Shadow of an Angel

Going Places

Maria sat in silence, her mind still wrestling with the rapid turn for the bizarre her life had taken only hours earlier.

Reassurances that the guns were purely a precautionary measure left her feeling distinctly un-reassured. Even when they were tucked away out of sight.

"Maria, please, help yourself to the water and snacks."

Does this chap just not know how to stop being polite?

She shook her head.

"She probably thinks we've poisoned them," jibed Nicole (if that's even her name).

Maria directed a glare at Nicole who simply laughed a little harder.

"Oh, don't stare so!" chided the blonde fake, "If you look this miserable now, I can only imagine how your face will be after the next part."

The next part?!

She broke her silence to ask.

Tom reached into his pocket and came out with something resembling a limp black hat. Then she realised what it was.

"I am not putting that on!" she warned them.

Ultimately, though, she did. Guns are persuasive that way.

"I do know I'm getting on a plane!" she shouted above the whine of turning engines.

"Good for you!" Nicole shouted back.

The hood came off, and she registered the slim, but plush cabin of a private aircraft. The air filled her lungs just a little more easily, or at least that's how it felt.

Tom took the chair in front of her, and regarded her earnestly before speaking, "So, why are you looking for Melchior, Miss Turtleboom?"

"It just wouldn't be Christmas without him you know?" she replied.

His lip curled a little at that, but he simply repeated, "Why are you looking?"

"Why are you asking? If you know who I am, then you know I'm a journalist."

A wan smile from Tom, a chuckle from the nearby Nicole.

"Nicole ... not helpful," chided Tom, before returning his attention.

"Well yes Maria, you wouldn't be the first journalist to go hunting Melchior. Your methods, and your stamina though ... now they are a little beyond the normal wouldn't you say?"

She just looked back.

"Your computer has a big hole in it, did you know?" called over Nicole, examining her archaic piece of tech.

She considered telling them to stop handling her stuff, but then again, guns. Matters seemed on the pleasant side for now, but people don't bring firearms to kid's parties. Well, sane people.

Tom was still looking at her.

"I'm a journalist, I thought I could get a scoop. By the way things are going," Maria looked around with eyebrow raised, "I think I might have found one."

"Another wise-ass, just what we need," offered Nicole, now examining the lining of her bag.

The man opposite her sighed, slipping a hand across his brow.

"Yes, Maria, but that's not it. At least, that's not all of it."

"Aha!" sounded his blonde companion, and Maria looked over to see her holding up the flash drive keyring. Grandpa's keyring.