The Bodyguard

21

Brrrrrrng! My eyes open immediately the alarm rings. I hit stop, as I get up, heading for the shower. I begin to wash my hair, trying hard to keep out the memories of last night, as I focus on massaging my scalp.

"I don't like women."
"I don't like women."
"I don't like women."
"I don't like women."
"I don't like women."

"Ah, shit." I hit the wall. "Should I blame it on the alcohol?" I ask, as though I was waiting for some divine answer to fall from above. It was the first time I'd ever kissed a man. It hurt my pride that I'd gotten rejected almost immediately. Well, technically, not rejected— Nik was gay.

I tuck my gun away in my left boot, and walk to the mirror to tie my hair. There's a knock on the door. My heart stops, as I turn around. There's a knock again, and my heart begins to beat, this time increasing rapidly. My hands and feet become cold. It was Nik. How could I possibly look him in the eyes, talk less of spending the entire day with him.

"Ms. Leister?"

"Yeah? Yeah! Coming!" I take slow steps, as I approach the door. I should apologize to him. Kissing him without his consent was bad. I open the door, "Hey, sorry about yesterday. . . I—

"It's fine, Ms. Leister."

I nod. "Okay."

"Are you ready?" He asks.

***

"Where are we?" I ask, as Nik leads me into what seems to be a hideout.

"We'll be meeting a friend. He's American, just like you."

"Wait— is it Benji?" I ask. I say a quick prayer internally. I'd missed him.

Nik looks at me, obviously not following. I nod. Of course. How could it be?

We enter the room. "Ian, this is Andrea Leister, my partner."

"Co-worker!" I add. Nik looks at me. I look away.

"This is Ian, Ms. Leister."

Ian is a pale skinned man. He's tall, has over-grown hair accompanied with a tiny mustache. He's on the tall side, and seems to be very alert.

"Hello. I'm Andrea. Call me Andrea. It's great to meet a fellow American."

"Ian. Likewise. Love those boots by the way."

"Ian's a hacker. One of the best in the field. He'll be useful to us if we want to find Volkov soon."

"But you know that's not possible. The man's a ghost, Nik. There are no traces of him on the internet. We've tried. No one knows what this man looks like, just that he's got tattoos. For all I know, he could be Volkov."

"Take off your shirt." Nik tells Ian.

"I'm sorry to do this. I just have to be sure." I say, as Ian takes off his shirt. I nod, as I scan his body. He's clean.

"Nah, it's fine. You're smart, Andrea. Guess it's an American thing. Where you from?"

"New Orleans. You?"