Episode Four: Terminal
Jasmine scanned the crowd.
A throng of passengers waited for their boarding announcement. An endless procession ranging from business class to general boarding mingled and moved in waves from one end of the terminal to the next. Women in black hijabs spoke in hushed whispers to their impatient children, pushing them towards seating or out to the gates to pre-board their flight. Conversely, men stood about speaking quickly into cellular phones, conducting business as they studied the flight board. Some wore trendy business suits while others donned traditional kaftans with leather sandals. Aside from a few European passengers who appeared to be detouring through Cairo on their way to a connecting flight, there was no one in the terminal that matched their target.
"Negative so far," Jasmine reported to her Comm Unit. "It looks like business as usual."
"Check the gates," instructed the Tactical Supervisor on the other end of the Comm Unit. "It is possible that our target is in disguise."
"I've run the Profiler on just about every person in here. I don't have a match. Are we sure our intel is verified?"
"It's been affirmed," said the supervisor. "Nikita was not found in the hotel where she was pinged. Her last trace was outside of Cairo, less than Five Kilometers out. It is Alex's deduction that she will try to gain access to a flight to get out of the country. This is the likeliest access point."
Jasmine sighed heavily.
She lifted the binoculars and ran the profiler scan again over the ocean of faces standing in wait. Information poured through the data link system at Section's Communications Hub, revealing each person's identification and known aliases. A few came up as Persons of Interest, but none were revealed to be Nikita in disguise. Jasmine looked at her partner and handed him the binoculars, giving up the search.
"See if you can come up with anything different. I have to go to the bathroom," Jasmine announced.
The other agent nodded and resumed scanning the crowd.
Jasmine got up from her seat and made her way toward the restrooms. She ignored the curious looks of Arabic men talking on their phones as she walked past. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, feeling their stares raking over her appearance. She knew she appeared nothing like what was expected to be seen in the airport terminal. She stood out as an obvious tourist appearing very Asian and very mysterious dressed in all black. Section did not send out the Search Team with any specific instructions for them to blend in. The long black coat and long-sleeve crew neck shirt clung to her in the Egyptian heat. She was warned not to wear anything too heavy or expose too much skin as the sun would burn her quickly. The only thing she could complain about, aside from the parameters of the mission, was the uncomfortable necessity of the coat stealthily hiding her weapons and communication devices within its pockets. The team went straight through Security without being stopped courtesy of the Field Coordinator manipulating the airline's computer system. They were allowed into the terminal fully loaded with various guns and devices to eliminate their target.
Nikita.
Jasmine entered the restroom and counted the stalls. She settled on the fifth stall down, noting two were unoccupied but closed with the last handicapped stall occupied. The familiar sound of tape being pulled away echoed over the walls. Jasmine ducked into her chosen stall, preparing herself to use the toilet, ignoring her awareness of the business happening in the next stall.
She turned off her Comm Unit.
There was no reason Section should know exactly what she was doing in the restroom. Likely, this moment of disconnect would come into question during the debriefing, but she did not care. If asking for a moment of privacy to relieve oneself resulted in a demerit, she would just take the demerit. With much of her life already on display twenty-four hours, seven days a week, she was not interested in five minutes of her time taking care of nature's call being documented. She figured she should have been used to the constant intrusion, but the thought of everyone knowing how often she went to the bathroom still made her flesh crawl. She could only imagine how awful it was for Nikita and Michael under the rule of the old regime. They were required to have every action performed whether with one another or with a target recorded and analyzed for context. It was no wonder they appeared like stone statues, expressing no emotion or fear during their doomed missions.
"Nikita is Priority One now," said Alex during their mission briefing. She displayed a picture of Nikita along with her profile and known information. "She has elected to withdraw from Section and go rogue. Her new objective is to eliminate all heads of the Council and take down Section as a whole. She has classified information and a network of allies across the globe who may be willing to assist her. Listed here is a detail of all of her known contacts, friends, personal acquaintances, and family members. Each of these is a target that must be cleared."
