Bailey was surprised to see Naomi waiting outside of her work and noticed that she was dressed in neater clothes. She must have come directly through from work. Ever since the interview that Bailey had with Clay, Naomi was watching her like a hawk. She wanted to make sure that Bailey would not have a freak-out session as she used to in the past.
"Coffee?"
Bailey nodded, and simply followed Naomi to her car. She worked as an accountant in a firm two blocks away from her job. She had deliberately switched jobs to make sure she was closer. Bailey always felt bad about that, but Naomi was excelling in her career.
Naomi kept peering in the rear-view mirror, checking out the silver car that was following them. "You know, they should perhaps try to be a little less obvious. I can be more discreet than them."
"That's not them," Bailey said. "That's my boss who takes this route back home."
"Oh,"
"Yep, at least I know what my boss 'car looks like,"
"So where are they tailing us? You said they were tailing us?" Naomi turned the corner and kept checking the vehicles behind her. Yet none of them stood out.
"I don't know, but Joe texts me every half n hour, and he keeps me updated,"
"It feels so weird, being watched like this," Naomi shivered. "I just want to take you on the next plane to some random island where nobody can ever find us."
"I am afraid, disappearing from the face of the earth is not the answer to everything, no matter how much we would like that," Bailey muttered. "Do you know how to just vanish?"
Naomi lifted her brows, then slowly shook her head. "Not really,"
Bailey only smiled, but she kept her eyes on the rear-view mirror. Every so now and then she spotted a random Ford, same number plate, all throughout the morning and now she spotted it. She knew exactly which car was tailing them, as Joe explained that to her. He also explained to her all the risks, what she should do in case of an emergency, and to remain as calm as possible.
At times like these, Bailey thought she might freak out again, yet now, she was more determined than ever. She had been through hell and back in that college. She was not about to bend – nor was she going to be Silva's playtoy. She thought of Clay who merely laughed as she whacked him in the jaw. However, she did feel a small satisfaction watching him fly.
She also knew that if given the chance, she might just do it again. However, the thought of visiting made her shiver a little, and Naomi turned off the air conditioning.
"You're so hyper-alert,"
"I have to be," Naomi muttered. "You're my younger sister, and I need to keep you safe. It's my job."
Bailey just shook her head and watched as Naomi carefully parked the car. They walked out towards the coffee shop, and Bailey froze as she thought she saw a familiar figure.
But it could not be. She shook her head. Clay was in prison. He was behind bars. He wouldn't or couldn't get out these last two years, why would he escape now?
They sat in the corner of the coffee shop, out of sight from the streets. Naomi made sure to order the coffees before they slowly started an idle chatter. It was light-hearted and stiff, coating the dark reality behind the fact that Bailey was inherently in danger. Bailey checked a text from Joe.
Joe: How are you dealing?
Bailey gave a quick response: Better, ok for now.
She shoved her phone back into her bag, trying to ignore the growing sense of fear in the back of her mind.
***
Clay sat in the interrogation room. He was moved from there through to the jail cell. They often had many agents coming in and asking him a wide variety of questions. He just stared blindly in the corner, but now he leaned back and started whistling a soft tune. He was waiting. One step, two steps, three-step. It was his time to go back to his cell.
He kept whistling, according to the beat of the footsteps. He was handcuffed to the table. Or that was what they thought. The agent walked in. He was Thomas or something like that. Clay really did not care much for names. There was only one name that mattered to him, well, make that two. One he wanted, and the other he wanted dead.
Thomas froze as Clay started whistling louder, he was staring at him, directly in the eyes. The agent took a cautious step forward and Clay kept whistling a whole lot louder.
"Cut it out," Thomas leaned forward to uncuff him.
Clay stopped the whistle, and Thomas gave him one glance. Thomas fell back as Clay bashed his head against him. Thomas had struck the floor as Clay stood up and grabbed the gun from his holster. Thomas grabbed his arm, but Clay simply grabbed his fingers and twisted in the wrong direction. Thomas cried out in pain and Clay just shook his head and smiled.
He stood back and pointed the pistol at Thomas'head.
"I have children, I have a wife,"
"Oh, then I should shoot you," Clay said. "You will have an epic funeral. And I think I'll pay it a visit, see them cry."
Thomas remained quiet as he stared at Clay's widened eyes. "Don't you dare touch them!"
Clay tutted. "You are not giving orders anymore. Normally the one with the gun can give the instructions...don't they?" Clay tilted his head, scratching his head with the tip of the gun.
"You are not getting out of here alive..."Thomas whispered.
"So much talking, shut up!" Clay fired a shot just next to Thomas'ear.
"Whoops," Clay smiled and bolted for the door. Thomas staggered up, grabbing out his phone as he stormed out to follow Clay. Yet as he entered the corridor, he was nowhere to be found.