Allison woke up the next morning, breathing extremely heavily. Joe put a hand on her shoulder, then quickly turned over and pressed the snooze button on the alarm clock, then going back to sleep. She stared at him, and slowly got out of bed, walking over to the bathroom, and slowly taking off her clothes and slipping into the shower.
As she lathered the shampoo in her hair, she thought about the mission. Anything could happen. Anything could happen to anyone. But it was catching him, or the police rather, being the main thing. She wanted to go to Hollywood, no doubt, but for recreational reasons.
Not to find a rapist.
A pool of water formed at her feet when she stepped out of the shower. Allison cocked her head to the side and splashed the puddle with her toes, and grabbed her robe, slowly putting it on and wrapping it tightly against her slim body.
At the breakfast table, Ariel and Bridgette were begging Allison not to go. But what was she supposed to say? She shook her head and promised them all gifts. Which she could hopefully just pick up at the airport or whatever.
"Okay guys, it's noon now, so mommy's gotta get ready, okay? You two help Daddy clean up."
"You heard Captain Comando, let's clean up the table." Joe said playfully, helping Bridgette carry the plates over to the sink.
Allison walked over to her bedroom, and quickly got dressed. A basic dress pants and blouse should work. After all, it was just a plane flight. She was trying her hardest not to think of Dimitri, but he was to much of a son of a bitch to not be thinking about.
She dragged the silver and blue suitcase out the door, and kissed the tops of her children's heads, and looked at Joe.
"Be careful," Joe said softly, wrapping his muscular arms around her.
"I will don't worry. You, Mister, watch out after the kids, alright?" Allison hissed, pulling herself closer to him. She kissed his lips softly, and he pulled her back and held the kiss longer, running his hand up and down her back. She smiled, and slide into her car, quickly driving away.
While waiting for Manuel at the terminal, she popped a few Advil. Her headache got worse as minutes passed. She glanced down at her watch. It was only one twenty-five. Why did it feel like she'd been waiting for so long? Her heart slowed down as Randy pulled up in front of her, and Manuel, with his suitcase, hopped out of the car.
"About time." Allison laughed, biting on her nail.
"Be quiet, Randy got lost." Manuel got lost.
"How do you get lost on the way to the airport?" She asked, looking at Randy and Manuel oddly.
"Okay, I packed before we left."
She watched as Randy drove away, and began to walk into the terminal. They got their boarding passes as quick as possible, and began to walk towards their gate.
"So Allison, you nervous?"
"Somewhat. Why? Are you?" She asked right back at him, cocking her head to the side a bit.
"Somewhat. But are you going to be okay?"
She knew what he was talking about. Her body's reflexes to her medium "powers," aren't exactly.. ..delightful. She usually vomits, faints, or sometimes even has severe seizures. It was obvious her body didn't appriciate her at all.
As she boarded the plane, her stomach started to tie in a knot. Allison took a deep breath and plopped down into her seat, right nest to the window. Manuel smiled and sat next to her, laying his bead back, and quickly falling asleep.
She sighed as she looked out the window, watching the plane start to move on the runway. Before she knew it, the ground was farther and farther away from her. She took a deep breath; and she, too, rest her head back, and fell asleep.
An hour an seventeen minutes later, her ears popped furiously. It was as if somebody was shooting a gun right into her ear. The popping of her ears was rather mercurial; stopping for a second, and then starting up again. She got annoyed, and began to chew some gum.
Allison suddenly didn't feel good. She got up to go hurl in the bathroom, but the flight attendant threw her a barf bag instead, spitting her own gum in it first. She sent Allison a fake smile, and perkishly walked away.
"Stupid bitch." She said, when the flight attendant walked away.
"You can say that again," Manuel laughed, rolling his eyes.
"Tell me when she's coming back." Allison said firmly.
"What?"
"Just do it!" She hissed.
Allison chewed a few pieces of gum in her mouth. As she quickly chewed the gum, she turned the bag inside-out., being careful not to touch the skank's gum. She smothered the gum on the other side of the bag, and waited for Manuel's signal.
"She's coming.."
She stood up and chucked the bag at the girl's head, and watched her twitch, and scream, trying to get the bag out of her hair. Allison grabbed her bag, and Manuel's hand, and shoved through the people and ran off the plane and out of the gate.
"Wow, Allison, you sure do love revenge," Manuel teased, pushing her lightly.
"What can I say, I'm a bitch!" She laughed, walking towards the terminal exit. As she adjusted the strap on her bag, a black Lincoln sedan pulled up in front of them. Manuel nodded, and the driver took their bags and put them in the trunk.
"Yeah, that's our ride." Manuel said, smiling.
"Yippdide doo," she said hopping in.
Manuel and Allison had connecting rooms. You know, for easy communication; just in case something happened. She twisted the doorknob slowly and opened the door to his room. She looked over at him and leaned on the door frame, observing his perceise actions as he opened the suitcase.
"What's in the suitcase?"
"A few things you'll need for this mission."
Manuel pulled out a bade, gold and brand new; and it had her name printed on it. ALLISON DUBOIS: DISTRICT ATTORNEY ASSISTANT. She looked at it and smiled, clipping it to her belt.
"It's this serious?" She laughed.
"Pretty much. Hip, thigh, or shoulder?" He asked. He seemed serious with both his answer and the question he just asked. She was extremley confused.
"What?"
"Hip? Thigh? Or shoulder?" He -asked slowly.
"Thigh?"
"Left or right?"
Gun holster.
"Left."
Manuel handed her a left-handed thigh holster. She rest her leg on the edge of the bed, and buckled it on, adjusting the straps as she did so. Allison didn't expect all this; she can't see every action in the world. A badge, a holster, and probably a gun to go with it.
"Have you shot a gun before?"
Allison nodded gently and slowly.
"Then this should work," he said firmly, handing her a semi-auto .357; with a nice silver coating. She held it for a second, then holstered it. Allison quickly un-holstered it combativley, and practiced aiming. She holstered it back quickly, and looked over to Manuel. He took a deep breath, and so did she.
"Here's four clips," he said, handing her a magazine belt with four of the size slots filled up.
"I didn't know that one man could be so god damn lethal," Allison said, leaning on the wall. Or was it more than one..?
"He has a time of five. Pasha, Helga, Patrice, Alexander, and Dimitri himself."
"Is there anything I should know about them in particular?"
"Pasha's the sniper."
"But he sucks ass," they both said, chuckling after.
"The rest of them are good as SWAT, aren't they," Allison asked nervously, "But I sure do hope not.."
"Not even close. But they're good."
"Are we going to have backup?"
"Two from the CTU-CIA unit."
"Good," she said, letting out her breath. She was worried for a moment there.
"We have to do this, Allison. We have no other choice."
"I know Manuel, I know."
Without further conversation, Allison went back into her room, quietly shutting the door behind her softly. She took a deep breath, and walked over to the bed stand, unbuckling her holster and setting it next to the alarm clock. But when she took off the badge, she looked at it for a moment. She felt honored, and important. Allison sat on the edge of the bed, and took a deep breath..
..she knew that there was a fifty-fifty chance of her getting killed.
