Chapter 1
Aboard The Eternity
I got out (reluctantly, I must admit) of the green Escalade I was riding in and gazed at my surroundings. The runway of the private airport was paved and painted with wide yellow dashes along the center. Torches lined the sides of the large area. It kind of reminded me of a Hawaiian luau I had been to when I was eight…except this was top secret…and aviator-style-ish…
An Arabic guy in a big black suit with big black sunglasses and a big black mustache pointed his finger towards the west of the runway. There was a stretch of pavement I hadn't noticed before, and on it sat a rusty orange plane with chipped blue paint on the side. I walked over, figuring since the Arabic guy (who's name was William, I found out later) and I were the only ones supposedly here, I had a few minutes since the alleged "take-off". On the side it said:
The Eternity: May the Wings of Heaven Bless Her.
I couldn't believe it! No frickin' way…is THIS the so-called "private jet" I was riding in? All the way to DUBLIN, IRELAND?! This thing was a bucket of bolts and rust at the very most. I peered into the cockpit and the passenger seat. They both had brown leather seats, which were ripped and torn at the seams, with cigarette burns all over. These seats had for sure seen better days. And this wasn't one of them, I thought. I sighed. For the first time in a very, very long time I actually regretted going on a mission. The only other time I regretted a mission was that one time when I was fencing to the death on Big Ben…good times.
The sound of propellers and an engine igniting broke my short reverie. An old woman was sitting in the cockpit. She had really light brown eyes, almost gold, and short, white, wispy hair, mostly covered up by a navy blue, tight-fitting hat. She was wearing a tan jacket and a checkered green and red scarf; rose-tinted flight goggles sat on top of her head. She pulled them down over her eyes and told me to hop in.
"Well, let's get this over with." I muttered to no one in particular.
"Hello, dearie! My name is Evelyn. Evelyn Ampleshire. But you can call me Blue Jay. Nearly everybody does. I presume you must be…," she looked down at a crumpled piece of paper, "Amalia Greenwich?"
"Yes. That is me." I replied solemnly.
"Well, then we mustn't waste time dawdling, mustn't we?"
I didn't answer, but instead grabbed the green hat and blue-tinted goggles she handed me and strapped them on. I climbed into my dilapidated passenger seat just as the old woman gave a wild yell. I looked around frantically. Have we been found out? What's happening? I thought. Suddenly, I felt the plane lift a tiny bit off the ground. "Prepare for takeoff!" Mrs. Ampleshire cried.
Great. I'm stuck in a rusty piece of crap with a crazy old lady for four hours, I thought at we jetted off into the sky toward (hopefully) Dublin, Ireland.
Sorry about how short this is. The next few chapters might be a bit short. Sorry in advance. BUT KEEP REVIEWING BY ALL MEANS! Buahaha.