The next day Irina finished packing her bag, she started the night before when they had gotten back to Lola's apartment. And now she was in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal and Lola's laptop.
Lola herself shuffled in, she pushed her hair back with one hand and reached for the coffee pot with the other. She poured herself a mug and turned around to face Irina.
She squinted at her and lowered the mug away from her mouth and mumbled, "Is that my mac?"
"Yeah," Irina said and continued typing.
Lola shrugged and asked, "You make any food?" She tightened her bathrobe, "What you doing anyway?"
"No, and nothing much," Irina answered. Lola leaned over the kitchen island, her eyes widened.
"Hey, that better not be what I think it is," she said warningly. Irina didn't say anything. "I don't care who your contact is, they could be the best in the business but that doesn't mean you can chat to them on some secret dark web."
"Are you done?" Irina asked patiently, "You're the one who works in tech, don't tell me you've never done anything you shouldn't have." Lola spluttered. "I'm checking up on some things and some people, just to see if they're behaving," Irina said and then took another spoonful.
"Okay, fine but don't leave any traces that someone would track," Lola said before opening a cupboard and rummaging around for some flour, sugar and baking powder. She put it the counter and then opened the fridge. Lola took out milk, eggs and butter, and then began setting up.
Irina was halfway through her cereal and had finished scrubbing her digital fingerprints from Lola's laptop. She lowered the lid after hearing the clutter that was going on around her, she scanned the counter and had a terrible nagging feeling in her stomach. "Lola.." she said, "what are you making?"
Lola grinned from where she was standing, her hand continually whisking the contents of the large mixing bowl. "Pancakes," she said brightly.
"Oh no," Irina said, with a crestfallen look on her face, her worst suspicions were confirmed. Lola wasn't exactly a bad cook or baker altogether but when it specifically came to pancakes she could never get it right and every time it ended with a disaster. And Lola was still in denial.
"What? It'll be fine. I swear," she said, repeating what she had said a few months back. "I saw your bag over there and thought 'you know what, Irina might appreciate a nice parting gift of my carb filled goodness', but no you don't. Well, you're gonna eat anyway!" Lola dragged the cereal bowl away from her and put it in the sink.
Irina rolled her eyes but stayed put anyway. She logged into her Netflix account as she said, "Yeah, about that, I was going to tell you this morning. I'm going to head out soon, and report back to the base here."
Turning the stove on Lola said, "Yeah, that's fine, you idiot. I know you only stay for a little while because the super secret spy thing with you being out in the field all the time." Lola turned back to the stove and started pouring in the batter.
Irina smiled and poured herself some coffee before going back into Lola's laptop. She pulled up an old episode of Grey's Anatomy, turned the laptop around and upped the volume.
Lola gasped and said "Yes! This is why you're the best." She grinned and carried on making pancakes.
By the time the episode ended Lola had made a batch of oddly shaped, some raw and some over cooked, pancakes. At this point Irina had eaten a few of the more edible ones and collected her duffle bag from her room and put it on the stool beside her.
They were both dressed now, Irina in standard issue navy long sleeved shirt and black cargo pants, and Lola in civilian clothing, blue jeans and a thin sweater.
Lola took two water bottles from the cupboard and put then in Irina's bag. She then closed plastic food containers, the first held some pancakes on some baking parchment, and the second had a simple lunch, sandwich and some extras. Lola went over to Irina who was double checking some things and pushed the containers into her field of vision.
"Here," Lola said, "take these with you."
Irina replied with, "Lola.."
"Just take them, otherwise you'll have to eat the crap they have at the cafeteria."
The cafeteria wasn't actually that bad but Irina took the boxes and said, "Thanks, it means a lot."
"Yeah, it's nothing. Hurry up before you're late. You need me to take you?" Lola asked as she picked up a tea towel to finish drying up.
She shook her head, "No, I called for a taxi." Irina put the containers away into her bag, she stepped forward to hug Lola and said, "Thanks for everything, I'll see you soon."
Lola returned the sentiment, "Yeah, and stay safe."
Irina was nearly out the door and called out, "Bye!" Lola waved her tea towel back.
Irina shut the door and made her way to outside the apartments, and then leaned against the brick wall: waiting.
The taxi arrived a few minutes later, she climbed in and put her bag down next to her. As she pulled on her seatbelt the driver asked, "Where to, sweetheart?"
She gave the address for the Vancouver base, he raised his eyebrows but only said, "All right."
The driver pulled off the side of the road and turned up the low background music, the radio was playing some pop song that she was vaguely familiar with. Lola probably would have known and sung along if she were there.