Images of various members of Interpol and the CIA showed along with their names, contact information, and job title. Other images followed of men and women Nikita encountered over the years and continued to keep in contact with. Michael's image was displayed among those of high interest as a possible aid to Nikita's plan. Jasmine looked over to Michael as he sat motionless at the head of the briefing table. She could barely tell if he was breathing or if he was there at all from how he sat. He was as stiff as a statue as Alex went on with her presentation.
"Her last whereabouts were recorded just three hours ago. Our satellite surveillance pinged her locator bracelet here in this region of Egypt just outside of Cairo. It is a fair assumption that the target is looking for a fast and anonymous way of exiting the country to return to her home. A team will be assigned to do a complete sweep of the target's home while another will begin interviewing her contacts. A third team will be sent out to intercept the target before she reaches the airline and boards a plane."
Jasmine looked again at Michael, noting his continued blank expression. He might as well have been asleep during the briefing. He seemed not to register any of what Alex said, nor did he appear remotely concerned that he was one of the targets specifically to be interviewed after the briefing was closed. Jasmine always knew Michael was known widely for his poker face. Section taught him to hide his true feelings well even so much as to fool those closest to him. There was not one person in Section that could honestly say they knew him.
Not even Nikita, really.
It was a little easier to tell when something drew Nikita's notice or sparked an emotion. Her eyes told on her often even when her words denied the truth. With Michael, however, the mentioning of canceling Nikita did little to move him or change the way he sat staring into nothing. By the end of the meeting, she wasn't sure Michael even blinked in response.
Jasmine made sure to finish quickly and exit the stall leaving the toilet to flush on its own. She went to the sink and pushed the release button on the soap dispenser. She pressed the button several times, resulting in nothing to clean her hands. Jasmine went down two more sinks, testing their dispensers.
Still nothing.
The handicapped stall opened revealing a flight attendant in a navy blue uniform coming out and adjusting her skirt. The woman was tall with heavy black curls hiding her face. Jasmine watched as the woman tried the same soap dispenser on the far end. Jasmine moved to the last soap dispenser and pushed the button, The flight attendant continued to the other dispensers. The last sink allowed a dollop of soap into Jasmine's hand. Relieved, Jasmine quickly rubbed the soap onto her hands and pushed the lever on the faucet up with her wrist to rinse off the suds. The flight attendant noticed Jasmine's success and stood a few steps away, waiting. Jasmine quickly finished her wash and nodded to the flight attendant.
"All yours."
The flight attendant gave a pleasant smile in response then moved to the sink.
Jasmine smiled back. She started towards the exit when something suddenly caught her attention. It wasn't the silent exchange between herself and the flight attendant, nor was it the serious way in which the attendant looked once she noticed there was only one working dispenser. It was the attendant's piercing blue eyes that made Jasmine pause. Her eyes were so striking in the white fluorescence that they looked almost electric. Like they were full of laser energy. There was only one other person she could think that had those same intense eyes, the kind that made one stop and hold their breath.
"She's definitely seen too much," Darwin had said as they rested between training. "If I ever get to be in Section as long as she has, I'd probably look like that, too. Freaked out and ready to pop at any moment."
"I don't think she's gonna pop," said Claire, the other female in their recruit group who seemed far too young and naive to have done anything bad enough to land her in prison. Then again, their entire group, with the exclusion of Darwin, appeared they couldn't have done anything worse than getting a bad grade on their report card to have been sentenced to either life behind bars or death by the lethal injection. Darwin was special in that he likely didn't do anything horrible either, except probably run his mouth too much at the judge to cause him to be sentenced to confinement in hopes of shutting him up.
"She and the other guy are really serious," said Jasmine. "They kinda freak me out. At least the old guy held a smile while he stuck us all with tracker chips. Now I know how my poodle felt when I got her tagged."
"That other guy," Darwin started, waving off the matter already. "He's just freaked totally. You see how he was just staring at all of us? Like he could see straight through our souls? I don't like that. And I don't like him. He has no idea."
"I don't think you have an idea," said Claire defensively. "These guys are our trainers. They are here to teach us everything we need to know to survive whatever it is they are having us do. Show some respect."
Darwin made an expression that told Jasmine he was instantly on to Claire.
