The Satchel
903 Words
Blistering heat assaulted Adrian as he hauled his suitcase towards the old fashioned air plane. He was the only passenger onboard. He knew it was dangerous but strangely he was calm inside.
He climbed the stairs slowly and sat down in the farthest chair from the door. Placing the cursed satchel in the chair next to him, he straightened his back.
And then he wondered how he'll die..
A blast?
No.
Too risky unless they were willing to destroy the prize.
The Prize
It all revolved around the parcel he carried in the satchel.
Adrian had gone to extreme lengths to secure the item for his employers. But it was only after extracting the parcel and successfully smuggling it, had he realized what he had landed himself into.
There was no way he was getting that much money for such a small bag. It was either something really valuable, or something really bland. Both ensured his destruction.
You didn't work in this service and not know when someone was targeted.
He tried backing out of the payment demands in a bid to throw off his employers. But when they insisted upon payment, he knew he was a goner.
15 years of service had taught him that when his bosses wanted to get rid of something, they made sure of it.
Now he waited to die.
__________________
Cecil pulled on a pair of jeans, a grey T-shirt and slipped on his sun glasses.
Z Terminal was a good half an hour away, and he had to make a couple of stops. Better step out early.
Whistling, he climbed down the stairs and hurried across the lobby of his apartment building. A few people were about. Nancy was chewing gum, an old man was reading the notice board and a kid was playing with a planter in the corner. No body worth losing sleep over.
He stepped out and hired a cab.
45 minutes later, his cab stopped in front of the Z-terminal.
It was empty. Hmmm.
It seemed easy.
He paid the cab driver and ambled out. He loved his job.
Cecil jogged towards the runway and found a rusty old plane standing idly.
He hummed as he climbed up the steps of the plane and entered the cockpit.
He had a foolproof plan.
The cockpit was empty as promised by the caller.
Cecil carefully rigged the plane controls. Jamming the control stick and messing with the fuel gauge wasn't that difficult. You would be surprised by what you could learn from the internet.
Smiling with satisfaction he patted himself.
He straightened and left the cockpit. A middle aged man in plain blue shirt and dress pants glanced up at him. As their eyes collided, Cecil saw defiance in those eyes and then clarity. It was as if the man knew who he was.
The moment was fleeting. Adrian shuffled out of the plane quickly, but not before glancing at that purple bag.
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Adrian had some serious thinking to do. If the bag was important, it must not reach his employers. He was done for. But not the bag. He had read the contents. He knew what was at stake. So, he picked up the phone, sent a quick text then leaned forward and attached a parachute to the bag. Making sure it was secured, he stood up and entered the cockpit.
No sign of the captain. But a quick look around the dashboard and he knew something was wrong.
That young guy couldn't know that Adrian was a fighter pilot back in his days.
They wanted him to crash.
So crash he will.
__________
Cecil knew the plane will land within 25 minutes of taking flight. He had timed it perfectly. The fuel gauge will mark the signal and the pilot will have to land. And then his tinkering will make sure the gas will release in the cabin ensuring the target's unconsciousness making it easy for him to grab that bag.
He grabbed the motorcycle already parked for him in the hangar and flew down the road. He will reach the empty field way before the plane even took off.
45 minutes later, he waited behind some oak trees as he saw the plane land.
Perfect. On time.
He waited as the pilots came out coughin. Soon an ambulance and airport crew came hurtling down the road. As the rescue activities began he stepped out disguised as a paramedic.
No body paid him any attention as he entered the plane cabin.
He found his target lying unconscious. His head turned to one side and his legs sprawled in front of him. He looked at the luggage. A small old suitcase. And... that's it.
Where was the satchel?!!!
Maybe it fell down during the landing. Cecil dropped down and looked under the chairs. Nada.
Panicked, he pat down the man and even searched the cabin.
It had vanished.
The suitcase!
He hurried to open the suitcase and fumbled through the contents. The few contents included clothes and books but not that damned purple satchel.
Failed.
He sighed, stood up and thought things over.
He could at least finish the rest of the job. Cecil pulled out the syringe from his inner pocket, uncapped it and plunged it deep in the targets neck.
Then he left the cabin and never looked back at the stranded plane in the middle of an empty field.
- Writer
