As soon as the laptop booted up a mission log appeared on screen with instructions outlining everything that had happened so far and what was ahead. The trip to Greece was a diversion. The long car ride to Alexandropoulis, along with the moderately priced hotel, was Erik’s idea to show some type of cost savings. In Chris's mind, it was completely contradictory to the private jet they took over.
Skipping ahead, Chris saw the meeting point in Syria; Aleppo. More information would be sent or relayed directly from another team member upon arrival. After having no clue where exactly Aleppo was, Chris decided to read the log completely. They had one more long, car ride ahead. A seventeen hour trip to Gazientep, Turkey began at 0600 tomorrow.
Chris pulled out his phone to see if he had a signal. He wondered how much it would cost to make a call back home. Even though it would probably piss her off, Chris texted Sadie. It was a long piece. He imagined Sadie waiting patiently for the words to hit her phone, but then again she wouldn’t just be sitting around waiting for anything. Chris’s mind jumped away from the pretend back to his present actions and panicked. Could they send text messages right now? Frank didn't say anything and had to have seen him typing. Chris double checked the report. Nothing. Whatever, he thought a little too late anyways.
According to his phone, local time was just after five p.m. Dinner and more sleep appeared to be the schedule on tap. Chris moved his eyes slowly across the room. Stupid Frank sitting and watching the stupid TV. Curtains moved gingerly from the breeze outside. They probably had a balcony. Chris walked over to check it out. Frank attempted to ignore him, but kept everything in his peripheral vision. The balcony faced out into the sea. They were only on the second floor, but the slight elevation allowed an amazing scene.
It wasn't the Italian Riviera or anything as spectacularly wealthy. It was the sea under beautiful conditions with a smattering of small sailboats rocking gently center stage.
“Quit gawking at the seagulls. If we want to eat, we need to order room service now,” said Frank from his bed, eyes still stuck on the TV.
Chris stayed put for a minute longer, but that was all his stomach could take. He spun his way back in through the curtains while looking for a remark from Frank. It was pure nonsense and a childish ruse to get a laugh out. Frank fell for the idiotic stunt in days past, but wasn't so susceptible now. Chris ambled over to a desk with the menu.
“Hmmmm,” he said.
“Oh my God,” whispered Frank.
“The tiganita looks good, it says fried zucchini for an appetizer. Oh man, they have lobster. I bet it's fresh as hell. I'll order you the fried squid.”
“Stop playing around. Order two appetizers, two lobsters, and some water.”
“We're in Europe. Wine is required with dinner.”
“Not tonight. I don't want to deal with you being anymore of an ass. Remember, we have work tomorrow.”
“You're an ass.”
“Fuck, Chris! Take the hint and shut up!” Frank sat up and gave the moment a second before he jumped off the bed and flew out the door.
Chris snorted at Frank’s tirade out of the room as if it would relinquish all responsibility. But Frank's exit made Chris think. He didn’t realize how rocky things had gotten between them. Or maybe the pressure of the mission was getting to Frank, thought Chris. But Frank always handled pressure a thousand times better than Chris ever did. He was taking things too lightly, but he couldn’t help but joke about it. Chris ordered the meal; maybe that will help.
A half an hour later Frank walked in with the room service. The smell was maddening. Chris planned an apology but could only think about the aroma of light batter next to the pungent garlic butter. Frank set the tray down and both men jumped into the meal without a pause or comment.
The lobster was fresh as hell and was gone first. Then they went between slices of bread drenched in balsamic vinegar and olive oil and bites of country salad. After nothing was left they sat with their eyes still on their plates.
“I’ve been an ass,” said Chris.
“Asshole,” said Frank.
“Asshole,” said Chris. “We haven't seen much of each other. I didn't mean to ditch you for Johnykin at the game. I don't like what we're doing here. I’m not made for this, but I need to take it more seriously. It’s just Sadie is so upset about me dying. I don't want to die either. I don't want you to die.”
“Where are you going with all this?”
Chris didn't know. He spewed out practically nothing that followed a logical path. “I want to be friends again after I quit, without saying it so lamely.”
