being fondled in the back of a plane. But when- after a sudden drop- a hand sort of landed on my knee for a split -second, I'd had enough.

I was going to show this guy. I readied myself for the blow- a short, sharp elbow into his rib cage. He would never see it coming. Not from me anyway. I pulled back and jabbed, but then...

The second before my elbow connected; his hand came up and blocked me. What? How was this even possible? He wasn't even looking in my direction and yet he had very precisely and 'professionally' blocked my move. I quickly turned and looked at him. Who the hell was this guy?

His sudden blocking action implied training. Skill. Martial arts perhaps? He slowly turned and looked at me, this time his lips curled up into a kind of self-satisfied smirk. Our eyes locked and something passed between us. Something strange. He looked me up and down and then nodded.

"I thought so," he said, that smile still plastered across his face.

"Thought so what?"

But he said nothing else. He just turned back and folded his arms. If he had been anyone else, I would have picked his pocket for his ID book or wallet- checked out who he was and then slipped it back before they knew it was gone. But I had a feeling that if I tried that move on him, he would stop me.

I turned away from him and my mind went into overdrive. Who was this guy? And what was it that he thought he knew?

**

The plane ride was short and as soon as we landed, a collective sigh of relief seemed to rise up from all the passengers. I swear I saw one dude making the sign of the cross. I wanted out as soon as possible, and I wanted to get as far away from suspicious-07 as possible too. But as I made a move for the door, I felt a hand pat me on the back. I spun around knowing exactly who the hand belonged to.

"Have a good holiday." He winked at me slyly.

There was a secret behind his eyes, that, or he was just some kind of filthy perv. The kind of guy that probably kept a serial killer wall somewhere. I glanced down as he picked up a metal briefcase. It was the kind of briefcase you might carry if you were in the mafia. A drug dealer guarding 1 bar in cash. An undercover cop making a drop? Or a perv with a briefcase full of unimaginable kinky shit.

Mmmmm...? Curious.

I stepped off the plane and onto the hot tarmac once more. There was a strong breeze that you could hear as it rushed past your ears. The breeze was bending all the palm trees and causing the clouds to rush around the sky and change positions like pawns on a chessboard. I pulled my tickets out of my belt pack. Yes, I have one of those. Apparently they're so out-of-fashion that Philly wouldn't even wear one. She calls it a fanny pack, but it's actually very practical and I don't give a flying fuck about what's fashionable and what's not. I saw a trendy looking teen give me a smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Yeah, yeah. Take a pic and hash tag it." My words shut her up and I smiled at myself. People are basically cowards. They will think all sorts of thing, but never say them out loud. And certainly never to your face. I make a point of saying what I think. It's honest. No one can ever accuse me of not being straight forward. A quality i appreciate most in a person.

I looked at my travel docs, the hotel I was staying at had some fancy unpronounceable name prefaced with the word 'Boutique' aka overpriced. The hotel was located on the North part of the island at Pwani Mchangani. I hailed a cab as soon as I could, I wanted to get there so I could immediately start familiarizing myself with the place. The ride was 1 hour, or so the cab driver assured me after giving me a friendly "Jambo," the Swahili word for hello.

I glanced back at the entrance to the airport one last time to see if I could see him. But he was nowhere in sight. I settled into the backseat of the old Toyota Corolla. The felt on the ceiling looked brown from years of dirt and bits of it had come loose and were hanging off, revealing a rusted roof below. The seats were covered in old blankets and the carpets on the floor were almost completely worn through. Had I been one of those girl-girls, I might have freaked out. But I'm the girl that once spent a whole night in a sewer, this was luxury. I took out my phone to message Philly. She would be expecting a message, and if I didn't let her know I was safe and sound, she usually started to panic. I clicked send and put it back in my pocket.

I seldom just relaxed and looked at the scenery, but I was in a new country and was going to take in the scenery, for 1 hour only, after that, it was work. I sat back again and crossed my legs, but simply couldn't shake a feeling. It was knawing in my gut.

I took my phone out again and sent another message.

To Philly: Please get our friend the man  to hack into whatever he needs to get the passenger manifest for this flight to Zanzibar. Tell him to be discrete. Don't ring any alarm bells.

I got a message back almost immediately.

To Liz: U looking for something?

To Philly: I'm not sure yet.

To Liz: So how will you know if you find it?

To Philly: I'll just know.

I'll just know. Something was up. Something dodge. I could feel it. And my feelings were usually right.