Chapter 6
Lincoln
Fifteen Years Ago
Ifucking loathe the airport.
Even with Cicero’s guidance, forged identification, and patience. The airport sucks. We’ve slipped in and out of them without anyone the wiser before, so I’m not sure why this time I’ve gotten skittish.
Plastic seats, charging stations, dirty carpets, and people running everywhere. It’s like a cesspool of DNA. Sure, it’s one of the worst places to go unnoticed, but Cicero makes it look easy. He makes everything look easy.
I’m not sure who we’re tracking yet, these days Cicero likes for me to guess and the airport makes it ten times harder. People run in all directions, some sit in chairs, or at the charging stations, not to mention all the cafes and restaurants.
However, he threw me a bone with our tickets.
Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Our target is… your granddaughter?” I ask, knowing this is where she frequents nowadays. I’ve yet to see her in all of the years since he first mentioned her. Cicero only offers small tidbits here and there about her, but I think I could point her out in a crowd.
“Have you spotted her?” He asks so close his breath brushes my ear.
Turning, I peruse the spacious airport and look for what I’ve cataloged in the bits of information he’s given me. She likes patterned clothing, bright colors, and she’s got his eyes. That shouldn’t be too hard. His eyes are pale blue, almost translucent. It’s eerie.
A few women catch my attention, but none stand out.
Quinnly would be sixteen, so someone younger, pale, wearing clothing with lots of color. That’s what I’m looking for.
Moving through security isn’t as hard as most people make it out to be. Shoes and electronics go into a bin. Wallet, keys, headphones into another. Through the machine that’s supposed to be able to detect any threats.
Done.
Scanning the airport, I carefully observe and find her almost immediately.
Her hair is up, the two bright colors coiled and twisted into knots on either side.
She doesn’t sport devastating curves like other women, but she has this…
presence, this aura, that makes her look interesting.
Like a snake you know you shouldn’t touch because it could kill you, but you do it anyway hoping it doesn’t bite.
To any other human passing through, she looks like a girl with cool hair and tattoos. But I know who she is, and by the look on Cicero’s face, I’d say I’ve got it right.
Hello, Quinnly Sage Adams.
She’s got this look on her face that makes me wonder if she’s lost, or just taking in the space. Cicero doesn’t say anything, only allowing me to observe.
“Why are we following her?” I ask, curiosity’s gotten the better of me. “Why now, after all this time?”
“Because I need you to know her,” a simple answer, with so many possible meanings. “Notice her body language,” Cicero adds, “that’s where she’ll tell you what she needs.”
What she needs…
“She’s masking,” I realize, pointing to her polite smile and far away look in her eye. No one will be able to tell that she’s really calculating how much risk it would be to get rid of someone.
“She is,” he nods and walks when she starts up again. Sticking to the outsides of the airport, we follow until the gates are in sight. Rows and rows of seats bolted into the floor take up space, and people mill about.
When Quinnly stops, Cicero does, taking a seat a few rows behind her on the opposite side of the airport. She can’t see us from here, not with the pillar in the way. Still, I’m unsure why he wants me to know her.
I’ve been his mentee for three years now, and not once has he expressed his interest in me getting to know her.
“You’re going to start getting more bids, Linc. Once you do, there is only one thing I must ask of you.”
I’ve had a few bids declined, but most have been accepted because of my proximity to Cicero. Bidding on a client’s hit list isn’t only about how much money they’re willing to pay, it’s also about knowledge, secrets and trust.
I’ve got that in spades, working with Cicero for so long has given me a wealth of knowledge. Who to trust when bids come through, messengers not to deal with, and secretaries that will eventually throw in a bid of their own.
It’s a cruel circle if I truly sit down and think about it. But, I know what I’m good at, and if people are willing to pay, who am I to say no?
“Watch over her for me,” his voice is stern, which is normal for him. “I have something to handle here, but you, you’re going after her and if she does anything to get herself in trouble, I’m expecting you to fix it.”
My heart double beats in my chest, that’s not what I was expecting.
Before I can ask any follow up questions, Cicero’s gone. Melted into the flow of people here, leaving me alone and confused.
“Quinnly, go easy on me.” I murmur to myself, because for once, I have no idea what I’m doing.