Between Master and Slave (Manxman, Mature)

The Race is On

As we are all lined up for passport control, I realize how tired I feel. Master booked us on an other night train from Penang to Kuala Lumpur and the first available bus to Singapore. The ride is quite comfortable, the bus seats lay down flat like the business class seats of airplanes, and they even have food and beverage service onboard, but this is the third passport control and we have travelled non-stop for over 24 hours before our hotel in Singapore and the flight tomorrow.
Master, in front of me passes through the metal detector and begins gathering his personal belongings on the other side as the person beside me passes through. However, it takes her three tries to get it right as she keeps on forgetting something.
Finally, the security guard points at me.
I pass, beep.
Shit! What did I forget? I thought I removed everything. After the previous lady, the security guard looks at me almost exasperated.
"Please step this way." He tells me as he points in front of him.
With the hand held wand, he starts scanning me. The scan is not long, as soon as it gets in front of my chest, it starts beeping strong.
"What is it?" He asks in a firm tone.
"Nothing" I reply, in a voice that is way more shaken then it should. I cannot help thinking that it might be the silver t-shirt, which I got so used on wearing I forgot I have it.
"Lift your shirt slowly." He sounds intimidating.
With a shaky hand I lift the corner of my shirt revealing the shiny fabric underneath.
"What is this?" He points at the fabric, "I have never seen anything like it."
"It's my t-shirt." I am able to reply. As he approaches the fabric with the wand it beeps loudly.
"What are you carrying?" He adds alarmed.
"Nothing," I try to lift my shirt higher to show that is only a t-shirt.
"Stop don't move!" He states louder as two more security guards approach.
I panic and look around desperately, I see master that was almost out double back toward us.
"Excuse me." He says politely to one of the new guards.
"Please move on." The guard simply replies curtly.
"It's OK, he is with me." Master replies as he points toward me.
"Please stay still." The beefy guard seem even more menacing now that he has his hand on his gun.
"Sure," master seem unfazed by the menacing posture of the guard, "but let me explain. Francesco is wearing a training t-shirt which is made of a special material designed to control body temperature. We did not expect it to trigger your equipment. If you inspect him, you will see that he is not hiding anything." I am amazed at how composed he is throughout the entire speech.
"Ok," the beefy guard replies resolutely. "Both of you get your belongings and come with me."
The two police officers, beefy in the front and the silent one behind us, guide us toward a side room.
The small room is sparsely furnished with a desk and a chair and two extra chairs facing the desk. The police at the back closes the door behind and stands erect by it.
This close, I realize that both officers are smaller then me, and except for the guns, I could easily take them both.
"Passports please" The short stocky officer asks extending his hand. We both give him our passports.
"Italians." He states.
"Yes," master replies the obvious.
"You travel together?"
"Yes, my nephew and I are from the same town."
"I see," he states as he leafs through the passport. Do I read an undertone in that word?
"Where are you coming from?"
"Kuala Lumpur, we have a flight tomorrow to go back home."
"Anything to declare?"
"Nothing, we only bought some souvenirs in Penang that we are bringing back home."
"Alcohol?"
"No"
"Cigarettes?"
"No, we don't smoke."
"Where are you staying in Singapore?"
"Holiday Inn."
"And you are flying tomorrow?"
"For Paris, then Italy."
"Ok," he places the passports back on the desk, "let's see this t-shirt, please remove your shirt."
I proceed to unbutton and remove the shirt and place it on the desk.
He stares at me up and down then speaks.
"So, this is what tripped the machine?"
Master stays silent and I am for sure not going to say a word, I am too scared.
"What is it made of?"
"It's a special fabric," master replies, "I am not sure, it reflects the heat away from the body."
The security guard scratches his chin pensively, then adds,
"Please remove it."
I look baffled at master, as I finally manage to say
"But if I remove it..." He doesn't let me finish.
"It's OK Francesco. I don't think they will take it away. Please do as instructed."
Hesitantly I remove the garment. Won't they know where we are if I remove it? Will they zap me? Or worst, terminate me? How powerful is the blast? On the video, people a couple of meters away seemed untouched, but in the small room? What would happen if teacher would terminate me now? Will anybody else be hurt? Please God let them be untouched, especially master that is standing right next to me, I send a quick prayer. Still I remove it and hand it to guard's extended arm.
The police examines it for about 30 seconds flipping it in his hands, then gives it back to me. I put it back on pronto.
"Here," the officer adds, "no harm done. You may go, and next time you pass through security no fancy fabric t-shirt. Clear?"
"Yes, sir," master answers back promptly, "thank you."
* * * * *
Even if the suite they are staying at is over one hundred meter square, Vladimir seems a caged animal as he walks back and forth in the living room of the suite, while Albert, sitting at the desk, simply stares at him.
"It has been three days and absolutely nothing. Are you sure about the men we have at the airport?" He asks Albert. The giant looks in his direction and hesitantly responds.
"We have five men. They all have recent pictures. But the airport is big."
"Damn, if they slipped through our fingers I'll kill somebody."
He walks to the spirit cabinet. Since his complaint, it is stocked with about 15 bottles, yet the only open bottle is an old cognac. He pours himself a double as the beep draws his attention toward the computer where he reads "Signal Found".
"Got you!" He adds as he rushes toward the screen. Albert, sitting at the desk already, begins punching on the keyboard. Soon a map appears with a location point, just as Vladimir gets by his slave's side.
"What do you want to do?" Asks the slave, "Should I zap him to slow him down?"
"Zap him?" He says as he zooms on the map. "No, do nothing."
Albert stares back at his master uncomprehending.
"But I thought..." He cannot finish his sentence.
"Albert, look where he is before you speak," Albert looks back at the screen, "border, he is at the border. Which means that they have plenty of security around. Do you want them to know what our slave carries? Do you want them to ask more questions and have the slave reveal what he knows? Assuming he is not doing so already?"
The computer emits another beep and the wording "Signal Lost" appears.
"We lost him again," Albert states the obvious.
"It's Ok, I know exactly what he has in mind. Get the plane ready. Tell the pilot we are going to Singapore, quickly." As Albert leaves, Stensky starts punching on the keyboard as he talks to himself.
"Let's see how many flights leave from Singapore to Europe."
* * * * *
Inspector DeLaurentis is having a beer at the airport. His target is one of the Russian's crones that is closest to the main airport's entrance. He figured that if Mr. Romano gets to the airport and he misses him, the Russian has five men looking for the couple. So, they have a much better chance of finding them. If any of them will spot them, they will probably all move in and by following his target, so will the inspector. Of course he will be outnumbered, but at least he will have a fix on the two.
Frustrated he takes a sip from his beer. Mr Romano's original booked flight leaves tomorrow morning, he doubts that him and the boy will show up here today. Yet, after having checked all likely places the two can be, this seems the best option if he has to get a fix on them.
His phone rings. He answers to a very excited Giovanni on the line.
"We have a signal!" He simply states.
"What? Where?"
"Singapore, at the border."
"How did he? What the heck is he doing there?" Then realizing. "Of course it makes sense. How could I have not thought of it before. Get me on the first flight out to Singapore. No, forget it, I am at the airport already I'll get it myself."
He hangs up. As he pays the bill, he realizes his target is no longer there.
"The race is on." He tells himself as he leaves the bar behind.

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A short chapter to wet your appetite for what will be coming next. What will happen? The race is ON, everybody is going to Singapore, who will get there first? Please let me know what you think, and what should happen. Hopefully I will not keep you waiting long. I'm locked home as I live in Italy and we can't go out so I have a bit more time to write.