Irina settled in her seat and stared outside the window to her right. She kept a constant eye on the driver, but it still somewhat drowned out as she watched the people and the buildings pass by. The song changed to a slower ballad.
They stopped at traffic lights a few minutes later and Irina looked on a family that were hanging out on the other side of the glass. A mother in her 30s was handing her toddler a small ice cream and then quickly took out a napkin from her jean pocket and dabbed the mouth of her other young child. The mother looked tired, but in a normal civilian way, where she would never have to worry about her children being used as targets by her enemies for emotional extortion. Or worrying about danger towards them.
The thought passed as the lights turned to green and the car set off again.
She ran a hand through her hair as her gaze flickered to the driver and his environment. There was a rosary hanging on the rear view mirror and a few empty crumpled water bottles around the cup holders. He was humming along to the song now, clearly tired but he it didn't put a damper on his mood. His light persona wasn't a mask, she studied him for a moment and saw that he was genuinely untroubled.
He kept on driving until they reached the turning circle outside of the building. She gave him the money for the ride as they exchanged pleasantries. Irina got out of the car and slung her bag over her shoulder, taking care over the food inside.
She stepped through the automatic doors and immediately there was the assistant from earlier there to greet her. Emma, if Irina's memory was correct, and it was.
"Good morning, Agent Surikova," Emma said, "If you would show him your badge, please." She gestured to the guard, who was in reality a Level 1 agent, to the left of Emma sitting at the desk.
Irina only inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement and scanned in her ID. Once she was cleared a moment later, she then walked behind the assistant in silence. They went down the corridor and they stopped at an elevator where Emma pressed the side button, and after waiting a very short while the doors pinged open. Three other agents in standard suits shuffled out, and they entered. Emma ran in her own ID and pushed in a number, she stood closer towards the doors while Irina was again behind her.
There was music being played again, this time through speakers in the roof of the elevator box. It was something worse than the pop songs in the taxi ride. The odd feeling that elevators gave her passed quickly as Irina stepped out of the elevator when it came to a stop a minute later. Emma came out first and then Irina as she followed, they were now on a higher floor.
Irina was lead to a room where the door was already open to reveal Agent Belovna.
"You're going to Italy," said Agent Belovna as she slapped down two files. "Milan to be exact."
Irina felt some relief, she knew she wasn't supposed to have opinion over where she was deployed for missions but this time it would at least be somewhere that had less chances of running into mobster or gang members. Not that she couldn't deal with them, but she needed a break from all the shit she had been dealing with. It was also Lola's favourite place to shop.
Even with how she was feeling internally, externally her face didn't show anything, it remained a neutral canvas. In response to the news she simply nodded and slid the files towards herself.
"You're going to investigate covertly, and you're target is Rowan Avery. He's a big shot CEO for a company that has its fingers in all sorts of pies," Agent Belovna explained.
"Going out on a limb here, but are one of these pies involved in something illegal?" Irina asked. She had begun skim reading through the first file, larger than the second. It seemed as if Avery had been doing philanthropic work alongside other suspected side projects.
"Yes, that's why we have been interested in him for the last few years. He wasn't much of a problem before but his reputation and company is growing. This is where you come in, open the other file," Agent Belovna instructed. "In it is your cover."
Irina opened it and read through the first page. She would be Sara Lovera, a heiress of old money parents and grandparents. Sara Lovera was the fiancee of another rich socialite, Stefan Moretti, and both in their late 20s, only a few years younger than her actual age. Her occupation and work was limited, she volunteered at high end boutiques and other fashion industry related businesses or companies, the list went on for half a page. She also did charity work with her fiance, and on paper the alias seemed perfect.
"Who's going to be my partner on this?" Irina asked, the first few pages described Lovera and the cover in detail, but it only mentioned the fiance part a few times. "Shouldn't they be here as well?"
"He's currently finishing up on a mission in Prague," she replied, "It's Agent Clark Poole."
"Fucking Poole is the one on this mission," Irina exclaimed, she looked pissed. He had done some shitty things in the past that she didn't want to think about.
Agent Belovna sighed and said, "Yes, it's him. Turn to the last page, there's more information on his cover. He'll be arriving later today to meet you and then the both of you will leave at 1600 hours and on a regular civilian plane. And, yes, first class to fit in with your aliases. "
Irina gritted her teeth but followed the command. However, even with the annoyance of Agent Poole, they would be flying first class, and in her line of business operatives could die at any time on missions, so there was a general understanding of living well while you could live.
