Just Another Job (21 page)

It was dark outside the cafe. They had to
get back to the hotel; back to Frank. Chris didn't tell him where
he was going. Things were patched up somewhat Chris thought, but it
was still so tenuous. Chris stood up and headed for the counter,
then stopped halfway and hopped back to Johnykin.

She didn't look too happy about his abrupt
departure. “Sorry. Umm. I wanted to get Frank something. And since
I’m already a mooching loser date, can I borrow some Euros. Sorry,
again.”

It was an acceptable apology and excuse.
“Yeah. I should get Klaus something too. He only admits it when
he’s dieting, but he loves his dessert.”

Chapter
Sixteen

Right on schedule the black SUV waited outside Hotel
Erika. This one had a new driver, though. She was a gorgeous
brunette in a perfectly fitted pants suit. Her hair rolled into a
tight bun under a traditional chauffeur hat. She greeted everyone
with white teeth and a soft handshake.

The surprise newcomer knocked the lingering
sleep out of the group and seemed to inject Klaus in particular
with a bolt of electricity. He ecstatically jumped into the
passenger side and rambled through a mix of compliments and
personal questions within the first half hour on the road.

Johnykin looked happy for her fellow Super
and Frank chuckled to himself at every obvious flirtation Klaus
threw at their driver. The constant chatter in the front started
the long trip off relaxed. Chris leaned comfortably in his seat and
made conversation, mostly on the foreign scenery, with Johnykin and
Frank through the first few hours. Like all long road trips this
one was filled with extended pauses too; at least pauses in the
back seat. Klaus never stopped talking with his new
fascination.

They made only one stop to refuel and
stretch. Then it was on the road again and for Chris the beginning
of a series of naps broken up by nudging from Johnykin or Frank
when he invaded their space. They were forgiving, mostly because
they were attempting the same thing with less success while Klaus
diligently continued to keep their driver entertained in the
front.

Once it became dark, the naps lasted longer.
Whether it was jet lag or a lack of stimulation (Chris's phone had
no service), he couldn't keep his eyes open. It worked out for the
best. They arrived just outside of Gaziantep in a forested area not
far from the main highway when Chris woke up again. After a pause
and check to see that everyone else was awake, the driver took them
off the road.

They moved slowly around the trees at
random, Chris first thought, but looking ahead to where the
headlights bounced up and down off the ground he saw tire marks. It
took fifteen minutes of this zigzag driving before a clearing was
found. To no one's surprise, three identical black SUVs faced
them.

As soon as their driver shifted into park
the doors of the other SUVs popped open. Klaus, Frank, and Johnykin
followed the example with Chris stepping out last. The headlights
splayed a visible area in the middle for a face-to-face meeting
between eight supers and two sidekicks.

Klaus kept in front as the natural leader,
Johnykin to his right and slightly behind, and Chris and Frank
bringing up the rear. Klaus opened things up, “Hi all. I'm Klaus,
this is Johnykin, and our two partners Frank and Chris.”

“Partners?” said one of the new Supers. “Is
this a honeymoon?” He chuckled to himself and slapped the Super
next to him, who didn't join in.

Two women and four men represented the new
ensemble of Supers. They stood in pairs and looked smugly at the
situation in front of them. No personal information or pleasantries
surfaced, just names and a rough sketch of where each had come
from.

Hayao or Hal Park along with Rachel Severin
came from Florida, no city was mentioned. From Chicago were Grant
Quiteley and Alan Gibbons, who actually shook hands in their
greeting. The ‘partners?’ Super was Bernard Giraud with his mute
associate Jean Farkas, and they called the Big Apple home, which is
exactly what Bernard called it like he was stuck in the 80s.

The cast looked each other over some more
before Grant stepped up and said, “We're camping here tonight, so
we might as well look like it.” He signaled to his driver who
dropped a pile of firewood in the middle of the clearing and went
to grab some rocks for a border.

The other drivers watched the proceedings
carefully and when they saw the start of the fire pit they jumped
out and headed to their respective trunks for additional supplies.
Folding chairs, tents, blankets, and a moderate amount of food were
stuffed in the backs of the SUVs until knowing hands quickly put
them to use around the small fire. Chris couldn't help but think
how normal-esque the meeting enfolded and continued through the
night.

