Script

Chapter Twenty-Five: Atlanta

We were on the plane for about seven hours before we began descending. The pilot announced that we were landing, and I froze. I closed my eyes again, and Mark reached over and took my hand. I'm pretty sure I squeezed all of the blood from it.

Oops. Sorry not sorry.

We had to wait about an hour and a half before boarding the plane to Paris, so we bought some pops, and sat at the gate. Around 8:00 Amy announced that she had to use the bathroom, so I got up to walk with her. I was standing in the bathroom, leaning on one crutch, waiting for her to finish when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Mark was standing behind me with a petrified look on his face.

"You're not supposed to be in here" I teased. A woman washing her hands gave him a funny look and I decided we had better take whatever this is outside.

"Hey Aim, I'll be right outside the door okay Hun?"

"Okay, I'll only be a minute." Mark dragged me out of the bathroom and into a corner across the hall.

"I saw him." He whispered. His eyes were bulging and he looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Who? God? 'Cause it sure looks like it..." He glared at me, and responded, "Gunther." I froze. What the hell was my uncle's henchman doing in the Atlanta Airport? Just then Amy came out of the bathroom and started walking towards us, shaking her hands to dry them. The airport was crowded, but anyone could spot Gunther in a crowd of people.

He has huge shoulders, a ginormous build and is about six-foot-nine. So of course, I saw him. My heart stopped, because he was headed directly at my baby sister. I turned to Mark, but he was gone.

I was standing alone watching helplessly again as my sister was inches from this bastard. I locked eyes with her as she walked in my direction. I tried to stay calm, hoping that if I didn't draw attention to her or myself he wouldn't notice us. Right before he nearly bumped into her, Gunther veered right and started walking towards a pretzel vendor.

"Allie what's wrong?" she asked as she got closer.

"Walk quickly, keep your head down, and don't draw attention to yourself," I said quickly, grabbing my crutches, and guiding her back to our seats.

"That was too close." Mark said, as we sat down. He had joined up with us as we walked back to the gate.

"Agreed. Why is he here?" I responded, still shaking.

"I have no idea. All I know is that where Gunther goes, Clery goes. We need to get on this plane soon." When Amy had asked why we needed to keep our heads down, I told her I saw someone I knew, and left it at that. She stopped asking questions. Now she had pulled out another book and was completely ignoring our conversation.

We still had about 15 minutes before the plane was supposed to board, but Mark didn't want to hang around any longer than we needed to. Five minutes later, he got up, walked over to the gate agent, and said something to her. She raised her eyebrows and looked in my direction. I looked down, embarrassed. What was Mark telling her?

A few minutes later he walked back and said, "Grab your bags, we are getting on the plane." I gave him a quizzical look, but handed him my bag and hobbled over to the gate. Once we sat down, I turned to him and asked "What the heck could you have told her that convinced her we needed to get on the plane ten minutes early?"

"It may have involved a story with rude customers and a girl on crutches. Oh, and a Grant slid under the counter." I laughed, but only a little. The Gunther sighting had really rattled me. I have enough nerves related to planes without Gunther contributing his share. What if he happens to be on the same plane as us? I glanced at Mark, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he leaned over to me and whispered, "If he is on this plane, he'll fly first-class, we shouldn't have to worry about it." I nodded, but wasn't convinced.

Fifteen minutes later, the rest of the coach passengers began filing in. Then I saw him.

"Shit" I whispered, and elbowed Mark. He glanced up from his phone and grabbed both Amy and I's heads, yanking them down.

"Stay down, until he sits. I didn't see Clery, but dealing with Gunther alone is not going to be a walk in the park."

"Allie, what is going on?" Amy asked, trying to lift her head up to peer over the seat.

"Amy. Stay Down." Mark scolded, holding her head down. She gave him an annoyed look, and looked at me for an answer.

"Amy we saw Gunther in the airport and just now boarding this plane." She froze, as her eyes grew wider.

"Is that the gorilla man with a gun?" she asked, trying to peer over the seat again.

"Down." Mark grunted, pushing her head harder, getting irritated.

"Yes Aim. Now stay down for a few more minutes. Please." I plead with her. Mark let go of her head, and rested his arm on my shoulder. After about three minutes of waiting, he looked up over the seats.

"I think we should be okay, as long as he doesn't go to the rear bathroom, he won't be able to see us. The chairs are too high, and he's about twenty rows up." I breathed a sigh of relief, but wasn't quite comfortable with the idea of him being on the same plane. He did hold a gun to my sister's head, and tried to kill us on another plane. Needless to say, I have a reason to be tense.

The plane began to taxi again and I remembered that I was once again trapped in a plane. This time, with Gunther. I took a deep breath in. Mark slowly reached over and grabbed my hand again, giving it a quick squeeze before rubbing his thumb across the top. It temporarily distracted me as I thought about his hands.

They are calloused and rough, but at the same time unbelievably soft. I loved the way his thumb rubbed gently across the top of my hand, yet held tight to the rest of my fingers. Comfortingly soft, yet reassuringly strong. It's exactly what I needed when I was tense.