The jet ride was surprisingly pleasant. He did not touch anything offered to him of course, but other than that, it was very comfortable. Irina sat in a seat opposite him across a small, round table bolted to the floor. There was no in-flight movie to lull him off to sleep, and perhaps that was a good thing. He awkwardly ran his hands through his brown locks, shooting a side glance at Irina. She was reading a book--He was tempted to lean over and see the title, but resisted the urge. Leaning back in his seat, he silently picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails. Anything to keep him occupied. Every so often he shot dark glances at Irina, almost to prove that he could.
The plane landed at a private runway, but it was too dark to make out anything but the silhouettes of edifices from the tiny plane window. Two bodyguards appeared out of nowhere and 'assisted' him off of the jet, prodding his back with the muzzle of their guns. Irina was closely followed--two guards were helping her off too.
---
Of Mice of Men. One of her favorite books. She had started reading it when Sydney was born, and she hadn't stopped rereading it since then. Just to remind her.
Once in a while she lifted her gaze from the text to watch her companion, who was shooting her shady looks. She simply cocked a brow and returned to reading. This Michael Vaughn was a very puzzling character, but she shrugged it off. It wasn't every day that someone you knew for went missing. That is, unless, of course, you were Irina Derevko.
After the entire ride in silence, she book marked her page and set it on the silver surface that separated them. They most likely would not be allowed to bring anything it.
Impassive orbs show no emotion whatsoever as the guards lift her out of her seat and shoved her off the airplane. She offered no form of resistance and gave no signal to her partner--She only hoped he would have enough brains to figure out what was going on.
They were jostled into a small building, down numerous hallways, through several trapdoors, and from there, what seemed like an office. It was very bland but well adorned to say the least, with a pricy carpet covering the wooden panels and a mahogany desk set before a austere chair. One or two paintings were hung upon the cement walls, filling the empty spaces that the bookshelves did not. Two guards settled themselves, stiff and on alert, eyes straight ahead.
She sat there in silence, daring to turn to look at Vaughn. He seemed to be silently fuming, hand placed over his now empty gun holster. She could tell his was quite shook up at being here with two wanted personages on the premise and nothing to defend him with. But that probably wasn't all that was on his mind.
The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open. Irina oscillated, placidly but warily eyeing the portal.
---
"She's not here."
"I must have heard you incorrectly. She isn't there?"
"No sir."
"Did you see her at all?"
"No sir. Some guards had been taken out though, sir. I assume someone else has been here before us."
"Damn."
There was a pause.
"Are you in her office now?"
"Yes sir, at least, it seems to be."
"Good. Tell me if any blueprints in the file cabinet by the door are missing."
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((I liked this chapter... -insane cackle- Lots of action, lots of suspense, lots of drama... Don't you just love me for leaving you hanging?))