Pick-Up Location,
Heathrow Airport"Yeah thanks mate" Tom snapped his mobile closed and replaced it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He yawned deeply, rubbing his face vigorously as he leaned back in the car seat.
"Late night?" Zoë mused, smiling as she playfully ruffled the back of Tom's hair. He batted the hand away and sighed, closing his eyes as he leant against the headrest.
She sat and watched Quinn in silence; he was not usually one to let ill health disturb his work but Zoë knew something was wrong. If she pressed the question of well being on Tom, he would out-wardly deny any feelings of pestilence.
"Something like that" was Tom's only reply, taking to watching the location for their co-workers signal to enter the building.
Silence filled the car; neither of the pair uttered a sound to shatter the stillness. Zoë had noted a change in his breathing; it had become more concentrated as if Tom were trying to prevent himself from vomiting. She watched the entrance to the Check-in desks, scrutinizing every face, each passing body. Time ticked past for what seemed to be hours but only manifested itself into minutes, the uncomfortable feeling lingering in the air made Zoë feel somewhat on edge. The sharp trill of Tom's mobile cracked the silence like a gunshot, the message 'Private Number' flashing up on the screen.
"Right" Tom spoke the single word into the phone, disconnected the call and turned to Zoë "The planes' landed, we're on". With this, Tom clicked the car door open and stepped out into the car park.
Turning back to lock the door, Tom flinched as he felt a sharp pain in his right side; his vision swam briefly and he placed a hand atop the car to steady himself. Shaking off the moment and regaining his equilibrium, he placed the key into the lock and turned it firmly to the right. Sighing deeply helped to eliminate the remainder of the pain as Tom pushed himself away from the car.
"What's wrong Tom?" Zoë enquired, her concerned tone caused Tom to stop as she placed a hand atop his arm.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it" he shook the hand gently from his arm as he stepped through the slowly revolving door leading into the Arrivals department.
The constant drone of voices and machinery coursed through Tom's head; he mentally shook himself, trying desperately to clear his mind. Wandering towards the main lounge, both agents cast glances around the glass-fronted offices above them. Zoë's gaze fell upon a booth directly above her, the telltale signs of surveillance equipment only just visible to the trained eye reflecting in the glass.
"The plane landed at 11:50, Danny says that the first of the passengers are due from baggage reclaim at 12:20" Tom checked his watch and ran a hand through his hair.
Zoë sighed outwardly and began to wonder towards the padded benches that lined the Arrival's lounge. Resigned to waiting, Tom followed her; silently welcoming the chance to sit back down, the pain in his side had begun to throb dully. The pair sat in silence, each glancing up intermittently at the arrivals board.
"Tom" Zoë touched Quinn's arm, directing his gaze towards the steady stream of bodies appearing through the gate. Both agents rose in unison, taking their predetermined positions around the lounge.
Traveller after holidaymaker passed before them, many pulling large suitcases and sporting burnt crimson complexions. Zoë shifted her position from beside the small café eatery, placing the half empty cup of coffee on the table in front of her. Casting a sly glance towards the glass booth in which Danny was concealed as words filled her earpiece.
"Cream jacket, pink scarf, dark glasses, medium navy blue suitcase" Zoë fixed her gaze on the gate as she listened to the information.
The figure in question emerged from the gate, both agents scrutinizing her appearance.
"Now Zoë" Tom's voice rippled through the airwaves.
Taking her cue, Zoë moved forward towards the barrier trying to catch the gaze of the target. The figure before her pushed away the sunglasses from her face, revealing piercing blue eyes. Recalling the code words she had read in the lift at HQ, she smiled as preceded to address the target.
"Afternoon Katie; how was the trip?" Zoë waited with baited breath for the pre-arranged answer.
The second women simply smiled, placing her Oakley sunglasses into the top right hand pocket of her jacket.
"Too much vodka and not enough sleep" She smiled as Zoë took hold of the suitcase.
Upon hearing the key words, Danny's voice again filled Tom's ears.
"Target confirmed" were the only words he heard; following both females out towards the glass fronted doors.
Stepping out into the sunshine, Tom relieved Zoë of the suitcase and led the way back through the maze of cars.
"No flies, location clear" Danny's voice crackled over the airwaves once more making Quinn jump slightly, his thoughts had been somewhere else.
"Secure the location and make sure all the equipment gets back this time" The only reply Tom heard was a hearty laugh.
The last mission that B Section had completed required an amazing backlog of kit. Tracking systems, laptops and voice ident kits were checked out but were never returned. According to Tom, during the last assignment, the equipment had been destroyed in the retreat.
The truth of the matter was that the whole consignment had lost the battle against a Challenger II Series tank. Needless to say Colin was not amused and Harry was in a word, livid.
Smiling to himself, Tom recalled the look of shock horror on Harry's face when he had informed the departmental head that kit to the tune £2.3 million was never coming home again. Sighting the vehicle, Tom inserted the key into the lock of the boot, feeling the vibration of the mechanism click through his fingers. The boot door swung upwards, a ray of dazzling light reflecting from the paintwork. Shielded by the door, Tom cringed again; the dull throb intensifying to a sharp stab. Careful to lift with his left arm, Tom placed the case gingerly into the car.
"Come on Tom, I want to hit the shops on the way back" Zoë joked, hoping to rouse him from his supposed bad mood.
Tom eyes were watering, even as a hardened Spook; he didn't think he could handle pain like this. He swiftly wiped the moisture from his face with the back of hand and slammed the boot of the car closed. He pulled in a sharp breath and clicked open the drivers door.
A/N: That's it kiddies, tell what ya think :) Feedback is always sweet!