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"Crowded area." Seth pulls one of his bangs down, makes it look like he's distracted. "Don't think he'll try anything here."
"Wouldn't put it past him."
James shifts in his seat next to the blond, straightening his back, turning the page. The target, Trevor,—and Charles was kind enough to supply only a first name this time— was here, somewhere. A name, but no description, a picture that was gray and incredibly blurry. Short brown hair, possible stubble, anywhere from 5'9 to 6 feet. Seth figured the chase would be fun.
"You'd be surprised at the lack of action you get at airports. Oh, but think of all the people trying to get past security with a whole armory in their bags. Smugglers, murderers on the run, all next to the little girl who can't wait to see the beach."
"He could be anywhere, huh?"
"Probably."
Another minute passed.
"Do you think his name is actually Trevor?"
"Charles doesn't lie about names, he's never wrong, either. I'm sure he wouldn't be so messy."
"Messy."
Seth played with the idea. He'd never seen Charles kill anyone before, but the aftermath was a regular sight. He'd pull off his gloves, wipe his hands off, place his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose like it was nothing. He didn't like to get his hands dirty. That was all that really came to mind with him.
James had suddenly closed his magazine, placing it back in the chair to his left.
"Burgundy travel bag, north exit."
With a practiced, nonchalant air, Seth peered up to see the man James had pointed out. His hair had grown some from the picture, but it looked enough like Trevor. He stood, James just behind him, and pulled out his cellphone.
"Hey," He put a bit of rush into his steps, faking a call. "Yeah, here we come now, calm down."
Seth bumped into the man just before either of them could get through the exit. He made a small show of dropping his bags, assuring the target's fell along with them.
"Oh! My bad!"
"It's no trouble."
He did his best to keep his head down, quickly going for his travel bag.
"Actually,"
James, appearing just behind the man, casually pressed a knife against the man's back. He allowed the brunette to stand, slowly.
"It'll be a bit of trouble."
Seth handed him his bag, carrying the rest himself as they found a more secluded area. He figured this would be easy enough. He wanted some blood on his hands. It was almost to the point that he would off this guy himself if it didn't turn out to be Trevor. An easy mistake, right? The picture was hard to make out, anyone could believe that.
"I'm guessing Charles sent you?"
Seth's excitement quickly faded. He exchanged a look with James.
"You know him?"
"Know him? He used me. The same way he's using you two. I wanna say it'll be better if you leave now, but he's probably got even more protégés under his thumb."
"What are you talking about?"
James presses the knife further into Trevor's back. He's suspicious, borderline insulted.
"This is all a game to him. Honestly, I don't want to play anymore. I know he's having fun with every step we take, but if I stop, it means dying. And I don't really fancy dying yet."
He pauses, clears his throat.
"No hard feelings, alright?"
Seth jumps at the sound of a car burning out near by. A black van slides up next to them on the pavement, and several faceless goons aim their guns out the windows. Trevor pulls away from James, retrieving his travel bag. Keeping the two at gunpoint, he slides the van door open and steps inside, face calm. The two are met with steely gray eyes.
"Again, I don't want to be your enemy. But if the day comes that it's down to "you or me"? I do plan to walk home on that day."
The door slams shut and the van speeds off. James and Seth are at a loss for words, and a moment of silence passes.
"What?"
The blond is first to snap out of the stupor.
"What? How did that just happen!?"
"What was he talking about?"
"Do I look like I know?! Dammit! Call Charles!"
With his anger and confusion steadily increasing, Seth jabbed the phone at James, waited for the call to connect. It had been a while since things had gone wrong during a hit, and even when they had before, it was never this bad. Through the anger, his mind didn't even have time to process what Trevor had said about Charles.
"No, actually—.... Alright... Yes... Yes, I understand."
Expressionless, James allowed the call to end.
"Well? what did he say?"
"He wants us to report back immediately."
The phone was returned to him, and, despite his questions, James said nothing else.