Phone App: Portable Armory 40 The Russian's Gambit: Part 16

"This is your chief flight attendant speaking. Food and drinks will be served in 10 minutes. Thank you for flying with Qatar Airways," The speaker on the plane said.

Business-cla.s.s was a bliss. That was the first time Lizeth took a plane to travel. She's more used to traveling long distances in a car. She wasn't allowed to bring the bag. So she was stuck with a smaller bag where she put her phone on it.

She opened the phone and noticed that there were many messages from Tango. They were messages that had screenshots on it.

Tango: "d.a.m.n, your girl really misses you now. [Screenshots have been sent]."

Lynx: "Yeah. I see. What do you want?"

Tango: "Oh yes, almost forgot to tell you. When you meet Abdul. You need to do something very important."

Lynx: "How?"

Tango: "First. When you arrive in Baghdad, you must buy a cigarette. You go to the front of the airport and face towards the west."

Lynx: "And?"

Tango: "If someone offered a fire. Ask him whether if it is a Zippo or not. If he answered with matches, lit your cigarette with that."

Lynx: "Ok, I see. Anything else?"

Tango: "Ask him by shouting Muhammad Abdul. If he is scared or anything. It's the wrong guy."

Lynx: "Ok, I see."

She sat down on the seat of the plane. Comfy. That's one word describing the business cla.s.s. Arabs. The plane was full of Arabs. Maybe there were some Kurds, but Lizeth didn't know. Everyone in Central Asia was an Arab for her.

'WMD. nuke. How the f.u.c.k did the terrorist get a hand on nuke? Even, how the f.u.c.k did I get stuck in the middle of this? It feels like only yesterday I become a contractor. Hmm, many things happened, including s.h.i.+tty one, I'm just glad that I'm still alive,' Lizeth was internally monologuing her entire 11th-grade experience. Maybe, her life might be better if not for her curiosity. But, her dreams of holding a firearm wouldn't come true if not for that.

She heard silent footsteps from behind her, she looked behind and noticed the person. Russian. He had a giant figure and wearing an Adidas tracksuit. Whether it was intended or not, she couldn't decide for it. It could be the FSB. Even any ordinary people could be a rented a.s.sa.s.sin at this point.

Lizeth looked away as her heart beat faster. She worried about that Russian. Could it be that they still recognize her? Even after the transformation? He walked closer. Lizeth put her eyes away from the hallway by playing on her phone.

That silent footstep turned into a big loud footstep. He walked slowly. Is the Russian going to kill her with poison? Or is he going to stab her with a knife? She looked behind and noticed that the Russian was no longer there. Instead, he was standing right next to her in that empty plane.

That bald man with the Adidas tracksuit just stood still next to her. Unsure what she had to do, Lizeth just put her hands on her pocket and hope for the best. That Russian suddenly looked at her. His strong glare that indicated dominance was striking to her nerve. 'What's he going to do?' the Russian grabbed something from his pocket.

His hands moved slowly from that pocket and it revealed that he was holding something. He slowly moved his hands as if he was going to give a surprise to him. He was handing her something. It was her notebook.

Lizeth just nodded and retrieved that note and the Russian walked away from her seat. She took a very deep breath, 'I'm glad he's not going to kill me.'

The twelve hours flight was very boring. So boring that Lizeth didn't remember too much from her first flight experience. She landed on Baghdad at dawn, the sky was still dark.

She got out of the plane. Although the sky was still dark, sweat had already flowed from her forehead. Baghdad's weather was really something not to be messed with. She went for a store in that airport after she picked up her bag. Inside the store, there was an Iraqi serving her.

She headed for that cas.h.i.+er, "Habib, what can I do for you?" That male cas.h.i.+er asked.

She pointed her hands at a box of relatively cheap cigarettes. The cas.h.i.+er grabbed it and teased her, "Smoking is not good for you Habib." She paid him with an Iraqi dinar since that was the only currency that was accepted there.

"Next time, mind your business," she grabbed that cigarette package and went to the front of Baghdad airport. She leaned against a pillar on the entrance and faced towards the west direction while holding a cigarette on her hands.

She opened her phone and asked Tango. Lizeth was unsure about something. Was it a good idea to shout a person's name on an airport?

Tango: "Well, that was his agreement."

Lizeth: "No s.h.i.+t? I'm no longer a man you know? People will think that I'm a weirdo."

Tango: "Well, no one will approach a weirdo except for another weirdo right? Abdul isn't an ordinary person."

Lizeth: "I'm Lynx right?"

Tango: "Yes. Don't tell him your real name. You're Lynx from the British SAS. That's the most that he can know."

She played with her cigar on her right hands as multiple people were pa.s.sing by in that busy Baghdad airport. 'Was it a weird thing to see foreigners here?'

An Iraqi approached her, he matched the picture. The problem was whether he knew about the code or not. Lizeth had a strong feeling that he knew what to do. He offered her fire, "Zippo?" She asked.

"No, only matches," he lighted up that cigarette. He was a tall dark brown-skinned man. He had curly hair and wore a white shemagh on his neck.

'Oh G.o.d, this has to be the most cringy thing I've ever done on a foreign country,' Lizeth took a deep breath before shouting that name, "MUHAMMAD ABDUL!" She shouted at the Iraqi next to her. He looked at her, 'Please don't give me that look.'

"YES," he paused for a second as the whole airport was seemingly looking at them, "I AM," he said as Lizeth covered her face in embarra.s.sment.

Abdul shook her hands and gave her a black shemagh to wear. Both of them walked to his car as the whole airport was looking at two weirdos that were shouting against each other.