FBI Damsel: Foreign Affairs

Twenty: Bullseye

“Must you continue to do that?” Luca spat.

Andrea grit her teeth as another bout of pain raged through her body.  Her nausea wasn’t enough to let him leave his side.  The best idea she could come up with to make the labor come faster was to try taking a nap with the warm water running over her hands.  But that required the lavatory.  And even if Luca allowed her to go by herself, she would’ve been constantly interrupted by a woman with obvious motion sickness.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Andrea asked.

Luca smiled dangerously.  “During our travels abroad, the woman you know to be my sister and have come across many strange objects and met a great many terrible people.  Including this little artifact.”

“What’s that?” Andrea was afraid to know.

“In this vial is one of my best friends.  I can slip it into any drink or food and you will die within a short amount of time.  No apparent cause of death by a third party.  A simple heart attack is what they’ll write on your death certificate,” he explained.

“Sodium fluoroacetate,” she exhaled.  It had been used by angry wives and jealous political adversaries for years.  “But, if you have that, then why would you be more vicious towards the people you killed?”

“If I have the time, I don’t see why I can’t make it a little more fun?”  He began muttering in Italian about past exploits. 

Andrea leaned forward, nearly blinded by the pain in her abdomen.  The woman from before was making constant trips back and forth, pretending to ask the stewardess’ questions.

Any moment, now, she thought.  Come on, just get brave and send the air marshal over here!

“Excuse me, miss.  Is everything okay?”

Never before had she been more relieved to see a man with a gun hidden somewhere on his body.  He held his hand out for Andrea to take.  Before she could even bend her elbow, Luca sent a bullet through the man’s skull.  Screams rang out throughout the plane.  Andrea sat, stunned, not even concerned about the blood that had splattered over her face and clothes.

“No one get brave; I’ve got plenty more for the rest of you!” Luca shouted.  Andrea’s heart dropped at the sight of the extra magazines hidden in his trouser pockets.  How was this even possible?  Luca caught her staring.  That devious grin returned to his ugly face.  “With the right friends, anything is possible.  Security isn’t as tight, as long as the airport guards have their purses full.”

“Pigs.  The lot of you deserve nothing more than the worst,” she spat.

“Oh, bella, this is only the beginning.  Don’t think I’m anywhere close to being done.  Not with you, not with my escape, not with anyone on this plane.”  He looked back up, where citizens were crowding to either end of the plane.  A brave steward stepped forward, hands raised in peace.

“No, Luca don’t-!”

Andrea looked away as the unfortunate man was pulled to the front of the plane, his leg wound already bleeding profusely.  He kept everyone else that might cause a threat away with an injury or two each.  She knew Luca was evil, vicious.  But not this bad.

“Luca, I’m in labor.  You can’t keep us in the air forever!” she managed.

“Oh, don’t give me a challenge.  I only get more interested.”

“The captain says he’s going to land the moment we reach land!” a man warned.

Luca grinned.  “I almost forgot about our captains.  Perhaps we should have a quick talk with them.  What do you say, Agent America?”