Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
We're back on Monday. Feed & walk Carmine in the meantime, please.
Ilsa couldn't believe it. For about the hundredth time she tried to get a hold on at least one of them, but neither were her phone calls taken nor her text messages answered.
A closer look at the scrap of paper she had found on her desk revealed, however, that the note had been reworked several times. If she was correct, the original version, in Guerrero's fleeting, thin handwriting, read We're off for PRIVATE business. Then Chance, in his straight forward block capitals, had turned the sentence into We're back soon. Ames had added Feed and walk Carmine in the meantime in slightly twirly letters and finally Winston had modified the whole thing into the current version with his I've-spent-25 years-writing-idiotic-reports-and-I-never-cared-if-anyone-could-actually-read-them hand.
Describing Ilsa's mood as "pissed off" would have been a euphemism. They had left her behind! To go on a job she, that was quite a safe bet, didn't approve of! Why else would they exclude her? And not only that, to add insult to injury, they had also left Carmine in her care, as if she was some goddamn dog sitter!
She was just about to take one of the white glass pears she kept on her desk and give it an impromptu flying lesson in order to vent off some of her frustration, when her cell phone rang after all. Unfortunately it was not one of the numbers she had been hoping for.
"Now, Ilsa, have you checked with your team? Has a new job come up or will you be available this weekend? You know how important this event in Aspen is and the board would really appreciate your participation." Despite Connie's chirpy tone, the subtext of the message was quite clear. Ilsa assured her she would arrive in time and yes, of course she would stay in the Maroon Lake cabin she and Marshall owned. Ilsa had to fight hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice when she thanked her sister-in-law for being so thoughtful and having it cleaned and prepared.
"Have you ever been to Aspen, Carmine?", she asked the dog who, sensing her distress, had come to lay by her side. Of course she could pay someone to take care of him or leave him at one of those luxurious dog kennels (and deduct the costs of it from the team's next month salaries), but no matter how grand the environment or how meticulous the dog sitter, he would still be alone, all of a sudden, without warning. Nobody deserved that.
"I hope you don't get airsick", she told him.