"Oooh, that hit a nerve." Darwin leaned over more towards Claire. "Tell me, which one are you partial to? The freaky-eyed woman, or the stale cracker dude?"
Claire grimaced, then pushed up her lower lip in defiance. She stood up and walked away from the conversation. Darwin settled back on to his cot, giggling at his victory.
Jasmine wondered also about Claire's reaction. It was vastly different from how she acted when it came time to get their chips installed. She didn't want it and nearly refused it until being persuaded by Walter. Jasmine could see Claire's reverence for the two trainers did not go as deeply as she put on. Girls like her were always thinking, always planning a strategy. She wasn't sure what it was that Claire was thinking of doing, but whatever it was, she was very aware of Nikita and Michael. Enough to consider them the highest threat to what she was planning. She was still thinking about Claire when Nikita stood before them to talk about close encounter combat. Her words were fated and hid nothing of what they would face in the field.
"All that will stand between you and your bed at night is the man standing in front of you," said Nikita rather solemnly. "Get past him, and you will live to fight another day."
"What if I can't get past him?" Claire asked.
Nikita turned to Claire and leveled her gaze. "If you can't get past the man… You die."
The powerful crystal orbs told Jasmine everything she needed to know about Nikita. Where Michael's eyes held nothing but a dark chasm of bleak despair, Nikita's eyes continued to hold out hope for them even though they were playing against the odds. It was her determined focus that brought them all together and made them believe they could survive their mission and return to headquarters battle tested and victorious. Jasmine looked over the flight attendant once more, feeling deja vu suddenly as she stood in the bathroom. Although the woman had black hair and looked nothing like Nikita, she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew her somehow.
It didn't take long for Michael to figure out how to use the hologram. Trent's instructions seemed confusing at first, but after studying the program, he was able to use the application. He smuggled the cameras from Surveillance then took the program to test at his home. The mission briefing earlier that afternoon sifted through his thoughts like a dream. The particulars barely resonated in his mind as he planned what he would do the second he was no longer needed primarily at Section. He explained his sudden need to leave as wanting to handle reconnaissance at another location only known to himself and Nikita. Although Alex's expression spoke of her suspicion, she did not contest and requested he report his findings to Field Command to factor into the case file constructed for the assignment.
"Of course," Michael responded before turning on his heels to leave The Perch.
The image of himself dressed in his traditional black suit appeared almost as real as if he were standing in the room. The digital eyes of the other Michael followed him as he moved around the room. The other Michael turned and faced him, maintaining the unnerving hollow expression. The image planted his feet and clasped his hands in front of himself in the same fashion as Michael always did.
If I'm not me anymore, then what am I?… An illusion…
Michael shuddered.
He understood immediately why others tended to shrink away from him when he turned his attention to them. The vacant stare was enough to be disarming and bracing. The computer rendering mimicked the stillness of his breathing and the silent repose of his demeanor. He began to wonder how it was that Nikita fought through such a stony representation and find him hidden within. Her determination to fight through his obvious resistance made him all the more awed at her strength.
Nikita was truly remarkable.
The hologram, although tweaked to become something more than just a projected image, was not anything new to Michael. Section commonly used holograms in many of their sequence training, scenario predictions, and Compliance reviews. Birkoff's alterations with the AI used for holograms improved the technology, allowing Section to further their infiltration operations without expending valuable personnel. At least, that was the reason everyone was told.
Michael suspected there was more to the research.
When Alexandra appeared at Section, he was further convinced of the reasons Madeline and Operations allowed Birkoff to continue his research. He always suspected Section of cloning operatives. There were too many suggestions of the practice both with mission assignments and several undocumented projects conducted by scientists on Level 8. He did not have authorization to explore his theories, but subconsciously he guessed Section was doing a bit more than preventing terrorism as they claimed. Nikita's assignment to infiltrate Dr. Chernov's experimental training facility and clinic excluded details of what Section's actual interests were with the scientist's findings. They knew Nikita would have never agreed to take on the mission if she were aware of what Section planned to do with the information she reported. As always, they only told her enough to galvanize her motives and make her compliant while ordering him to keep what he knew quiet and simply direct Nikita to complete her mission.
