A/N:I love you guys so very, very much. Just sayin'.
Thanks, Ninkita for fixing my fumbles!
With the elephant in the room finally dispatched and disposed of, the mood between them lightened considerably. The rest of Sunday disappeared in a blur of activity. After breakfast, Masen walked Bella through more fighting drills, showing her how easily a person, even a slighter, weaker person, could disable the strongest grip. The mental and physical focus left her feeling sweaty and headachey again, but also strangely adrenalized. The saying, 'knowledge is power' had never rung more true.
Masen came and went throughout the day, occasionally sending Bella new text or e-mail instructions. It was a relief to escape the apartment and drive up to the gun range for more shooting practice that evening, but by the time the ammo was spent, she was physically and mentally tapped out. For the second night in a row, Bella did not return home until after dark. Even with the escalating anticipation of their flight the next day, Bella fell asleep quickly that night.
When she woke up on Monday morning, she was all alone. Agent Masen's tendency to disappear without a trace was becoming so commonplace that she was unfazed by his absence. However, that morning was different. He had left her a note.
Your name is Abigail Swanson. You are a college student returning home to Seattle from a sightseeing trip to our nation's capital. Dress casually and comfortably. Pack a bag with Jacob's contributions and some clothes you don't mind getting rid of. A taxi will collect you at 10:15. Leave all keys and personal identification on the counter. Mahardy will take care of car/apartment/etc.
Upon arrival at SEA, proceed to the Baggage Assistance Counter. They are holding a garment bag and small suitcase for you. Change in a bathroom. Hair and makeup: professional. Think 'executive assistant'.
Pack everything into the suitcase and wait for your ride outside the baggage claim area. Have a safe flight.
-M
P.S. I don't have to tell you to destroy this note, do I? It will not self destruct. . . You have to do that part. See you soon.
Bella felt safe rolling her eyes without him there. On her bedside table beside the note was a small beige backpack/purse and her itinerary. She unbuckled the bag and looked inside. She found a wallet with cash, bank cards and Washington State driver's license in the name of Abigail Anne Swanson, pink lip-gloss, folding brush, scrunchie blue hair tie, Altoids, iPhone with a green and blue swirled case, earbuds, sun glasses, travel-size sunscreen, hand sanitizer, a travel pack of maxi pads, a souvenir Washington Monument and crumpled receipts from fast food restaurants and local attractions all dated within the last seven days. He was so thorough, it was dizzying.
Looking at the clock she had plenty of time to get ready. Bella decided to devote her final three hours to being completely, utterly normal. This was bound to be her last taste of sanity for who knew how long.
She took a short jog around the block to loosen up her sore muscles, showered, exfoliated (per the instructions of the exuberant aesthetician), pulled her damp hair into a ponytail and took her own identity for a final, nostalgic drive around Silver Spring. She bought breakfast and coffee to-go at her favorite diner and drove along Beach Drive until she found a secluded spot. She sat in the grass, ate her breakfast, then scattered the crumbs in Rock Creek and watched as the fragments were carried down-stream.
Bella sat and lost herself in the hypnotic motion of the water until the mid-morning sun became too warm, then she headed back to her apartment. She packed a medium-sized duffel bag with everything she was instructed to bring, read the note one more time, then tore it into tiny shreds and flushed it down the toilet. She looked around for her mission folder that contained all the photos of the missing girls and her notes. She wanted to keep her mind busy as she waited for her ride, but just like her partner, the folder was nowhere to be found.
A few minutes past the appointed time, a yellow taxi pulled up in front of the building. Bella took one last look around at the tiny space that had been her home for the last few months, set her keys beside her wallet and cell phone on the counter, and said goodbye in a whisper. She locked the door and pulled it closed behind her. Carrying nothing but the cute backpack and a bag containing the tools for her imminent transformation, Bella left her real life behind.
The flight to Seattle was so uneventful that Bella felt like there was something wrong. She was seated next to a chatty real estate agent named Jason who was returning from a visit with his sister and her children. Bella had visited many of the tourist attractions upon her arrival in DC, so she had no problem sharing enthusiastic tales of sightseeing with him. The only awkward moment came as they taxied into the terminal when he invited her out for drinks that evening to celebrate their safe landing. Bella stumbled through a polite refusal, blushing the entire time. It had felt so good to talk with another human being about casual, light hearted topics. She realized a little too late that after sitting beside her for the better part of six hours, he had formed an attachment to her.
