Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I get the call at 5:00 the next morning (that’s two mornings in a row . . . Zeke is so going to pay for this) when my airport transport has arrived. I drag myself out of bed, change into one of my new outfits I had picked out of the suitcase the night before, grab my two suitcases, and leave the house to find a black limo with tinted windows waiting. The driver—an expressionless man in a black suit and sunglasses—opens the door for me and I slide into the back seat.

I’m so out of it, I don’t even notice her until she says, in an annoyingly squeaky and perky voice, “Hi, ‘Jennifer!’”

I just about jump out of my seat. Sitting next to me, is a tiny little thing—so tiny she could pass for an Oompa Loompa if her skin were orange. Short, blond, well-endowed in the chest area, and I get the very strong impression that she is infernally perky. If she’s this perky at 5:15, I’d hate to see her at any other time of the day. She appears to be in her late thirties to early forties, but good looking for her age.

“Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my escort?” I ask, as the driver pulls away from the curb.

“Oh, Zeke didn’t tell you, did he?” she asks, in a sad little voice that makes me want to snap her little neck.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m going to be joining you on your assignment!” she squeals, as if this should be the greatest news I’ve ever received in my life. It isn’t.

“What do you mean? I work alone. I always work alone.”

“I know, but you see, I’m in training, and Zeke wanted me to tag along with you so I could watch a master at work. I guess he figured since this would be a routine operation, a ‘zoo project’ and all, it would be a good opportunity for me to observe. Isn’t this exciting, we’re going to be the best of friends!”

Fat. Fucking. Chance.

“Oh . . . yeah. Thrilling. Mind if I make a quick phone call?” I ask, my temper on the verge of boiling over.

“Sure, go ahead, girlfriend!”

Zeke must really be trying to get me to break my contract, I think as I dial his number.

“I was wondering when I’d be hearing from you, sweetheart,” his slithery voice comes over the line. “The answers to your questions are: Yes, you have to; and no, I am not changing my mind.”

“What the fuck am I being punished for, Zeke?” I hiss into the phone. In the seat next to me, I hear a shocked, incensed squeak at the use of my profanity. Goddammit, this has to be some kind of joke.

“You’re not being punished, sweetheart,” Zeke assures me. “This is all part of the job. Sometimes we have to train new recruits, and the best way to do that is to send them into the field with a trained PSK once they’re ready.”

“I’ve never had to do this before,” I retort.

“Well, you were the last new recruit we took in,” he replies shortly.

I take a look at the pixie sitting beside me and say, “Wait. So are you telling me that Little Miss Glinda the Good Witch of the North here has actually killed more than ten people?”

After a slight pause, Zeke replies, “I wouldn’t judge a killer by the mask they wear, sweetheart. That is all I am going to say on the matter. Have a good flight.”

With a click, the line goes dead.

“Fucking jackass bastard!” I yell into the dead cell phone.

“You shouldn’t swear you know, it’s impolite,” squeaks Tinkerbell.

I shoot her a glare that would make Medusa quiver in fear. Little Miss Sunshine, however, doesn’t even bat a curled eyelash.

“You know, because we’ll be teachers, so you want to stay in your Dupe character, right?”

Damn it. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. If I’m going to get into my ‘Mary Sue’ character for this mission, I need to start now. Having this little twerp tagging along is not going to help, though. I’m going to have to make a stop by a toy store and pick up some extra stuffed animals for this mission . . .

I take three deep, calming breaths, and say, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s start over. What’s your name?”

“My real name, or Dupe name?” she asks, her smile never faulting.

“Your Dupe name. Never give anyone else in THEM your real name, only your Dupe name or your code name. Trust me. I learned the importance of that one the hard way.”

“My Dupe name is Bethany Martin—I’ll be a temporary teacher’s assistant at the school! My code name is Misk!”

“How long have you been training?”

“Nine months! It’s funny to think I could have had a baby in this time!”

Fucking hysterical.

“All right, let’s just make this clear: I don’t need any help. I’m not here to find a B.F.F. I am here to kill some teenagers, and get the heck out. So, just watch what I do. Stay the hell out of my way. Do not interfere. Do not try to help me. Do not ask me any questions, unless absolutely necessary. Just observe. Is that all clear?”

“You gotcha, captain!”

I. Am. Going. To. Kill. This. Woman.

No. Must stay in control. Killing her would definitely constitute a breaking of my contract. But damn it, I really want to. And I have to wait three months before I can start killing for the job. It’s going to be a very tedious three months.

“I sense that you may not be entirely excited about working with me,” Snow White chirps.

“What gave you the first clue?” I snap.

“You want to know what helps me get through a difficult situation that I might not be entirely enthused about?” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer before she bursts into song, “Some things in life are bad, they can really make you mad. Other things just make you swear and curse. When you’re chewing on life’s gristle, don’t grumble, give a whistle! And this’ll help things turn out for the best: Always look on the bright side of life, always look on the light side of life . . . ’”

Oh, for the sake of spending a weekend fucking Michael Fassbender until I can’t walk straight, I’m living in a goddamn Disney movie.

Once she’s finally finished singing, she proceeds to talk the entire remaining trip to LAX. As we get out of the car and the driver pulls our four suitcases out of the trunk, she continues to talk. As we wait in line to check our luggage, she continues to talk. As we wait in the security check line, she continues to talk. As we walk to the gate, she continues to talk. After the song, I just started tuning her out, so I have no idea what she’s talking about, which is probably just as well.

Finally, as we’re waiting at the gate for our flight to board, I can’t take anymore, so I interrupt her in mid-word-vomit to say, “Will you excuse me, for a minute?”

“Sure thing, girlfriend!”

I could probably call her a vacuous, nonsensical, bimbo slut-puppy, and she’d still smile and call me girlfriend. Oy vey, Maria.

I cross to the nearest gift shop and breathe a sigh of relief. Being LAX, there is an entire wall of stuffed Disney characters. I find a Sleeping Beauty doll—it’s about as close a resemblance to ‘Bethany’ as I’m going to get—and purchase it. I then, as calmly as I can muster, walk across the hall to the restrooms. I walk into the family restroom, and lock the door behind me.

Since I obviously couldn’t bring any weapons with me, I have to resort to using my bare hands to destroy the doll, but this proves to actually be far more satisfying. I picture Bethany screaming in pain, her everlasting perky smile finally wiped off her smug face, as I rip out her hair, tear away her arms and legs, rip her head off, and then proceed to rip apart her torso until Sleeping Beauty is nothing more than a pile of shredded fabric and stuffing.

My mayhem wrought, I take a deep, calming breath, turn around, and leave the restroom. As I step out, I find a family waiting outside; they shoot me an irritated glare when they realize I was using the family room for myself. I return their glares with a sarcastic grin, and continue on my way. That sarcastic grin turns into a satisfied smile as I hear the father say, “What the heck?” as they enter the restroom and find the carnage I had left behind.

Sometimes, I can be a real bitch.

Throughout the rest of the flight, whenever Bethany’s incessant babbling starts to get on my nerves, I picture her blood and guts—instead of Sleeping Beauty’s stuffing—splattered across the changing room, and it thankfully gets me through the flight to Minnesota.