With most missions requiring endangering Nikita specifically, he detested the assignment and wanted nothing more than to recall her. However, he also knew in recalling Nikita, it would expose them further to Operations and Madeline, endangering them both, and placing another less qualified operative in her place. The mission would have failed, and he and Nikita would be canceled as a result of it.
He had no choice. He never had a choice.
The digital Michael stood like a mirror version of what was once who he was before. A shell of a human. Its program was completely independent of the Section's core systems and would use its peripheral applications to manipulate input to result in a realistic illusion. For anyone unaware of the ruse, the digital Michael would appear and sound as authentic as the real Michael. It could even pick up objects, according to Trent's notations, and use them convincingly if necessary.
Make sure all cameras are online before loading the program. That way, the hologram will be functional both visually and tangibly. No one will ever know the difference unless they try to touch you...
Michael looked down at his watch.
The next few sequences had to be flawless.
No margins for errors.
If he missed one detail, one nuance of intrigue, the whole operation would fail. Section and the Council would make certain he never saw his children again.
Nikita would be lost forever.
He would be forgotten at the bottom of the Seine River, or worse… stored in the lowest depths of a federal prison.
The illusion had to hold long enough to give him time to breach the secured files in Section's vaults and find out any information he could about Alexandra Shaw and the Genesis Project. He had heard murmurings about the secret initiative while eavesdropping on Operations and Madeline's conversations. In the beginning, it was in effort to find out what happened to Terry's child after she was canceled. It was as a favor more for David than it was for Nikita as he knew what had been done to the senior officer was also done to him at some point. The vacancy in David's eyes told him all that he needed to try and find a way to help him. Many other operatives at Section sired children, but had no idea where they were, or what happened to them once they were born. Some believed their children were still alive and fostered out to loving families like what happened with the operative in the Suba mission. Although the child became the liability and the father subsequently canceled for his treasonous actions, the word got around that Section could be fooled. Some clever revisions to profiles and undocumented agreements could produce a semblance of anonymity to the outside world where a child could thrive. However, in this scenario, a detachment had to be accepted as it was demonstrated by the child's kidnapping and leverage, any knowledge of a Section operative proved to be both dangerous and fatal.
But these were children created outside of Section's permission. This had nothing to do with Level 8. He suspected this heavily classified level was where Madeline exclusively conducted her experiments using the information gathered from various doctors and scientists including Dr. Chernov's research. When Nikita stumbled upon the level and discovered the lab within, the project was quickly dismantled and moved elsewhere. In the time it took for Nikita to go to his office to convince him of the strange appearance of children on Level 8 and for him to follow her upon her insistence, all evidence of the lab was gone. Nikita was understandably confused and frustrated, but there was little that Michael could do to console her. The fact that the lab was no longer there meant they were being watched even in the moment of their discovery, and any action on his part in trusting Nikita's word jeopardized his own findings and research.
He couldn't let that happen. Not when he was so close to finding out the truth.
Then suddenly, his attention had to be redirected to other matters. To his son, his wife, and then to Nikita herself. The idea of returning to the files kept secret in Section's main vaults wafted away in the same smoke that destroyed the Paris Section. Whatever had been on Level 8 was gone. He would have to start back over.
The emergence of Alex returned him to his questions concerning Level 8 and the goings on there. Madeline always had side projects. It would not have been beyond her dabbling a bit in artificial intelligence and cloning as she had both files at her reach. Birkoff's project further gave Section all the details needed to create a fully functioning and sentient being, controllable if given the correct parameters to work within. They could create the perfect operative if they chose to do so, and were indeed well on their way. Operations thought George was trying to steal the knowledge from preferred specialized operatives to inject into other genetically altered agents. This might have been the aim, but what could have also been the purpose for the neuroscrapes were to upload the knowledge into pseudo-humans that could both act and appear human but gain digital access to cybernetic systems. Section was claiming ground in the world's cyber wars. What better way of gaining supremacy than to insert their own human viral conduits into the target organization's populace?
