Wyck when my cell rang. I pulled it out of my pocket without my hands and air-tapped the pickup icon.
“Rachel,” I said. “What’s the flight?”
She sighed loudly on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know why I do these things for you, Landon,” she said.
“It’s about Sarah,” I said. I had never told her who or what Sarah was, only that she was important to me. That was all she needed to hear.
“Air France 7760,” she said. “It leaves in four hours. Are you going to make it?”
Even at this pace, we would be at the airport in less than an hour. “We’ll make it.”
There was a moment of silence as Rachel waited for me to elaborate. When I didn’t she spoke again. “Well, I hope everything works out,” she said. “I’m not going to get in trouble over this, am I?”
“If everything works out, you’ll be in better standing,” I replied. I couldn’t imagine Heaven not applauding her for helping me take out another archfiend.
“Okay then. Good luck.” The phone clicked as she hung up.
“Thank you,” I said, a little too late.
I left the car stopped in the center of an aisle in the long term parking garage, and Izak and I made our way to terminal One. It was going to be a little suspicious for the two of us to be taking an international flight without any luggage, so I created a small fire under the wheels of a parked taxi and made off with a couple of suitcases while the mortals around us were distracted by it. Izak gave me a toothy grin in response to the maneuver, and we headed to the desk better equipped to travel.
“Can I help you sirs?” Monique asked. She was a perky older woman who looked like she was overmatched by most of the luggage that she had to toss onto the belt behind her. Her name badge was pinned neatly to her breast.
“Yes,” I said. “I believe my secretary called in a reservation for my associate and I on Flight 7760 to Paris. The name is Joshua Meyer.” Rachel had given me the moniker the first time I had left the country.
Her fingers clacked along her keyboard. “Ah yes, here we are. Two first class tickets, Mr. Meyer and Mr. Smith. I’ll just need to see each of you gentleman’s passports, and then I can take your luggage and you can head off to gate D7.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a plain piece of printer paper, which I tore in half and handed to Monique. She never saw me tear it, she only saw two passports open to the picture. She took each and ran them under the scanner, verifying the identities. Getting into that database had been an awful month of social engineering and brute force hacking, but I had a nice supply of fake passport information to make use of as a reward.
“We’re all set,” Monique said, handing me back the paper and struggling to move the luggage onto the belt.
“They should have someone do that for you,” I said.
“It’s no problem,” she replied, her breathing heavy. “It keeps me in shape. You two gentlemen have a great flight.”
“We will,” I said.
Airport security for mortals was a general nightmare, with long lines, crying children, juggling bags and coats and shoes and being exposed to questionable levels of radiation; not to mention the full body scanners. I hadn’t flown much while I was mortal. I had flown a lot as a Divine. Getting past the TSA was as simple as walking right by, but that didn’t mean that the airport was without its complications. There would be other Divine here, watching out for incoming mortal agents, keeping tabs on the general populace, and just waiting to be able to report that they saw me passing through. If I was lucky, they would leave me to my business and spy from the shadows.
I knew having Izak along was going to make things more complicated. No sooner had we walked unheeded past the metal detectors and backscatter machines than I sensed a pair of angels among the crowds waiting at the end of the terminal. They wouldn’t
“Rachel,” I said. “What’s the flight?”
She sighed loudly on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know why I do these things for you, Landon,” she said.
“It’s about Sarah,” I said. I had never told her who or what Sarah was, only that she was important to me. That was all she needed to hear.
“Air France 7760,” she said. “It leaves in four hours. Are you going to make it?”
Even at this pace, we would be at the airport in less than an hour. “We’ll make it.”
There was a moment of silence as Rachel waited for me to elaborate. When I didn’t she spoke again. “Well, I hope everything works out,” she said. “I’m not going to get in trouble over this, am I?”
“If everything works out, you’ll be in better standing,” I replied. I couldn’t imagine Heaven not applauding her for helping me take out another archfiend.
“Okay then. Good luck.” The phone clicked as she hung up.
“Thank you,” I said, a little too late.
I left the car stopped in the center of an aisle in the long term parking garage, and Izak and I made our way to terminal One. It was going to be a little suspicious for the two of us to be taking an international flight without any luggage, so I created a small fire under the wheels of a parked taxi and made off with a couple of suitcases while the mortals around us were distracted by it. Izak gave me a toothy grin in response to the maneuver, and we headed to the desk better equipped to travel.
“Can I help you sirs?” Monique asked. She was a perky older woman who looked like she was overmatched by most of the luggage that she had to toss onto the belt behind her. Her name badge was pinned neatly to her breast.
“Yes,” I said. “I believe my secretary called in a reservation for my associate and I on Flight 7760 to Paris. The name is Joshua Meyer.” Rachel had given me the moniker the first time I had left the country.
Her fingers clacked along her keyboard. “Ah yes, here we are. Two first class tickets, Mr. Meyer and Mr. Smith. I’ll just need to see each of you gentleman’s passports, and then I can take your luggage and you can head off to gate D7.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a plain piece of printer paper, which I tore in half and handed to Monique. She never saw me tear it, she only saw two passports open to the picture. She took each and ran them under the scanner, verifying the identities. Getting into that database had been an awful month of social engineering and brute force hacking, but I had a nice supply of fake passport information to make use of as a reward.
“We’re all set,” Monique said, handing me back the paper and struggling to move the luggage onto the belt.
“They should have someone do that for you,” I said.
“It’s no problem,” she replied, her breathing heavy. “It keeps me in shape. You two gentlemen have a great flight.”
“We will,” I said.
Airport security for mortals was a general nightmare, with long lines, crying children, juggling bags and coats and shoes and being exposed to questionable levels of radiation; not to mention the full body scanners. I hadn’t flown much while I was mortal. I had flown a lot as a Divine. Getting past the TSA was as simple as walking right by, but that didn’t mean that the airport was without its complications. There would be other Divine here, watching out for incoming mortal agents, keeping tabs on the general populace, and just waiting to be able to report that they saw me passing through. If I was lucky, they would leave me to my business and spy from the shadows.
I knew having Izak along was going to make things more complicated. No sooner had we walked unheeded past the metal detectors and backscatter machines than I sensed a pair of angels among the crowds waiting at the end of the terminal. They wouldn’t
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