Jason looked crestfallen but plucked up his courage enough to give her his business card, just in case she changed her mind about that drink or was ever in the market to buy a place. She pocketed the card and offered a polite smile and best wishes as he gathered his bags and disembarked. She waited until the cabin was almost empty before squeezing in front of a laughing, sunburned couple and shuffling to the exit.
At the baggage claim, she snagged her bag from the carousel, then got in line at the Baggage Assistance Counter. The line was pretty long. She kept her mind occupied with people watching. It was staggering how many travelers were hurrying about the bustling international airport. You could get lost in the crowd and disappear so easily. It was a tempting thought. How long would it take Agent Masen to track her down? Less than a day, she was sure of that. When it was her turn at last, she showed her ID and took possession of a matching designer garment bag and rolling suitcase. The suitcase weighed next to nothing so she assumed it was empty or close to it.
Bella went to the closest bathroom and shut herself into the handicap stall. Moving as quickly as she could, she stripped down to her underwear and opened the garment bag. Inside she found a stylish gray suit and mauve blouse. The suitcase held nylons, a pair of taupe pumps and a Coach purse. Out of curiosity, she looked inside and found accessories to match the outfit. Wallet (Abigail Anne Swanson was now three years older), smartphone, perfume, jewelry, gold hairclip, rings and a watch. Bella hastily donned the rest of her disguise, set aside her hair and makeup bags, transferred the remaining contents of her duffle bag to the suitcase, folded the bag itself flat and stuffed that in, too.
Other travelers hurried in and out of the bathroom as she worked, each of them focused on getting on with their lives and away from the chaotic environment of the airport. Feeling guilty for monopolizing the handicap stall for so long, Bella dragged everything out to the sinks and started her hair and makeup. Masen had told her to keep it professional. With the 'executive assistant' idea in mind, Bella opted for a neutral color palette and gathered her hair into a simple, low tail with the gold clip. Once she was satisfied with her hair, she turned to her makeup kit.
Ten minutes later, Bella took a step back and looked over her reflection. She looked so sophisticated that she hardly recognized herself. There were butterflies in her stomach and her mouth and throat were parched.
She smoothed her hands over her skirt, slung her empty garment bag over one shoulder and wheeled the now-heavy suitcase out through the baggage claim area to the sidewalk. It took her several moments to realize the black-suited man holding the sign reading 'Swanson' was waiting for her. She was mortified that she had forgotten her cover so quickly and was relieved that Masen had chosen a last name that was sure to catch her eye no matter what her mental state.
Bella took a steadying breath and forced herself to smile. She tried to look relieved but still poised and controlled, the way any professional would look upon finding their ride after a long cross-country trip. As she approached the driver she gave him a small wave and made eye contact. He greeted her by name, opened the back door of the black sedan and took her luggage.
Bella's heart almost stopped when she looked inside. The master of disguise had managed to shock her once again. Masen sat in the spacious back seat wearing a dark suit over a black shirt. His tie was muted grays and greens, he had cufflinks at his wrists, manicured fingernails and a very expensive looking watch. His hair was shorter and his jaw was completely smooth. Most startling of all, he was wearing glasses this time. . . and contacts.
Brilliant green eyes looked up at her over the rim of his glasses. He raised one carefully groomed eyebrow and said, "Ah, good. Ms. Swanson. . . I was afraid you had decided not to join us."
Bella swallowed her trepidation and slid into the car, placing her purse on the seat between them. "You know how air travel is these days. Lines, lines and more lines."
"That is precisely why I avoid flying commercial airlines," he stated in a bored tone, tapping away on his phone screen. Without looking up he signaled the driver to go. "Ms. Swanson, why don't you pull up my calendar and see what you can do about my schedule tomorrow. It's a mess. I would rather not be sitting in rush hour traffic if it can be helped."
It took her almost a second to catch on. Bella fumbled in the unfamiliar purse for the like-new smart phone she had seen earlier. She swiped the screen to unlock it and had to fight a smile. There was one alert - a recent text.
~Glad you made it.~
With her lower lip trapped between her teeth she replied. ~Nice glasses.~
Out of the corner of her eye she was certain she saw his lip twitch.
A/N: Oh, yes. Green eyes AND glasses.