Alex was Center's conduit, sent within their midst to discover their weaknesses, their hidden secrets, and their possible vulnerabilities all under the guise of assistance. Somehow, Alex was uploaded into the Section's systems through an outside channel bypassing the usual security protectors. Only someone with intimate knowledge of the Section's mainframe would be able to do such a thing. There were very few operatives that held this knowledge, and from what he could recall, the majority of those few were dead. The only way he could be sure of his hypothesis was for Quinn to report her findings. Although risky, he had little choice but to trust that Quinn would honor her word after helping her avoid cancellation by the Council. He reasoned a drop-in may be necessary to strengthen his partnership with the young Communications Officer.
Michael frowned at the thought.
A simple conversation with Katherine Quinn likely would not produce what he needed. She would have to be convinced of his honor and given something of value to her that would further commit her to his cause. Seducing her would not work, at least, not in the direction he would need her to go to gather the intel he wanted from Center. Confusing her emotions would likely jeopardize the mission rather than force it along. She would have to be convinced of Helmut's safety and return to keep her compliant. Furthermore, she would need to be assured no other actions would be taken against him, allowing her to freely approach and see after his care and recovery. For this, he would need to find the Interpol agent and secure him back to France where Quinn could monitor him comfortably.
Michael turned off the program, dissolving the hologram. Having a stand-in of himself would be enough, for now, to get him to the next objective. The hunt for Nikita would continue with him surveying the missions from the sidelines. Alex took it upon herself to head both assignments; finding Nikita, and assisting Section Two with locating their target, Cirrus.
"You're too close to the objective," Alex explained casually. "You should, instead, concentrate on the daily operations of the agency. As the director, you need to be comfortable with delegating to those under your command."
"I said I can handle finding Nikita—"
"As I know you can, but," Alex interrupted, "I think you shouldn't directly involve yourself with this matter as you are already considered a person of interest. It will look questionable to have you leading the search for your one-time-before lover and mother of your child. The Council may not agree with your tactics should you find her."
Alex closed down the hologram table as the dual S&R teams left to complete their final reviews and collect their mission schedules. They would be out to Transport within the hour, heading in opposite directions. Michael noticed Jasmine's Alpha Team was the one assigned to track down Nikita. He caught the troubled look on her face as she filed away from the table. He folded his arms to himself, a motion he did not always make as it revealed too much of his true thoughts. However, he felt he was already exposed like a pulsing nerve. His mind chorused objections, but he kept his lips closed tightly against the battling words. Instead, he pulled in a breath. Again, Alex gave him a look that appeared too much like Madeline's amused grin whenever she knew she had cornered him. He stopped himself from looking away.
"I only ask that she be brought in alive and unharmed," said Michael, keeping his tone steady.
Alex nodded. "She will be handled with kid gloves and given the respect of any high-ranking officer employed with Section."
"No. I don't want you to treat her like Section does the rest of us. I want her to be treated as who she is… Mr. Jones's daughter and the rightful leader of all of Section."
Nikita carefully removed the soapsuds from her hands. She knew that Jasmine was staring at her. She wondered if the mask glitched or if it was unnatural to make the young operative suddenly more aware of her. The troubling soap dispenser gave her a reason to keep her distance, but she knew it would look odd for her to not perform the same actions as the agent. If Jasmine didn't find soap in any of the dispensers, she shouldn't either.
"Excuse me, but… Do I know you from somewhere?"
Nikita stiffened slightly. The tone of Jasmine's voice said she was second-guessing her intuition. Something about Nikita made her believe she was familiar. Nikita stood and turned to Jasmine, displaying a commercial grin, and extended a hand.
"I don't believe so… Unless you've been on one of my flights. You may have seen me then," said Nikita, still smiling.
Jasmine stared long into Nikita's eyes, searching for some sort of recognition, but landed on nothing clear. She shook the extended hand.
"No. I don't fly commercially a lot," Jasmine said honestly. "Besides, I'm sure I would remember a face like yours."
Nikita was taken aback by the remark. She wasn't sure how to react. Flustered, Jasmine quickly retracted her statement and apologized for her rudeness.
"I don't mean that in a bad way," Jasmine continued, her ears reddening slightly with embarrassment. "I meant to say, I would have noticed someone like you… You know, because you're so pretty and all, but… Oh jeez. I must sound like a complete psycho now. I'm so sorry,"
Nikita granted another warm smile, excusing the operative's misspoken words. "It's fine. Don't sweat it. I get what you mean."
