Grant watches with a tilted head as Charlie walks off to the left, his laptop tucked securely under his arm. He keeps on watching until he is lost into the jungle of people before turning his head to face the front. People stream across the various paths that connect the park to the outside world. To his right Jackson maintains his attention on both Grant and the newspaper in his hand.
"Do you think he will do until Hartle gets here?" Grant asks although makes no movement to indicate that he is speaking to Jackson. Jackson raises his finger to his tongue before briefly closing and opening the paper on the next page.
"Yes he seems to have good sources, could be valuable" Jackson replies in a mundane tone.
"Okay, meet back at the hotel in an hour. You know the drill" Grant announces before he pushes himself up off the bench and starts to walk forward towards a large path that cuts the park in half. Jackson remains on the bench, reading his newspaper while to the left and right of him, Becker and Derosa slowly merge into the crowds also. No one would ever connect the four dots, no one would care either. As soon as Grant is clear of the general area he is on the phone to Hartle asking what's the next flight to London.
* * *
Rush hour is even worse I find out from the rooftop of a hotel just north of the river Thames. Cars are barely moving and the drivers are showing their frustration by using their horns frequently. You would imagine they would get the famous double decker buses as they seem to moving at a slightly faster pace. Sirens blare in the distance, a mix of ambulance and police cars as they charge through the bustling city. It's late evening, the lights of planes take the place of stars that hide behind the clouds. There is an orange hue that casts over the populated city and a light breeze floats through my hair and off my face.
I sit crosslegged with my hands in the gap between my legs, here they are shielded from the breeze. Buildings surround the small hotel from all sides but few stand to the front giving me a fairly unobstructed view of the chaos unfolding below.
"You have to stop tracking me like this" I not-so-randomly say aloud while maintaining my front facing outwards.
"How else am I supposed to find you?" Charlie replies in his familiar accent. He takes a seat to my right, his movements being watched by my peripheral vision. He hasn't changed clothes since his meeting with Grant, the same laptop he carried then he carries now. I make a calculated mental decision to let Charlie start off the conversation, I want to see where he leads it.
"Why don't you like being tracked?" He asks innocently and this causes me to twist my head ninety degrees to the right to face him directly. He does the same and for a moment, we just stare. I turn away first, the situation becoming too uncomfortable.
"No one likes being tracked, no mind someone like me who likes to stay as off grid as possible" I answer, my fingers fiddling with the frayed ends of my jeans as a distraction.
"Does it bother you?" Charlie continues to ask.
"Of course it does" I simply reply, my patience wearing thin.
"Why?" Charlie yet again pushes.
I take a deep inhale and slow exhale before I reply.
"Because if you can track me and locate me, who else can? Now can we please move onto something more proactive" I state rather than question. My forceful tone must have done the job because Charlie stops typing and lowers the laptop onto the rooftop beside him.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Behind The Bullets
Action~BOOK TWO~ It's been five and half months since the events in Cuba, since me, The Black Swan, escaped again. I left The Company, it was the best decision for me and the company so now I'm free lance. People pay me to get the job done and that's h...
