Layla

Chapter 3: En Route to Buenos Aires

Heathrow Airport, London, UK

February 24, 1962

(Noon)

"Do you expect the bus to arrive just because you stare at the clock?" Layla asked, smiling as best she could given her exhaustion. 

The past two days had been nothing but traveling. Leaving yesterday morning at 8 for the train depot in Geneva had not been bad at first, but then, of course, the train had been delayed two hours. The train arrived at noon when it was scheduled at 9. The train ride from Geneva to Frankfurt was a six-hour and a half hour trip, and when they had finally arrived at the station in Frankfurt, they had to wait an additional hour for a taxi to take them home. 

When they had finally arrived back to the apartment, it was 9 in the evening. And then came the packing for a trip to fucking South America. When she had finally thought she was done packing and allowed herself to crawl into bed, it was past midnight. And she had to get up six hours later to make sure everything was in order before arriving an hour prior to their ten am flight. 

Erik had packed a single suitcase and looked at her three bags as if she were overpacking. When he asked her to do laundry she would tell him to do it himself, that was what he got for not packing enough. 

Now, they waited patiently for their bus to arrive that would take them to the London Port Authority to check in with their ship before they could board and leave for Argentina. The ship was scheduled to disembark at four in the afternoon for their next stop in Southhampton where they would board the RMS Queen Elizabeth en route to New York City. From the New York City, they would board a flight from the New York International Airport to Buenos Aires, a 12-hour flight. 

Somehow they would arrive in Buenos Aires before the new millennium, on March 4 if nothing was delayed or they missed a stop. The travel agent had made it out that they could take a ship from London directly to Argentina, she really must not have been listening. Layla was more than assured now that she had made the right decision in not paying the travel agent in full. 

"I'd rather not miss the ship," Erik sneered, not at her. "And I would like to be in Argentina before Schmidt gets word of our trip." 

"You think that banker remembered us after what I had him do?" Layla asked, insulted that he thought her abilities weak. "The man will be lucky to remember his own name after that." 

Layla crossed her legs over again, her suit skirt tight on her knees and hips. She was not exactly comfortable on the bench waiting for the bus, but she would not complain, lest she gets Erik more anxious than he already was. He always was like this before a trip. So unsteady as they sat waiting for action as if he expected Schmidt to just arrive before them and have him dead in a matter of minutes. 

Paranoid as she had been in the past, Erik had become the paranoid one since their search for Schmidt had begun. She often wondered how he could think Schmidt would not have revealed himself to them had they come across him. Herr Doktor would gloat, commenting on how he had helped to unlock their powers and made them the individuals they were today. That fool would have his balls in his mouth before she even acknowledged him. 

Like Layla, Erik had the same weakness, physical touch. Whenever he was upset or in his current state paranoid, she would take his hand on her own and just hold it for a while. Instead today, more out for her own comfort than his, she rested her head on his tense shoulder. Poor thing. 

And just as she had closed her eyes to rest, the bus arrived. Erik was quick to put his hat on and take his and her luggage, leaving her with her carry-on bag to carry. The bus was an old thing, it looked older than the both of them, not the stereotypical British bus either, an ugly gray thing. Taking out the tickets and IDs from her purse she waited for Erik at the start of the bus line to board ready to present them to the bus driver.