Chapter 7 - Chapter 7 : Why am i always getting the misfits ?

Quota 0/270 - On hold : 12 days left to start the quota "Why am I so unlucky?" Victor pondered as he attempted to converse with the woman before him. They hadn't even managed to exchange a few words before hitting the language barrier.Victor knew a couple of English words but didn't even understand their meaning in French. Needless to say, an English conversation was out of the question, and the woman understood this instantly.She extended her hand and introduced herself:"**Shirley**."'What does that even mean? Is it a greeting or her name?' Victor had no clue, but he shook her hand anyway. The woman appeared slightly disappointed, probably expecting him to kiss her hand instead. Nonetheless, she quickly recovered, pulled out her phone, and launched an instant translation app. She started typing before turning the screen toward Victor:"Hello hand, I will take your hotel." Victor shifted his gaze from the phone to look at her with suspicion. She continued typing on her phone with a slight smile:"If you'd follow me, we'll go on my car." Victor glanced again at the woman in front of him.'I hate to say it, but I'm getting the feeling this woman isn't crazy. It must be the automatic translator acting up,' he thought as he followed her out of the airport. Surrounding them were the iconic yellow taxis of New York and their drivers trying to attract tourists amidst the general commotion. It seemed the perfect spot to park a taxi, yet the woman did not slow down. She headed towards the parking area reserved for those picking up relatives.Inside, there were all sorts of vehicles from city cars to German sedans and, of course, American pickups. They were, in fact, walking towards one of these pickups. Victor couldn't understand how anyone could buy something so large and tall when even he, who was not short, couldn't reach the top. But at least he felt reassured. He had had his fill of German sedans and preferred getting into something, admittedly more imposing, but with less horsepower. However, he had forgotten one detail.He was now in the United States, the land of drag racing from one traffic light to another, and the first step to winning these races was to make your opponent believe they had a chance to beat you.Americans were willing to do anything to win these races, even if it meant putting over 1000 horsepower in an ordinary pickup that had never asked for anything. Victor only had a short moment to sense the danger and consider fleeing when the engine started, as it was surprisingly two to three times louder than sports cars.But he still went in and they set off.The woman gave off the perfect impression of being civilized. She drove within the speed limit with admirable smoothness, somewhat offset by the roar of the engine. But so far, so good. The airport was outside the city, so they took the ring road.Still no issues.Victor even began to get comfortable in his seat and closed his eyes. They left the ring road and entered an avenue. And then, disaster struck.A traffic light appeared ahead of them.As Victor was resting comfortably in his seat, hell broke loose behind him. It was the sound of a demon that had been chained for far too long and was finally freed after several minutes on the road. Victor slowly opened his eyes to look pleadingly at the woman beside him. She was the human embodiment of the devil, barely containing an inhuman smirk and a demonic gaze that sent shivers down Victor's spine.'Damn this woman, damn this woman, damn this woman !' he internally screamed. He turned his head towards the demon's prey. It was a German sedan. A black Mercedes with a young man in his twenties at the wheel and a dazzlingly beautiful woman in the passenger seat.Victor was now curious on how this man was always managing to pick his worst nightmares as opponents. After likely taking the same flight as Victor, and after getting robbed, the man had rented the same Mercedes he had in Lille only to be humiliated by the first American to come along. The man had realized that there was a problem when he heard the demonic roar of the engine of his opponent but it was too late to back down.Victor gripped the armchairs off his seat with all his might, the sheer force of the acceleration pinning him to his seat. If the man had already lost the start-up duel against Victor's small city car, he stood no chance against the modified pickup of the American woman. She violently shifted gears, reaching the next traffic light in seconds. Once she won the race, her face returned to its human form. She resumed her polite smile while looking amusedly at Victor with her captivating green eyes.'Damn this woman,' Victor sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He had just seen about ten red-lights and probably a hundred Americans ready to race against a regular-looking pickup truck. The journey's end was anything but comfortable for Victor, who was even starting to miss the cozy BMW of his floor manager.After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the hotel. Despite resting throughout the plane ride, the thirty-minute car journey had completely drained him. He hopped out of the pickup and onto the ground. In front of them stood a hotel facade, eerily familiar to Victor. A valet came down the stairs to welcome them and take the monstrous vehicle a few hundred meters away. Victor began climbing the steps before noticing the woman hadn't followed behind him. She was still at the bottom of the stairs, seemingly giving a list of instructions to the valet, who was nodding after each sentence. Only after she had ensured that the doorman had understood and memorized everything did she reluctantly hand him over the keys. She caught up with Victor waiting at the top of the stairs, and together, they entered the hotel. The decor was exactly the same as the one of the Lille's hotel, even the guests bore a striking resemblance to those in Lille, with one slight difference : their attire was equally modest, but Victor could sense that these guests were significantly wealthier. The Swiss watches on their wrists and tailored suits hinted at a step up in the customer base from one hotel to another.Yet, everything else was the same.Even the receptionist wore the exact outfit as the one in Lille. Upon entering, he had called out to them,"**Miss Johnson and Mr. De la Fayette, the manager awaits for you in his office.**"Noticing Victor's puzzled look and presumably having been informed of his poor English level, he repeated with a perfect French accent,"Mr. De la Fayette, the hotel manager is expecting you in his office."Victor appreciated the gesture and followed Shirley into the elevator.After a brief rumble and a few seconds, they had arrived.The office was identical to the Lille one, except that the view of New York's skyscrapers was far more captivating than Lille's fog and rain. Several people were seated in the office : the charismatic young manager of the New York branch, a disheveled thirty-something man with keen eyes, and a young woman. Victor wouldn't normally think that she was older than fifteen, but she was cleaning an assault rifle in her hands."The legal age for carrying a weapon in the United States is eighteen, so she must be at least eighteen, right?"Victor was trying to reassure himself but he was not really helped by her youthful face the fact that she was wearing a schoolgirl uniform.The manager stood up to greet them, offering Miss Johnson a gentlemanly kiss on the hand and shaking Victor's hand vigorously."Pleasure to meet you, Mr. De la Fayette. I've heard a lot about you."Victor wondered who could be talking of him behind his back. His mind raced through all the possibilities: his weird and introverted inner self, his old boss who was more interested in her watch than him, the Lille's hotel manager who had given him his badge, and an unknown voice in his head.Only his inner self knew about the system, so it must have been him who spilled the beans. "Watch your back if I ever catch you one day," he thought, maintaining a polite smile.The manager, skilled at reading facial expressions, saw through him,"It seems Mr. De la Fayette doesn't like being the center of attention.- Don't worry, my old friend loves to play tricks on me," Victor replied while thinking of him beating up his inner self with a shovel.The manager, while surprised by the term "old friend," still hid his emotions behind a smile and invited them to sit."Now that you're here, let me explain why you were invited. In ten days, you'll visit Dine on Staten Island to complete your second quota. You have ten days to get acquainted. I'll be available if you have any questions. Remember, there's a reason I chose you for this mission, so I hope you won't disappoint me."The warning was clear, but no one in the room took it seriously. The young girl was still cleaning her rifle, the redhead was still more interested in retrieving her pickup than the current conversation, the man had a "try me" look on his face, and Victor was looking at the scene with confusion.'Why do I always end up with the misfits ?' Despite their quirks, there was no doubt about their capabilities. Yet, they weren't heading into a war zone, or so Victor thought. But more pressing than any of that, Victor had a crucial question for the hotel manager."Can I stay at the hotel during the job ?- Of course, just keep your badge with you for identity verification.- About that... my badge was stolen on the plane."All eyes in the room turned to him, each silently asking,'Who would dare?'