There were simple additional points on their roles on the last pages.
"You handler will be Agent Harvey, and he will give you more details when you get there, but your main aim is to observe and not engage unless you are told to. It hopefully won't be a long mission as this week Avery has parties and galas with guests from some of probably the most high-risk and unpredictable heads of companies and families," Agent Belovna said as Irina read through the rest of the file,
Irina looked up and pointed out, "So we're baby sitting."
"We want you to keep an eye on these dangerous people, and intercept if necessary," she replied.
"Are we done?" Irina asked, the words were edging on rude but her tone and eyes stayed neutral and calm.
"Yeah, we are. You can keep the files and you know where to get gear or anything if you need to," Agent Belovna said as she watched Irina pack up and then make her way to the door.
Irina was about to close the door and said, "Thanks." Agent Belovna only nodded.
Walking down the corridor she headed in the direction of the elevator, and after listening to the awful music inside she stopped at the level below the ground floor.
The doors opened to reveal a lab. A bloody huge lab. There were people milling about, glass walls and doors separating the different areas that people were working on.
Irina took slow steps into the organised chaos. A few friendly workers turned their heads to flash a quick smile before returning to their focus.
She took a few steps further into the labs and immediately a young boffin introduced himself.
"Hi! I'm Agent Ellis, but you can call me Quentin. You must be Agent Surikova, we were told to expect you. How are you today? Is there anything you might need? Weapons, clothing, specialist equipment, toys?" the kid said in a rapidly in a strong northern yorkshire accent.
Irina blinked but then said, "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I need, uh, a Glock with spare mags. I'm going to need some knives, ones I can conceal on clothing and ones that aren't so covert."
They were now walking into an open corridor, with Quentin leading and he said, "Easy, done. Let's head in here."
Then they entered a room with all types of side arms, sniper rifles, knives and daggers lined along the walls. There were people working, testing and recording the weapons, and there was a glass door that revealed an even larger indoor gun range and area to throw knives that the department designed.
"So, uh, this is all the slightly dangerous stuff. The more dangerous stuff is in the other side of the walkway," he said.
Quentin began to guide her around the room, pointing at different things on the walls and giving a short explanation. Soon enough they got around to the half wall lined with Glocks, Quentin picked out two and put magazines in them.
He handed them to her and said, "Choose one."
She looked up from the guns in her hands and said, "the 22." She handed the Glock 19 back before even assessing them.
"Cool. Okay, next line of business," he said as he put the other gun back in place. "Oh, and here are some holsters." He gave her a thigh holster for knives and another for the Glock, the other holster was one for her waistband, which she strapped on straight away and put the gun away.
Moving to the other side of the room they reached the case of knives, there was an impressive range, from chinese ring daggers to standard issue switchblades.
He slotted a key into the lock and twisted it to open the glass case. "Here, take your pick," he said as he waved a hand at them.
She selected a few after some consideration, she pocketed and holstered them away. "These are nice," she said in admiration.
"I know, right?," he said grinning. "Come on, let's move."
Quentin lead them out of the weapons lab and into the room on the other side of the corridor.
He turned to her and said, "Oh, and you can totally keep that switchblade and Glock, more where those came from. And now this is the place where we kit agents out with like any and all clothes they might need, such as bullet proof stuff or even just clothes that will have space to hold things. We can also get you another bag if you want." He pointed to the duffle bag she was still carrying.
"Uh, yeah. Okay, thanks," she said, Irina didn't feel like disagreeing with the kid, not when he was being so pleasant to her, he was also going straight to business, no silly questions. It was something she liked in people.
"That's great," he replied as he showed her a range of larger bags. Irina didn't spend a long time choosing and just grabbed one that she saw fit.
As she transferred her belongings into the new navy bag, including the food Lola had packed. She folded up her other bag and put it in as well.
While she was doing this Quentin was on his tablet, checking on business, when Irina was done he said, "Come with me," and then guided her to a smaller area in the corner of the very large room filled with clothing and costumes.
In the corner there were racks upon racks of even more standard issue shirts, jackets, trousers and shoes. "Yeah, so take anything you need. And where are you going then? They only kit agents out with all this if it's fancy op," he inquired.
Irina said, "Milan." She didn't give any other details as the mission was probably above his security level. She also didn't take much from there, just another long sleeved shirt and black cargo pants.
They quickly moved onto the next section of her much needed wardrobe. Irina took one look at the clothes and scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed.
"So, you're gonna have to get stuff from here. Got to be suitable for Milan. Which is why... " he said, and then pulled out a medium sized flowery suitcase out of literally nowhere, "you are going to be taking this with you."