"I better get out of your way. I am sure you need to head to a flight."
Nikita nodded. "Yeah. Kinda don't wanna miss it. It's my ride home."
"Really? Where are you from? If you don't mind me asking, of course. You are not from around here."
Nikita released a controlled laugh. "Oh, no. I'm not. I'm from Connecticut… America."
"Oh! So am I," said Jasmine. "Well, not originally. My family immigrated from China and settled in San Francisco's Chinatown."
"It had to be a simple transition. Not much of a culture shock."
"You would think so," Jasmine laughed. "I found out quick China in America is very different from China in, well… China."
An uncomfortable pause lingered between them. Nikita maintained her pleasant smile and hoped that Jasmine would lose her nerve and return to her post with the rest of her team. Instead, the agent adjusted her stance, balancing her weight on her right foot and relaxing more into their conversation.
"How'd you manage to wind up way out here?"
Once more, Nikita gave Jasmine a curious look, testing the reasoning behind her question. As a flight attendant, she thought it obvious how she ended up at the airport, but she also knew the angle Jasmine was taking in her line of questioning.
"I took a re-route," Nikita explained, keeping her answer short.
"Why not fly out directly? I'm sure there were connecting flights back to America."
It was a throw-off. A question with an obvious answer to temporarily disarm the target and get them to trip over their lies if they were prepared to tell a lie. A follow-up question regarding the specific flight she was on would come next, followed by a question about her last flight. It was a simple tactic. One taught by Michael as a way of keeping a target off balance so that they couldn't follow chronologically. If someone were telling the truth, they would have no problem moving through the questions. Lies were harder to track and often had to follow a straight pattern from one detail to the next. Any deviation would cause a ripple effect of missed facts and unsure pauses, arousing further suspicion.
"I picked up a flight transfer from a friend," Nikita answered coolly. "I had no idea the transfer would bring me to Egypt, but, it did get me a full day ahead of my original return home. I'll be back in front of my television in time to catch up on the first season of Vikings."
Jasmine let out a huff. "You like that?"
A topic switch proved effective to get Jasmine off the trail of the flights.
"I don't so much like the show as much as I like the men on the show. Have you seen it?"
"No. Can't say that I have," Jasmine admitted. "I don't watch much television."
"Really? Why not?"
At this, Jasmine bristled visibly, unable to explain herself. Nikita smirked a little at Jasmine's inability to rebound effectively. This was a rookie tactic that she should have mastered by now being that she was now a Team Leader. If she were not going to tear down Section from its roots, she would have suggested Jasmine for retraining. Instead, she hoped the young operative could recover gracefully, but if not, she would leave the subject as it stood.
"My job keeps me on the move a lot. I'm returning from a business meeting with my colleague."
"Oh… Interesting."
Keep it short, Nikita reminded herself as she continued to study Jasmine.
Keep smiling. Don't look away from her... She's watching…
"I meet so many in business class. Maybe I'll see you and your colleague on my flight. I'll give you a complimentary drink on the house."
Jasmine considered the answer. "That would be great."
"Good, well, see you in the skies," said Nikita.
"Yeah." Jasmine turned towards the exit.
Nikita watched her as she started, stopped, then turned back to Nikita.
"Didn't mean to keep you long here. I promise I'm not a creep or anything. I just thought you looked like someone I knew."
"I get that a lot. I guess I just have one of those faces," said Nikita.
"Yeah. Except it wasn't your face that looked familiar to me… I don't know. It was something about your eyes…"
Jasmine allowed the thought to trail off before turning and throwing back a 'good to meet you farewell.
"Likewise," Nikita called after.
Jasmine disappeared around the divider at the entrance to the restroom. Nikita waited a moment more before turning to the mirror. She gave herself one last once over before noticing something missing.
The flight pin.
Nikita returned to the handicapped stall and pushed open the door. The young flight attendant she stole the uniform from, sat half naked in the corner of the stall next to the toilet shaking in fear. Her eyes widened as Nikita came closer.