Once most of them had eaten, war stories
started and stopped regularly. Klaus began the mall shooting while
keeping the rest of his group in the corner of his eye for an
interjection of support or a quip-y anecdote. Chris noticed their
driver hip to hip with Klaus during the retelling and smiled at the
immediate connection the two had made with one another.

Chris sat in between Frank and Johnykin as
usual but nowhere near as close as the budding romance. He looked
at Johnykin who was locked into Klaus's bigger than life
storytelling. The notion of scooting over, maybe putting an arm
around her waist danced happily in Chris's mind but the imagined
romance superimposed Sadie’s face on Johnykin's.

Chris immediately went for his phone. The
screen lit up his face even against the light of the fire and
everyone looked. It took a moment, as Chris stared at the 'no
signal' sign to recognize the quiet. He raised his eyes to see
everyone else's. Frank grabbed the phone. Chris lit up with fear
and anxiety. He imagined the metal and plastic crackling in the
fire.

Frank was ready to throw it head long into a
tree or simply the fire as Chris pictured in his head. Instead he
shoved into Chris's chest and said in a growled whisper, “No
phones.” Chris pocketed the lifeline and stared into the fire until
Klaus resumed his epic tale.

Why can't I look at my phone? What are they
so paranoid about? Johnykin pulled his arm, stood up, and waited
for him to follow. They stepped just out of ear shot but still in
plain sight of the campfire.

“I know you don't understand, but God,
Chris,” said Johnykin. “Wake up sometimes. This is simple
shit.”

“What is? I just checked my phone to see if
Sadie called or texted me. I wasn't going to start recording them
or anything. Why did they freak out?”

Johnykin put a hand on a hip and looked down
frustrated. “We’re building a fucking camaraderie. You have no idea
how disrespectful it is to show you're bored or willing to look
somewhere else besides the people sitting around you during that
time. They have to trust you and know you'll back them up.”

“I see. This is all military stuff. We're
marines or whatever getting ready before a big battle. I don't know
how these things work and I don't want to know.”

“You have to right now. We’re depending on
you. You can't be a liability.”

“Thanks for that. I can feel the pressure
melting away.”

“Shut up, Chris. There’s a battle coming.
You need to get focused.”

They paused. Chris's lips parted slightly to
begin but stopped. He had nothing.

Johnykin finished it off, “We both need to
hear what they're saying.” She twirled on her heel and jumped back
into her old seat by the fire. Chris dutifully followed.

They didn't miss anything and as soon as
Chris sat back down Klaus broke into business, “What are the
details? One of you has been briefed.”

On cue Alan rolled off the saved
information, “First, everything we do is under extreme scrutiny.
Expect to be filmed, either by our own crew or civilians.” He
motioned to the drivers and then took the moment to also look
everyone in the eye deliberately. Chris felt the gaze linger
slightly longer on himself. Alan continued, “The actions we take
are done with the goal of peace. Do not be delusional. It will not
happen tomorrow or even the next day, but it shouldn’t be
forgotten.”

“Shit. You sound like a pre-recorded
message. You better not self-destruct on us now,” said Gerard to
Alan’s expressionless face. Gerard added, “Sorry,” but with a grin
that suggested otherwise.

Alan continued undaunted, “The mission
tomorrow is simple, but caution must be taken. The field is
unpredictable and being away from home means we have a lot less
control over what happens here. The rebels located a warehouse
storing chemical weapons. A small security team handles the site
and shouldn't offer much resistance.”

“They've used chemical weapons!?” asked
Johnykin.

“Not yet, but as the revolution builds steam
we see no reason why they wouldn't,” said Alan.

“It happened so quickly,” said Johnykin.

“And it’ll only get worse,” said Klaus. The
group looked at him expecting more, but he clasped his hands
together in front of his mouth and studied the fire.

“Keep going,” said Frank to Alan.

