Chapter 3

7.9K 387 7
                                    

Heathrow was busy as ever when I landed just before lunchtime in London. I'd had four shots of Crown Royal on the plane and I had a pretty good buzz going on by the time we were halfway across the Atlantic. I'd received a special government clearance along with my boarding pass so that I could pass through security with weapons in my carryon without TSA or British authorities stopping me. I simply waltzed on by like I owned the place.

The airport was bustling with travelers from all over the globe. The noise of people chatting, music playing, flights being called, and international news stations sounding off all around me was enough to make me regret those four Crowns. My head was starting to throb and I was ready to throw a punch at the next person who bumped into me with their damn rolling suitcase.

I stopped by the restroom to splash ice cold water on my face and give myself a motivational monologue before I left the airport. Other women in the restroom looked at me like I'd just emerged from a Stephen King story with the dark circles under my eyes and the post-flight tangles in my hair. I was exhausted, emotionally, mentally, and physically, and I didn't expect it to let up any time soon.

I looked at my reflection, displeased. My bloodshot eyes gave off the appearance that I was high off of some gateway drug. It was official. I needed a damn vacation, if for nothing else than just to fucking sleep. I hadn't scheduled any time off since the incident and I'd only taken two sick days over the course of all four years. After Dallas's death, I'd tried my hardest to keep myself busy and keep him off my mind, throwing myself into my work one-hundred-ten percent. Over time, I realized busying myself with work wasn't doing the trick and then the depression started to creep in and take control of my life. That's when I'd started to get sloppy and stop giving so much of a damn.

Once outside, I located my ride. I'd ridden with Juan before on my last trip to London. It had been a couple years, but he still looked the same, tall and lanky with jet black hair that was cropped on the sides, and that same black suit that looked fit for a Secret Service agent. Juan was one of five fulltime drivers employed with A.R.T.'s London division. He was the one who typically transported the Prime Minister of Canada and the German Chancellor when they were in town for joint meetings between Interpol and the Alpha Reconnaissance Taskforce.

"What brings you to London this time, Agent Dobreva?" Juan asked in his thick Portuguese accent.

I stared a hole through the window, peering out at Big Ben and the River Thames as Juan took us across the bridge. It had been long enough since I'd been to London that I'd forgotten just how beautiful it was. Maybe Brit was on to something. Maybe this trip would be good for me.

"Ya know... I really don't know." I shrugged and turned my attention back to my chauffer. "All I know is that I'm wanted for some type of investigation. Have you heard anything, Juan?"

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "Not a thing. I'm only informed when it's an extreme matter of national or global security that may interfere with my transporting an individual."

I nodded. Of course they wouldn't tell Juan what the investigation was about. But I knew one thing was for sure: it obviously wasn't a matter of global or national security to get everyone up in arms over. Wouldn't it be just my luck if they were calling me all the way to London to assist in a drug bust? After all, that appeared to be my specialty, whether I wanted it to be or not.

I continued to watch the city go by as we neared the field office. I told myself that one day I would have to come to London for an actual vacation instead of work. I'd only ever been for work before and I'd never had the opportunity to explore the city or learn about the rich history, which I was dying to do. Europe as a whole fascinated me more than any other place on earth. I wanted to someday be one of those adventurers who backpacked their way through the continent and became one with the cocktail of different cultures every step of the way. But for now, all I could do was dream.

Licensed to KillWhere stories live. Discover now