Aveline and the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse

Part 5 - In Flight Reading

The jet is sleek, black, and mine.

Grant had driven into the airport via a security checkpoint without any fuss, the man at the gate accepting another piece of blank paper as proof of our permission to go through. He weaved the Dodge along access roads and taxiways past parked airliners and private jets, pulling up outside a smaller building away from the main terminal where the black jet waited.

Since falling from the bridge and arriving here at the airport, I'd been feeling disconnected from reality, like I'd been accepting everything that had happened like you would a dream, knowing it was all wrong but it not seeming to bother you. I guess it was a coping mechanism.

But now as I stand ready to board the jet it hits me that I'm really not dreaming, and that in the last few hours, I've done things I would never have thought possible, or even morally acceptable. Already the meeting with the Devil has an air of falseness about it, like it was something I'd watched on television, rather than participated in. Can I really have just accepted the task of killing a Horseman of the Apocalypse? What was I thinking!

Perhaps this sudden doubt is the result of Grant announcing that he isn't coming with me on the plane. I'd kind of assumed I wasn't alone on this mission, but apparently there are some 'issues' with him coming along. He's a bit cagey on the subject.

"No, I don't understand. How am I supposed to do this on my own? I haven't a clue what I'm doing, who I'm looking for or what to do when I find them. And where the hell am I going anyway?" I say.

"Africa," he says, but doesn't seem to want to expand on this.

"Any particular part?" I prompt, thinking Africa is a pretty big place to find someone in.

"Sudan. Or Somalia. One of the two. Not sure really. I think the pilots know. "

"You think the pilots know?"

"Yeah. My job was to just being you here. I'm not involved with travel arrangements. Look, there's more information for you on the plane. I don't need to know. That way, if the other team get to me, I can't give the game away. We always work that way."

"The other team?" I ask, already suspecting I knew who he meant.

"Angels," he smiled.

The jet's engines are starting up, making further conversation impossible, and a cabin attendant walks over to tell me it's time to go. She's human, I note with some surprise. I raise an eyebrow at Grant, who leans close and talks into my ear so the attendant can't hear. "They don't know what we are. They think we're some kind of PR company run by a rich eccentric who flies his staff to odd corners of the world at short notice. We pay well, so they don't ask questions. By the way – I have a present for you."

A present? Oh goody. I wonder if it's a sword...

"Here you are," says Grant, getting a box out of the boot of his car. I'm a little disappointed, to be honest. "Don't open it until you're well on your way, and only when you are alone. It's very important you get first eye contact."

"Eye contact?"

"Eye contact. Very important." He laughs as he hands me the box and says; "You'll know what to do. Goodbye, Aveline. And good luck!"

I watch Grant as he walks back to his car, then follow the attendant onto the plane. It's very plush inside. Large, comfortable seats and polished wood tables.

"May I take your box, ma'am?" asks the attendant, who name tag tells me is called Sarah.

"It's OK, Sarah. I'll just keep it with me, thanks." I'm slightly concerned there's something alive in the box, and that the flight crew might not be happy with an animal onboard. Especially an animal given to me by a demon.