“Well that was lame. Try again.”
“I...” Chris waved his arms up and slapped them down on his knees. His eyes opened wide in an effort to communicate the difficulty of thinking after gorging on a delicious meal. “I quit.”
“Shit. You're giving up already?” said Frank.
“I can't do this job,” said Chris.
“I meant the apology. I know this isn't the best place for you. Especially when you keep pulling stupid shit.”
“Then why did you drag me here.”
“I didn't drag you. We needed a job and I saw an opportunity. I extended it to you because that's what friends fucking do. I didn't make you do shit. You chose.”
“How could I choose anything when you drove up to my house and picked me up.”
“You got in the car. You could've said no anytime. You can't blame me if you're not happy with this.”
“It's not just that. We were supposed to be IT guys. We were supposed to have safe jobs, not Chuck Norris kill a thousand bad guys’ jobs.”
“Then why did you save that little kid? You put yourself out there and got both of us swept up in the Supers' jobs. I didn't do that.”
“It was an accident. I couldn't just let her die.”
“No it wasn't. You chose to do what you did. Just like you chose to be in this room right now. Stop putting that on anyone else but yourself. You're not a little baby.”
“And I choose to quit. I'm not going to do this anymore.”
“Then why didn't you stay behind? If you're really gonna quit, then do it. This isn't X-Tech. You don't put in a two weeks' notice. If you're done, you're done.”
“It's not X-Tech, but I owe Johnykin and you one more time.”
“You don't owe me shit.” Frank was about to leave again.
“Yes I do owe you shit, because when this is over, like I said, I still want to be friends. I want to hang out at barbecues and workout and see our kids grow up together. I'm not going to forget everything because of some stupid job.”
“This job isn't stupid.”
“To you it isn't and that's why I'm here. But it’s stupid for me. I can be killed for doing nothing and that is very stupid.”
“It's not nothing! We're here to help people; to fight for them.”
“I don't fight to help people. I'm not a soldier or Super or whatever.”
“Well, I am.”
“Then keep on fighting. Do what you're supposed to do and die for what you're supposed to.”
“I'm not going to die here. We're not going to die here.”
“What? Come on Frank. I know you're tough, but we can die out here. Klaus almost died. It might even happen to them. I don’t know.”
“That was an accident. He's fine.”
Chris saw everything winding down into the clumsy details that inevitably blurred the bigger truth. He pulled at his hair to draw out time to think. “Again. This isn't my role. If it's yours, then that's great. That's why I'm here for a little while longer, to support you guys.”
“We don't need your fucking support.”
“Okay, but you were right. It was my choices that got me here. It's my choice again to stay for one more if you like it or not.” Chris knew that was the best he could end it with. He stood from his chair, awkwardly stepped around Frank, and walked out of the room.
In the hallway, Chris put his hands behind his h
ead and breathed in deeply. That was more tiring than anything else that day. He stayed just outside the door staring at the wallpaper and ceiling with nothing passing through his head.
Then the door popped open with a crack. Chris jumped and released his hands from the back of his head to turn. He really wasn't paying attention. He thought it was the door to his room and expected Frank to be there. It was Johnykin instead.
“Scared you,” she said.
“Not really.” Chris began a smile to indicate his willingness to play around, but stopped when he saw Johnykin's lips stay set.
“You guys need to keep it down. The whole floor caught ninety percent of your bickering.”
“Sorry. Forgot we're keeping a low profile.” He could hear his tone bordering on playful again and made a note to stop, but he was tired of arguing and being serious.
“Did you eat yet? We have an early morning. You checked the mission log, didn't you?” she said.
“Uh-huh. Now I know exactly what we’re doing.”
“It's going to update. Things are changing constantly around here —“
“You wanna get some dessert. I'm pretty full, but I would love something sweet right now.”
“We should get back to our rooms to prepare for tomorrow.”
“Prepare for what? You just said everything's changing. I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm trying to be nice and even if it fails, at least I’ll be happy with the fact that I tried. Do they do gelato here?”
“That's Italy.”
“And we're in Syria, right?”
“That’s not that funny.” But Johnykin walked with Chris down the hall to the stairs anyways.
