Trapezoid (The Base)

Chapter 7

She heard the whip of helicopter blades approaching. With that small sliver of hope, she waved her arms hysterically over her head. Her spirits soared as she saw it now overhead. She scampered to the corner of the roof. The rapid whipping of the blades beat furiously at her, but she didn't care one bit. She was saved. The blades slowly decreased until they stilled. The pilot opened the door. She ran to it as though he might change his mind and fly off.

She scampered on and immediately shut the door. The pilot motioned for her to sit with his dark brown hand.

"Oh, thank you for landing," she breathed, strapping herself in the next minute. "I hope I'm no inconvenience to you, but I just have no idea what I'd have done if you—"

"Wow! And I thought I needed to apologize for being late!"

Chris stared at the pilot in disbelief. She had gone through all that panic and worry on that roof just because of some tardy mediocre pilot—his constant reference to a printed page on his lap spelled that. She no longer felt safe or even thankful with this guy. She'd expected the CIA to have orderly people not someone like him. The sight of a diamond tattoo on his neck did nothing to put her at ease at that moment. What a contrast from D. Smith! He had been late. What if it had been a life-threatening situation? She felt anger rising in her chest, but she chose to hold her tongue.

"What?" He shrugged all though he knew full well why she suddenly looked the opposite of a sweet little lady.

"Nothing," she said curtly. She could just imagine the smug look under that helmet.

"Come on, you started off so sweet but now you givin' me looks that could kill."

Chris turned to look at the scenery of the mountain below with its carpet of evergreen forest at its base. It was better not to respond. She would probably say something she'd regret with how she felt at that moment.

"You don't like me, do you?"

She glanced at him once without answering yes.

"Why, 'cause I'm black?"

Her eyes flashed, stunned. "No!" she replied almost instantly. "Not at all!" That's what he'd thought? She felt sick for seeming to have portrayed such a thing. This would ruin her Christian testimony if he wasn't and he knew she was. She needed him to believe her. "I promise it's not that at all, in fact it's just because—"

"I got tats?"

"That was not what I was going to say," she insisted—though she'd lost confidence in him for seeing one. "In fact I was going to say it was because—"

"I suck as a pilot and I was late to pick you up?"

Chris was about to object—but she realized he was correct. Her face flushed in embarrassment.

"Nah, don't sweat," he chuckled. "I mean, who can do better than what I'm doing now if it's their first time?" He noticed the look that appeared on her face. "Don't look so shocked. In this place, get ready to do the things that weren't even on yo bucket list," he said almost sardonically.

"So I'm guessing you're new in this CIA thing, right?" Chris asked feeling unsafe at all, but strangely almost at ease with the guy.

"Yeah, hijacked from my apartment last night. That Smith woman's something ain't she—but not exactly in a good way."

Chris felt silence was the best thing in this situation.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, he said, "Well, Miss Hopper, I'm going to ask you to unbuckle and get ready to get down."