Jack eyes me suspiciously for a few more seconds, in obvious disbelief over my apparent choice to mind my own business, before he seems to accept my show of deference and settles back in his seat. His shoulders relax by a few minuscule notches.
We spend the rest of the flight in uneasy silence, neither of us quite willing to look the other in the eye.
Chapter three
Jack
Steppingofftheplanein Senjatas, we get hit by a blast of wet heat. My Liquid Onyx blood prevents me from feeling the effects of weather changes quite as dramatically as a normal person, but even so, the heat is oppressive and promises to make life unpleasant in a short amount of time.
Leo starts shifting around when we're waiting in the queue to pick up our bags and strips his black jacket off within fifteen minutes. There's already a patch of sweat soaking through his white T-shirt from his lower back, beads having formed along the pale skin of his neck as well. I give it another half an hour before his black hair is damp and curling up into little kinks like I've seen it do on multiple occasions during previous missions to obnoxiously hot places.
We get through security with less effort on this end, which isn't a surprise. Leo only has to flash his credentials once before they're practically waving us through with an air of impatience. One of the reasons Bullet set up his home base here is because the rules are laxer regarding weapons being brought in and out.
As promised, North is waiting for us outside the front entrance of the airport, leaning against a large black truck that looks more suited to traversing a jungle than speeding down an open road.
Once we spot each other, North doesn't wait to greet us, instead climbing into the driver's seat of the truck and waiting for us to take the obvious initiative of following his lead.
Leo gets into the front passenger seat whilst I jump into the back with our bags.
North barely waits for our respective doors to close before he sets off, taking us away from the small airport and out onto the main road. The road is very wide and appears freshly tarmacked, bracketed on either side by jungle and related fauna, like someone cut a path right through a monstrous habitat. It's more than likely someone did just that.
"Flight okay?" North asks when it seems like the quiet has stretched on too long. He doesn't sound like he gives half a shit, but politeness dictates pointless questions followed by equally pointless answers.
"Long," Leo answers with a heavy sigh, assuming the question was for him, which it probably was.
Not bothering with the same pleasantries, I lean forward to speak to North, cutting through the bullshit.
"When is the meet set for?"
North takes my blunt demand for information in stride, used it to by now. He doesn't bristle like an OI handler would have done, the show of disrespect rolling off North like rainwater. He looks at me in his rearview mirror, dark eyes watching me impassively.
"In a few hours," North answers. "Enough time for you to have something to eat or rest up a bit at our safe house, regroup, then head out to make the exchange at Bullet’s home.”
“You mean we’re meeting at his stronghold?” I sneer. “His fucking modern-day castle?”
North sighs. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“I’m guessing he shot down the idea of meeting on neutral ground, then?” I snort.
“Again, unfortunately, yes.” North sounds immensely agitated. “It’s his place or nothing.”
“Fuck me.”
“For once, Agent Roth, I share your sentiments entirely,” North admits. “I’ll be honest with you both. I don’t like this. I think we’re taking a huge risk. But the mission has been cleared, and we're going to do everything we can to make sure it runs smoothly."
His attempt at reassurance is pathetic and annoying to me. It's not like it matters.
"North, I want you to hear me when I tell you I am very reassured right now," I exclaim sardonically. "Knowing you'll be there waiting in the wings, like our personal guardian angel, means the world to me. And when Bullet decides to fuck with us, and everyone winds up dead because of it, I don't want you to feel bad about it. Seriously. Don't blame yourself. Blame everyone else. That's what I do when I make mistakes that get people dead. Accepting responsibility is for losers and superheroes."
Guilt is for real people.
Dan's voice has been getting conspicuously louder as of late. I thought after a certain amount of time, it would begin to fade, and I'd eventually be left alone inside my mind just like I have been in every other way. But it seems the further from him and the life we shared I go, the more his memory reinforces itself. It’s as if some part of me is trying desperately not to forget my brother by constantly replaying everything he ever said to me and everything we ever did together.
If so, it's a very stupid reaction on my brain's part, not to mention frustrating. I don't need to be bombarded by memories to remember my twin. He's all I can see whenever I catch sight of my reflection. I've taken to avoiding reflective surfaces in some vain attempt not to feel gut punched each time I'm forced to acknowledge that's the only way I'll ever see myself mirrored back at me again.
North, as is typical, doesn't respond to my verbal attack and keeps his attention on the road ahead.
Leo, however, turns in his seat to give me a speculative look. He doesn't seem annoyed by my unhelpful outburst. If anything, he's looking at me with genuine concern, which is something I've gotten used to seeing from him. I think he worries about me even more than he worries about Rohan, the very kidnapped and in-danger point of this mission. On the surface, that might seem ridiculous, but. He and I know the truth. Leo has every reason to worry about the cracked-out partner who's keeping mission-relevant secrets from him, the partner who got way too rough with him last night because of his high-key intimacy issues.
