Amina Dark - John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York
Amina was the last to step down the boarding stairs of the private jet. She felt gratitude that they wouldn’t have to traverse the main terminal. There, they would encounter thousands of commoners reacting to their latest video leak. Instead, a taxi would pick them up right here on the landing strip and escort them to their aircar. That aircar would take them on the one-hour ride back to Connecticut. She dreaded the scolding waiting for them there.
She and Watts stepped into one of the lightweight taxi carts. They offered Masha a separate one. A man of his size needed space. It also appeared his pride had taken a beating. Masha had been silent on the flight, rubbing his abs. The injury seemed to have healed already. Their genetics were good for that. But whatever had happened there left a stain on his consciousness that would not heal so fast. If Masha couldn’t beat her, then maybe Quinn was right. Maybe Zella isn’t normal.
Could it be that others like them existed? Ones they did not know about?
Bruised egos were something they had to deal with. Society had put on a pedestal their entire lives. They’d been told that they were perfect beings. Humanity’s ideal lifeforms.
Yet, every time they went up against Solace, they were treated like adolescent children; told that it was time to take their ball and go home. Politics had never come in the way of them finishing a mission until they’d sought revenge for Zip. COG had allowed for one of their own to be murdered, and now they were treating them like criminals. All because their public perception had taken a hit with the string of leaks.
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“Check it out,” Watts said, handing her his phone. An article on the display read: ‘Immortals to receive accountability training after unsanctioned Naguela visit.’
She handed the phone back to Watts, too upset to speak. Amina had been loyal to COG and the American government her whole life, and this was how they repaid her. What will Quinn have to say about this? She thought. Ideas of fleeing to the Middle East to find her roots swept across her mind.
The spacious, German-made luxury aircar was parked outside a hangar beyond the airport’s barriers. A guard scanned their faces and allowed them passage. Watts walked around the rear of the air vehicle and entered on the right side. Masha opened the door and stood by, allowing Amina to hop into one of the rear seats. Amina, despite her independence and self-sufficiency, cherished these traditional acts of kindness. “Did your mother teach you how to treat a lady down south? Hmm?” she sneered as she brushed past him and took her seat. Once inside, she shuffled over to make space for him.
Masha slammed the door shut.
She pushed the button for the window to go down and gazed up at him. “What are you doing?”
“Got some things I need to look into,” he said. He offered her a wink before turning away and flipping the hood over his head. She watched him march off down the long path, wrapping back around to the front of the airport.
Watts leaned over her. “Where’s he going?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her uncertainty matched by the disconcerting vibrations that coursed through her as the aircar roared to life.