He propped it on a chair while she sighed again, and began looking through the endless racks of dresses, blouses, jewelry and so much more.
In the end it took a torturous hour to fill the suitcase with everything a rich young women in Italy might have. There were times that Irina had been tortured that were a lot more bearable than the experience in the clothing room.
"Okay, I think we are done here. Oh, it's fine, you can leave that. It will be sent off to wherever you're staying at," Quentin said, they made their way out of the room and back into the corridor.
The both of them left the area they were around and headed back towards the direction they came from but then took a turn down another, this time, darker corridor into a new lab.
This time everything was more… tech-y. Machines and whirring cleanup robots wheeled around, there were people working at different stations, and it had a whole cleaner and less government suits atmosphere to it.
Quentin whizzed right into the lab and grabbed handful devices before stopping in front of Irina who was now slowly wandering around the work desks and stations.
He began to give some information about the lab as they went to an empty worktop. "This is where the Mousehole was being developed in its later stages. I'm quite proud to say that since I'm mainly centred in this department," he said beaming at her. He laid out all the things in his arms and said, "Anyway, let's go through this."
"Sure," she said as she put her bag down on the floor.
"Right. This is just your regular comms, shouldn't be a problem," Quentin said as he held up the small inner ear comms, he handed it over. "And here are some fancy reading glasses, which you don't need because you have twenty-twenty vision, but they're special and are basically x-ray glasses, just press that little silver button in the corner. So cool, my mate from the academy made them, now they are everywhere."
He also gave those, and she put them on. Irina looked around the room, and Quentin was right, they were pretty cool. She put it away in the side of the bag for safe keeping.
He moved on to the next bits of tech, and pushed forward a few velvet pouches. He opened one, tipped the contents into his the palm of his hand and inspected it. "This is might look like it's just another fancy broach you might wear to an expensive restaurant but it is actually a camera pin, see, just there, and it's in the shape of a rose."
The broach was slipped back into the small bag and then secured with strings being tightened. He picked up the other one and pulled out a sparkly necklace, he lifted it up to the light and then said, "This pretty thing is a recording device. Small, I know, but it will do the job."
She put out an open hand and he lowered it in. The necklace was silver with another flower pendant at the end. She slid the necklace back into the bag and put both of them away in her larger duffle.
"They're nice," Irina said mildly. It was true, they were gorgeous but generally not her style. Her style was more combat boots and decent bourbon.
"Yeah, well, I guess they would fit in with the whole fashion scene thing in Milan," he said smiling widely at her.
Quentin startled as he quickly said, "Oh! And I almost forgot," he walked over to a set of metal drawers behind him, inserted a key and took something out, and slammed it shut. He came back with the object in his hand and put it on the table.
He opened up the roll and declared, "A set of lock picks. I mean, you probably have a set of your own but these are good and it's useful to have spare."
Irina did have her own but he made some good points so she took it into her care. She had a quick look at the picks and saw there were a few tension wrenches and a long row of picks at different sizes.
"Okay, I think we're done here. Let's head out," he said and made a motion for her to follow.
Irina grabbed her duffle bag from the floor, with all her new tech, and walked beside Quentin. And soon enough they reached the small area near in front of the elevator.
"Thanks for everything," she said, and use one hand to gesture at her bag.
"No probs, you're welcome back any time," he smiled at her, and then lifted his tablet and said, "well, I've got to run now, but see you."
Quentin was stepping away now and Irina nodded in return. She pressed the button for the elevator and waited. When it opened a couple of people came out in white lab coats, and in the elevator she ran her badge and chose the second floor. Arriving there she headed to the cafeteria.
It was just passed 1pm now, with everything in the labs taking all morning, and it also meant that the cafeteria was busy with agents eating and chatting to each other, she could hear the commotion before even entering.
It was just like any other cafeteria around, except food served was usually better and actually more nutritious, and staff were friendly which was a bonus. Irina walked in through a set of double doors and halted for a moment. She went over to the cutlery, picked up a fork and then walked to an empty table near the windows. Putting her bag on the round table she took out one of the tuppence wear boxes that Lola had packed a lunch in and plopped her bag onto the surprisingly clean floor.
She lifted open the lid to see what was inside, and then saw it was a sandwich, she took a bite. It was PB and J. Of course it was.
She shot a text to Lola, saying 'Hey, thanks for the lunch. I'm leaving for Milan later today. Tell no one, it's probably classified'.