“A group of four will infiltrate the site
while being covered by the rest. Again, the security is small. Our
mission time is under an hour. Our extraction point will be just
outside the warehouse. I’ll call it in once the four-man team has
secured the package.”

“How are we doing this?” asked Chris. “Are
chemical weapons small? I don't even know what they look like.
Plus, won't the security guys have guns. Are we using guns?”

“We’re Supers. We don’t need guns,” said
Alan, “but you two will.” He motioned to Frank as well.

“Wonderful. Breakfast at dawn,” said Rachel
and moved into her tent with her partner Hal right behind. Everyone
else took the hint and did the same.

Chapter
Seventeen

The drivers began packing as soon as the sun pierced
the little clearing of tents. Frank was already stretching outside,
but Chris woke up to a clattering and then a bunch of canvas
hitting him in the face. He scrambled out half-conscious it was
nothing and half-terrified they were under attack.

The laughter told him everything. Almost
everything.

“We’re taking down the tents, Chris, not
pitching them,” said Frank, with an obvious glance at Chris’s
underwear.

The laughter appropriately intensified.
Chris crossed his fists in front of his morning erection while he
tried to remember where he put his pants.

Breakfast, cleaning, and packing took less
than fifteen minutes and then the four SUVs maneuvered around the
tree line on the same path as last night. The drivers obviously
knew where to go. They were a single line across the freeway with
an intimidating purpose.

Twenty minutes later, they were on a dirt
road in the middle of nowhere heading into even more desolate
space. Chris felt the nervousness tingle in his stomach and the
urge to pee even with an empty bladder. He checked on Frank and
Johnykin from the corners of his eyes. They still looked better
than he did in the black suits he thought. But however better
looking, nerves still affected them. Frank’s neck bulged with each
swallow of air as he clenched his jaw. Johnykin did her usual stare
out the window, but Chris saw her hands grasp and tug at one
another making pink blotches appear and disappear.

The convoy stopped at the bottom of a hill.
The driver relayed the obvious, “It’s over the hill.” She then
continued with more pertinent details, “Alan has seniority and will
call us in to pick you up. I’m not supposed to tell you, but you’ll
find out anyways. We, the drivers, will be perched on top
videotaping you guys. I’m also pretty sure a couple others have
mini cameras attached to their suits too.” She shrugged as if it
really wasn’t that important.

“I'll be my charming best,” said Klaus, who
squeezed the driver’s hand before getting out.

The driver smiled at the gesture. She then
unloaded two bags filled with ammunition and two very big guns. One
went to Frank and the other to Chris. Holding this gun was nothing
like the handgun Frank had him fire a couple rounds from. Chris
felt like he was back in the nursery soothing Louise. It was
heavier and more awkward than he would have believed and the
responsibility of not dropping it hung in the front of his
mind.

“Why…” said Chris and then leaped back into
his head to wrangle with the situation and the feelings jamming up
his thought process. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone. His brain
clicked over an example of self-defense. He saw generic faces
shooting at him. The Supers needed protection. No they didn’t,
they’re super. Frank would need support. Frank shouldn’t even be
here. He shouldn’t be here.

Chris dropped the gun. “No.”

“It’s for your protection,” said the driver
and picked up the gun.

“If I need protecting then I shouldn’t be
here. I’m a liability,” said Chris.

“It’s just like the target practice,” said
Frank.

“No it’s not. It’s nothing like that. Plus I
barely got through one clip. I’m not gonna pull a Matt Damon and
bust out some Bourne Identity marksman skills.” Chris looked to
Frank. “How much shooting have you done? I know you’re tough and
you think you’re tough, but you’re not them.”

“You don’t know shit. You don’t know half
the missions I’ve been on and what I’ve done to pull my
weight.”

“That makes you ready for this? Fine. Maybe
it does. Go ahead, but I’m not. I’ll help videotape if I have
to.”

“You can’t,” said the driver. “There are
strict orders on who holds the cameras.”

“Perfect timing to throw a hissy. You
should’ve never fucking came,” said Frank. “We’re wasting time.
Leave him in the car.”

“He can’t,” said the driver. “Mission
protocol.”