"I really am sorry for all this," Nikita apologized. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to borrow you for a few hours until I can get home. Don't worry, you'll be found. They'll probably question you, but… Like I promised, you keep my secret and I won't tell yours."
Nikita held up a small makeup pouch with the flight attendant's initials stitched on the side. Inside the pouch, several vials of liquid heroin and a pill bottle of various opiates rested next to a pack of subcutaneous needles. The flight attendant gave Nikita a cross look from behind the strip of duct tape covering her mouth.
"You're a good kid. Don't waste your life on this stuff. It can kill ya in more ways than you think."
Nikita reached for the flight pin on the young woman's shirt collar and fixed it to her own similar styled button down shirt. She gave the attendant another once over, taking careful inventory of her attire to make sure she matched her as exact as possible before turning to leave the stall. She made sure to lock the door before scooting out underneath leaving the young woman duct taped next to the toilet.
She checked her watch.
One hour 'til boarding.
Nikita pulled in a breath and collected the flight attendant's carry-on luggage. She fixed the commercial smile on her face and left the restroom. Ahead, Jasmine reconvened with another black-clad agent presently scanning the crowd with a discreet pair of binoculars. Nikita deftly avoided the agent's probing gaze, slipping behind a wide cylinder column as he passed over her direction. The agent gave up his eyes to Jasmine who continued the watch. Nikita quickly moved into a surge of passengers moving towards a boarding gate. She followed behind a side group of flight attendants busily discussing their after-flight plans once they landed. The parade of light blue and yellow suits drifted from the passengers and down a hall leading to the pilot's lounge. Without saying a word, only smiling in agreement, one of the attendants held open the access door for her to follow them inside.
Jasmine returned to her station on the bench in the middle of the terminal. The young recruit graduated a few weeks before being assigned to the detail. He was wiry and skittish, with talon-like fingers and well-groomed nails. His features were similar to an image of Ichabod Crane, but younger and without the exaggerated nose. She thought he was called Jasper, but she couldn't say it was his real name. Jasmine didn't pay much attention to the names of the operatives she would need to fill out her team. She only looked at the skills and qualifications needed to complete the assignment successfully. Jasper was a tracker, which made him perfect for the mission. However, his wraith-like frame made him impossible to ignore or blend into any background. If Nikita were looking out for Section operatives tailing her, she would easily spot the rake with a quick scan of the crowd.
Jasmine looked at the people standing in line at the boarding gate. Even though the women wore coverings over their faces, the facial recognition program removed their veils, revealing their faces and uncovering their identities. She drifted over the crowd until she came to a young man seated with his back to her. He was hunched over his laptop like the other men working on the go. The young man wore a deep blue jean jacket over a dark gray hoodie. He was fit, like an athlete. She would have taken him as a basketball player or possibly soccer, except for his attire and demeanor. His gloved hand moved to a black backpack next to him and pulled out a cell phone. Jasmine zoomed into the phone to view the screen.
"What the…" Jasmine breathed out as she peered through the binoculars.
The screen on the cell phone was different than normal screens. Instead of the usual icons and apps dotting the mirror glass surface of the phone, lines of green code trailed up and down the face of the phone. The mix of characters created a digital language that instructed something to act outside of its normal sequencing. Jasmine recognized it as a jailbreak code normally used to hack into security and surveillance systems. The young man connected the phone to the laptop and continued to work quickly. His body blocked her view of what he was doing on the screen, but she could already assume what the young man was doing.
Jasmine nudged Jasper. "Head to the airport's security room. I think I have something."
"What do you see?" asked Jasper in a voice deeper than expected.
"Something is not quite right."
"Is it our target?"
"No," said Jasmine, keeping her sights focused on the young man.
She watched as he finished what he was doing and sat for a moment looking out into the crowd.
"Hurry," said Jasmine, pushing Jasper off the bench with her left hand. "I wanna know what this guy was doing."
Jasper frowned before moving through the crowd towards the airport's secured back halls. Jasmine sharpened the focus. The young man breathed out heavily and then turned to the side, exposing his face in profile. Jasmine pulled in a gasp.
"No way!"
