Central International Airport
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Chapter #7

The Fate of Festes

    by: diana Author IconMail Icon
A slight bump and his arm slid from beneath a dingy sheet bearing the initials F.W., blending with the leather-skinned hand that bore them. The men whisked him away through a private elevator at the west end of the corridor, but not without drawing some attention to themselves. The weight of Festes was grossly underestimated by the two men who's second encounter with an awkward bump, as they manuevered the stretcher into a cramped elevator, caused his body to shift sending one of the men to his knees.
"Bloody swaggert! Assign a gent to a farm and all he does is get fat off the profits and pulls a switch leaving us to clean up the bloody mess!"
The second man replied in a calm voice; "Yeees. It does make one wonder, doesn't it."
The casual tone in his voice felt like icy fingers running through her spine. The silence was deafening with the exception of a faint thud in their direction and the hiss of the elevator doors closing.
Across the hall the deep voiced stranger she meet on the plane spoke decisively through the door of room 110; "Did you find the suitcase?"
Another familiar voice came into play; "He must have ditched it before he got here. Sorry Jack." The Asian hostess from the pub stepped into view.
She burned those words into her memory: 'He must have ditched it before he got here.'
She had heard that phrase before down one the corridors of Jacks Fortune 500 companies back in Virginia.
"Sorry about your man in the elevator, and send Chester my regards." He was about to leave when he stopped, casually placing his hands in his trousers and sauntered back to the woman; "Also, you might want to remove that room number from the this door. Even numbered rooms reside on the same side of the hall!"
Jessica jerked herself away from the door when they looked in her direction.



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