Mercenaries

3

We had been sitting in the plane for almost an hour in complete silence, no sign of Hayden.

"Where has that nut job run off to?" Jack mumbled, tapping the armrest of his chair with anxiety.

"Probably busy," I said.

"Probably shot the pilot and flying us into the ground for all i care," Jack said. 

Just then, Hayden showed up, drinking from a beer bottle. "Sup morons."

Jack glared at her. "Psychomaniac. Are you even legal?"

"Do I look like the kind of person that would make a fake ID just to drink?" Hayden asked, leaning against a chair.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you do," said Jack.

Hayden paused to think about it, then shrugged. "Yeah, true. But yeah, I'm legal. 21 last week."

"Happy birthday," said Boser.

"Yeah no need to get all sappy," Hayden said, making a disgusted face and shaking her head, taking another sip of her beer. She then sat down across from us, staring out the window.

After a few minutes, Jack spoke up. 

"How much do they pay you?" Jack asked.

She looked at him suspiciously. "100,000 an hour. One million if I still the job done right away. Why?"

"Sooooo you telling me that you are like and actual mercenary?" Jack asked.

"Originally airforce pilot and navy seal," she said, downing the last bit of her beer.

"Respect," I said, staring out my window.

"Shut it," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Y'know, why do you seem to hate us so much?" Jack asked.

She looked and smiled at him. "Aw, no honey, I don't hate you. I hate everyone," she said, still smiling. Jack shifted in his seat and looked away. She then got up and walked off.

"She's rude," Jack said. "Freaking evil, that's what."

"Yeah well, she's probably seen a lot of people die in the army," I said.

"Huh. Right. She's just a psychotic pessimist," Jack said.

"Not psycho," said Hayden's voice as she walked by us. 

I grinned at Jack and leaned back into my seat, falling asleep.