“I’ll work on it,” said Chris. Johnykin smiled but turned her head to the wall to let it fade.
Outside the hotel, the sun broke reds and oranges across everything and invited more than just Chris and Johnykin to wander the streets in its dying hour. Most people had parked their cars and joined each other on the sidewalks to attend familiar haunts or start a tradition at a new one.
Even though the signs were predominantly Greek with a few sporting English underneath, it was obvious from a quick glance which stores dabbled in food; most of them.
With so much to take in, Chris and Johnykin hadn't said a word since the hotel. The quiet was comfortable and for the best. Chris needed time to refuel his brain. Sticking to pantomime they pointed and nodded until a couple blocks down Johnykin peeked inside a small café.
It was enough for her to break back to dialogue. “This looks good. Will a little coffee and pastry work to satisfy that sweet tooth?”
“It’s no 31 Flavors, but what the hell,” said Chris, and opened the door for her.
They stepped up to a glass counter with dozens of tantalizing pastries. The server didn’t speak English, but a bit of their old miming skills, including ‘that one’ and a finger pointing through the glass, got the message across.
Chris played the gentlemen without saying a word and handed over his credit card. Johnykin grabbed it back just in time in exchange for Euros. He had no idea what he was doing. It annoyed Johnykin at first, but by the time they were seated and sipping coffee it endeared him to her.
It was embarrassing. He didn't think about the mission when he pulled out his wallet and now he couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't about the mission. It would have been a bad move especially with Johnykin leaning back slightly in her chair admiring the other couples in the room. He could see her relaxed and tried to step out of his head to soak in the moment like her.
The coffee was scalding, but the flaky, syrup drenched roll screamed to be devoured as quickly as possible. Chris took one bite and it was gone. Johnykin continued her calm demeanor, taking a small sample bite, brushing away any possible crumbs from her lips, and placing the pastry back on her plate.
Now Chris was left with only the coffee and taking minute sips to avoid third degree burns. He wasn't sure how much time had passed in his feasting on their tiny dessert, but he did know they hadn't spoken since ordering. Without the pastry he fell back into his thoughts to realize they hadn't made eye contact either since they sat down. Johnykin was on the last bite of her roll, although with the dainty approach she took it might turn into five. Chris saw how beautiful she was again. She shouldn’t be out fighting anyone. She should be here with an admirer/boyfriend/husband indulging in the loveliest parts of life.
But now he was just staring. Did he need to say anything? Nothing came to him except, again, questions about the mission. By all accounts things were going well. Johnykin appeared in high or rather tepid spirits. He felt similarly. Maybe this was what they should have: a partnership that involves saving the world.
“I'm happy you're leaving,” said Johnykin, almost making Chris spit up his coffee.
He had to repeat it in his head first before responding. “You are?”
“Yeah. This isn't the right place for you. I don't think it's the right place for me either. I need more time to think about it. Think about what I want to do after. Yeah…”
“Thanks.” Chris felt suspicious. “You don't have to stay for like four years or anything? I mean, I didn’t see anything in my contract. Did you sign a contract?”
“Yeah.”
They sipped their coffee simultaneously. Johnykin stared off to gather her thoughts. Chris stared at her in anticipation.
“What would you want to do after this?” asked Chris, getting anxious from waiting.
“I want a family.”
“Can you have a family? Like your super powers and stuff won't get in the way. Did they test any of that at the lab?”
Johnykin looked him in the eye with a twinge of anger on her brow. Chris hid behind his coffee cup with another sip.
“It’s not a disease. I can have kids.” She jumped away from more details. “I used to dance, but that's not gonna happen again. Maybe I can be a nurse. I like helping people. I like helping kids.”
Chris attempted to get out from behind his mug. “Or a superhero doctor.”
Johnykin smiled at the suggestion and repeated it. “Or a doctor.” Her smile continued and Chris put down his cup in relief.
Johnykin gazed into the black water of her cup now looking for protection. Chris became confused at the turn and began to do what was natural; imitate. His cup was empty, however, and necessitated something else.
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.
Just Another Job Page 14