Chapter 3: In the air

The brunette watched sideways at the man seated near the window. She had not missed the regular glances he greeted her with from time to time, and the extra time he had taken to get out of his seat for the toilets while she was waiting, trying to ignore his flirtatious smile. For one, it was a little early in the morning for seduction games. Second, Emily was already having a hard time keeping the tears at bay without having to deal with her neighbor as well. She frowned as she brushed a hand through her hair and inadvertently touched the bruised skin at the base of her scalp. In the restrooms of Dulles International Airport, she had managed to stop the blood flow and cover the red and swollen cut with a little powder – which she always kept in her purse, for occasions like this. But there was unfortunately no make up to cover the hollowness in her eyes or the paleness of her cheeks.

She tried to fight off the memories from the night before but they kept coming back, growing in presence and realism. The last word the girl had said echoed through her brain, this word she had never heard, at least not directed at her. Then the man had moved the kitchen knife with shaking hands, cutting the throat of the young woman, only just out of her teenage years and already on her way to the cemetery. Emily had watched helplessly as she fell onto the ground, blood pouring from her open wound. The lack of reaction had told Emily that the girl was dead on impact, or had passed out, which was probably for the best. The FBI agent she was had not had the time to draw her gun, not even to catch the girl before her head collided with the wooden floor. Emily grimaced as she remembered the impact of the glass on her head. The man obviously hadn't wanted to kill her, or he would have gone straight for the knife. And, if Emily hadn't been so stubborn to grab his feet and make him fall to the ground, he would probably have gotten away unharmed.

"Coffee?" The brunette flinched at the sound of a caring voice just above her head, and she tried to smile politely as the stewardess poured her a cup of coffee. She would need that if she wanted to have her mind clear. Looking at her wrist watch, Emily realized that she had not slept for over 28 hours, not counting the ten minutes nap she had taken in the jet, on their way back from Florida.

Soon, the captain announced that the plane would land within twenty minutes, and the brunette closed her eyes, trying to focus on what was to come. On the job she had to do. The man she had to hunt down.