Christmas Calling

Bedtime on Christmas Eve

"Wake up," Manalis hissed. "We're here, wake up." 

Ned opened his eyes to slits and mumbled something unintelligible. Manalis kicked his leg. "Put your shoes back on." She leaned over him and opened the window cover, but it was too early for the Moscow sun to be shining. 

The constant hum of the airplane was punctuated with gentle conversation and yawns. The middle-aged man sitting next to Manalis stretched to reach his luggage in the overhead compartment. Manalis grabbed her backpack from under the seat in front of her. Ned yawned and stood up unsteadily, shifting from foot to foot. 

Manalis shoved her way into the line of people going up the aisle, and hissed at Ned, "Come on."  

"There's no rush," he said sleepily, shuffling into the aisle behind her. The woman Manalis had pushed ahead of shook her head, annoyed. 

Ned was wrong. In this line of work, there was always a rush. 

Ned followed her in slow motion down the aisle, out of the plane, and down another long hallway, this one lined with glass. It was morning, but night lingered, and most of the people she saw looked like they were still sleeping. Manalis had not slept on the twelve-hour flight, but caffeine helped keep her alert. 

The passengers collectively turned right into a huge room that had a rotating belt stacked with luggage in the middle - baggage claim. Luckily, Ned had decided it was unnecessary to check bags. The boat to the North Pole wouldn't leave until that afternoon, so they would buy the necessary winter gear in Moscow while they waited.  

Manalis pushed through the crowd toward what she assumed was the exit. She turned around to check for Ned, and a gloved hand grabbed her elbow. Instinctively, she yanked her arm away and backed off. She collided with a wall of people waiting to get their bags and they muttered disapprovingly at her in harsh Russian.  

The offender with the gloves was a bald man in a white and black uniform. She kept her eyes on him and looked in her peripheral vision for Ned. 

"Airport security," the man explained conversationally in flawless English. "There's been a problem with your bag. Would you like to come with me?" 

Manalis surveyed her options. She could go with him, and, assuming it was a simple mistake, leave without being harmed. However, there was also the very likely possibility that the employee would search her backpack and find the hidden weapons and poisons that she had slipped through security. Then, there was also the possibility that they knew exactly who she was, and they were specifically targeting her. Where was Ned? It didn't matter; he wasn't good at making plans on the spot. Manalis looked at the officer. 

"Oh, I didn't check a bag though," she said lightly. 

The man looked surprised for a minute and put his hand on the walkie-talkie poking out of his front pocket. "I know," he said gruffly. "That's why you need to come with me." He motioned back to the door on the side wall. 

Manalis sighed theatrically. "Alright. It's just - will this take long? My mother had a stroke and I'm supposed to get to the hospital as fast as I can..." 

Years ago, as part of her training, Manalis had taken acting lessons, but she didn't believe her lie and she could tell that the guard didn't either. He took her arm again, pulling out his walkie-talkie. 

The guard's mistake was that as he talked into the radio, his head was still turned toward Manalis. This allowed for two things: first, as Manalis was trained in lip-reading, she was able to see what the guard was saying. Unfortunately, since he was speaking in Russian, she could not understand it. But in her line of work, it was never good to be led away by an armed guard, presumably to a room full of even more armed guards, so the guard's second mistake in keeping his face exposed was that Manalis was able to land a solid punch on it. The soft flesh on her hand connected with his sharp cheekbone, and she was surprised by the momentary sting she felt. It had been too long since Manalis had practiced hand-to-hand combat. It was less crucial during the holiday season, but it was still important to keep it in practice. She made a mental note to go to the company gym as soon as she got back from the North Pole.