Virginia had never told Shannon much of the overall plan. She couldn't, really. Shannon still had her career ahead of her. Virginia's career at USI was probably over at this point. They would fire her for this. It needed to be done, though. She needed it to be done.
"Means to an end," said Virginia to Shannon.
"What end?"
My end, probably, thought Virginia.
She didn't answer.
That's when she heard a knock behind her. Virginia spun around, taking in a breath, losing her calculated composure in the split of a second. How had she not heard this person walk up to the door?
It was the GQ guy, at the bathroom door, knocking.
Virginia figured the best way to distract him from the bathroom was not to mention it. There were about ten feet of space between them.
"Hi," Virginia said, "sorry I blew you off earlier."
He took a few steps toward her, motioning back to the bathroom. "How long has that guy been in there, do you know?"
"Not sure. Think he had a stomachache. Either that or an ulcer. Or cramps. You never know, do you? If I were WEB MD, I'd say he would be dead soon."
The guy waited a few moments, looking into her eyes.
Then he asked, "Why is there dental floss on the floor, coming out from under the bathroom door?"
How had he noticed that? It was such a small thing, Virginia figured no one would have noticed. She played it off by not reacting, by shrugging and saying, "We haven't been introduced. What's your name?"
"Jake Turner," he said. "And you're Virginia Hart."
Virginia's mind was working fast. She was trying to remember if she'd met him before. She hadn't. She would've remembered. Which left the question: how did he know her?
*****
Shannon was overhearing the conversation.
"How does he know your name?" she asked.
Then she was sitting in front of her laptop, running commands. She put the man's voice through a vocal recognition software. It would pull up his profile if his voice was in any of their databases. Searching, searching, searching…
*****
"Have we met before?" Virginia asked.
"No." He smiled.
"Then how do you know my name?"
"Because you're not a stewardess," he said. "I could tell the moment I saw you."
"You have my curiosity," she said, visualizing the knife in her hair. She'd secretly tucked away a small knife within her hair, which was put up. She might have to go for it if this guy was on to her.
"There's a knife strapped to your thigh, you locked the bathroom door from the outside—"
Virginia realized who this guy was. She'd known he was different from the moment she'd seen him, and now she knew for sure. She cut him off mid-sentence, "You're CIA."
He stopped. "How did you know?"
"You're not a bodyguard."
"I am one of their bodyguards. That's how I got in."
"You don't blend. Like the color in my hair to the color of my face. With the other guys."
"Your hair looks fine."
"It blends well, yes. That's what I was saying."
"How'd you get in with a knife on your leg?"
"There isn't a knife on my leg," Virginia said. "Just a strap. It confuses the guys during the patdowns. They check to make sure it's not a knife and it distracts them enough that they don't think to check for the knife in my hair."
"That works, huh?"
"It's worked so far."
"Why would they think to check your hair?"
"I'm prepared for all the outcomes."
"Including a hair check."
But now Virginia was annoyed.
"What's CIA doing here?" she asked. "And you obviously looked me up and found out I work for USI. Don't tell me you want to—"
"I thought we could work together, maybe exchange information."
He'd said it with an attractive smirk. Then he rubbed the scruff of his beard.
Virginia let the sarcasm build into her tone: "Because the CIA and USI get along so well."
"Maybe you and I could get along well. Forget the auspice of the organizations."
*****
Shannon was following the conversation. The voice-match pulled up nothing. But now she knew this guy's name was Jake Turner, which could have been an alias, and that, apparently, he worked for the CIA. Shannon hoped Virginia had been right in her assumptions because if she wasn't right she'd just told this guy who she was and who she worked for and she was about to exchange information. Which was risky, to say the least. Shannon was a little annoyed at how much Virginia had offered. There's just no way you can know about a person from talking for only one minute. People lie, people act.
"Looking him up," Shannon said to Virginia.
Computers don't, lie, though, and that was Shannon's fundamental belief.
Shannon was typing fast, trying to access the CIA database. USI was given limited and throttled access. She should be able to find this guy, though. It would take her about three minutes.
*****
"Hard to forget those organizations," Virginia said. "Even when I want to."
"Why would you want to?"
"Why are you here?"
"I want to exchange information with you."
"No, why are you on this plane? What's your mission?"
"I'm sure it's the same as yours," he said.
"Which is?"
"You're testing me?"
"You have no idea why I'm asking you these questions. Just answer the question. I told you I worked for USI before you said I did. That's a sign of trust. I think you're CIA because you walk like CIA, you talk like CIA."
"Is that an insult?"
Virginia shrugged. It was.
"I'm here because of the bomb. We have intel that this plane is carrying a bomb."
Virginia was shocked, but she didn't let it show.
*****
Shannon's shock was written plainly across her face.
Her mind was running twice as fast as her heartbeat, which was elevated. How did the CIA get that intel? Only USI would have known that.
Unless it was true?
*****
Virginia wondered for a moment if there was a bomb on this plane. But there couldn't be. That would be crazy. This wasn't even that type of plane. Not that a bomb couldn't be transported on any plane. But why would there be an active bomb on a plane filled with ten of the wealthiest and most powerful lords of evil?
It was too much of a risk.
*****
"It doesn't make sense, right?" he said. "That's why I wanted to talk to you." He took a small ear chip out of his ear, powered it off, and put it in his pocket. "I feel like the CIA gave me bad intel. Why would there be a bomb on this plane?"
Virginia thought about the drinks. She was supposed to bring drinks to the passengers. She needed to talk to this guy though. She needed to think for a minute.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Shannon said into her ear.
She was.
She was thinking about it very much, and it made too much sense.
*****
"USI is supposed to be autonomous," said Shannon. "How did our intel about the bomb get to them and affect their mission? USI must be working with the CIA. They're up to something. Which isn't nefarious, but it does break protocol. What does that mean, Virginia?"
*****
Virginia took a breath, trying to clear her thoughts.
"What do you say?" said Jake. "Shall we exchange information?"
Virginia took a step towards him. Their bodies slightly touching. She looked into his eyes, their noses less than an inch apart. She could feel his breath on her chin and slightly on her neck. Looking deeper into his eyes, she put her hands over his ears. He didn't flinch. Only stared at her as she felt all around his ears and then in his ears, making sure a counterpart wasn't listening.
Then she reached into his front pockets.
"I guess we're getting to know each other, then," he said.
"I'm getting to know you," she said, pulling out everything from his pockets.
Then she got even closer, their bodies pressed up against each other as she reached into his back pockets. Their faces were touching, noses on each others' cheeks.
Some turbulence kept them together. She used their togetherness to keep balanced.
She took everything out of his back pockets. She stayed right up against him for a moment longer, listening to his breathing. It was steady, normal. He was a good spy, and a man who had been around, apparently unaffected by her body against his.
But then one of the bodyguards was coming down the aisle. Virginia could hear the heavy footfalls. He must have been close because the rain was loud against the roof. Jake started to pull away.
Virginia kissed him on the cheek, so lightly, just to mess with him a little.
He stepped away with an amused expression, a little confused.
She looked at the items from his pockets: a wallet with fake identification and American cash, chapstick, a small pocket knife—the kind that folds out into a pair of wire cutters.
The bodyguard arrived in their vision, at the bathroom door. He knocked on it. "Boss, you doing all right in there?"
*****
It had almost been three minutes. So far, Shannon couldn't find anything on this guy. Jake Turner wasn't in the CIA database.