Irina was almost finished with her food when she looked up from scrolling websites on strange deaths, she saw Agent Clark Poole standing near the doors, he was looking around but when he spotted Irina he smirked and make his way towards her. More like arrogantly swaggered.
Irina sighed heavily and clicked on the lid of the lunch box. Poole pulled out a chair, it scraped loudly on the floor, and sat down opposite her. He still had a stupid smile on his face.
"How did you know where to find me?" she asked. Irina knew she would have to spend the rest of the week with him on a mission cozy-ing it up, but was the rest of the afternoon too must to ask?
He rested his chin on his hand and said, "They told me. And call me Clark, Irina. After all you're going to be right next to me for days and days."
"Who told you?" she asked as she put the rest of her lunch in her duffle bag.
"People told me."
Irina rolled her eyes and so he said, "It's a place full of spies, what do you expect?"
She knew that, obviously, and asked, "What are you doing here then? Couldn't you have gone anywhere else? Literally anywhere?"
"Aw. Are you trying to get rid of me? I'm here visiting you, thought I would see how you are doing on this beautiful day," Clark said while staring out the large window. Staring at the sunny sky and rooftop gardens on top of the garage outer building.
"I'm sure. Now why don't you go get some food, huh?" she said and then took a swing from her bottle of water.
"You know what? I will. And I'll be right back, don't you worry," he said standing up and taking his wallet out of his jacket.
He walked off and stood in line, he chatted with the other agents and staff queueing up as well, they all seem so… friendly.
Taking up her phone again she went back to scrolling because she couldn't be bothered to watch the scene happening before her.
Lola had texted her back, it read, 'It's good, I know. Only thing I can totally perfect. Safe travels'
However, before she knew it he returned in a matter of minutes, and sensing someone coming she looked up again.
"That was a fairly long line. How'd you get through it so fast? Were they tired of putting up with you so they pushed you out as soon as possible?" Irina asked somewhat irritated, her few moments of peace didn't last long. She slipped her phone into her pocket once more.
He had a tray of food with him and he was getting started on the pasta as he replied, "Nah, they love me, even gave me extra, see?"
Irina looked on and made a face. He was pretty much shovelling it in now. "I hope that's not how you're going to behave in the mission."
"Of course not. That reminds me, where are we going then? Somewhere warm I hope," Clark said, "last mission was a bit of a bitch, cold everywhere."
"Milan. Why don't you go to debrief then?" she asked. Irina just wanted him gone already. Inwardly her nerves were getting set on edge, but on her face it didn't show.
He smiled with a cheekful of crushed food. He said, "Oh, I will. But tell me, how's your love life, hm?"
"Private."
He just raised his eyebrows not saying anything. They sat in silence after that, with him eating and her watching the agents around them.
As Clark finished he opened his bottle of water and chugged down half. He then said, "You know what? I'm in the mood for some dessert, what do you think? I mean, I think I saw some jello cups up there."
Then, a thought struck Irina, and she said, "Hold up." She reached into her bag, as he watched curiously on what she would do and he probably thought she might shoot him or something, but she fished out the other plastic box after some digging, and put it on the table.
"What's this?" he asked slightly confused.
She opened it and said, "Pancakes."
Irina hoped that this would limit the time that he spent in the cafeteria with her. However she felt somewhat guilty for giving up Lola's pancakes to this asshat. And Irina also knew that she had regressed to name calling, but he wouldn't go away.
"Whoa, thanks," he said surprised, but took it gratefully and gracefully.
She felt dirty even just being kind to him, but she handed him the fork she never got to use and said,"Yeah, okay. Can you quickly finish and go then?"
"Sure, you got it," he said pointing at her with the fork.
"No. I'm good," she said with even more guilt kicking in.
He just shrugged and carried on. But eventually, after what felt like hours, he said, "All right. I'm done here, thanks for this. I'm gonna go get debriefed by.. Who is it again?"
"Agent Belovna, go ask for her assistant Emma at the front desk," Irina said as she slid the empty box towards her.
Clark stood up and took his tray with him as he left, "See you later." He nodded in her direction.
Finally he was gone, at least for the next two hours. It was only around 2pm and so Irina had another hour and a bit to spare, so she stayed in the cafeteria for a little while watching the amount of people dwindle down and the noise from before becoming quiet talking in the background.
There were people she recognised from odd jobs and other missions milling around, they all seemed so alive. And it was like she wasn't even in her own body, just an observer of events. Of course if she said anything about this feeling to anyone in psych she would never leave the ward.
Soon enough she felt like it was finally time to get moving, she packed up her stuff and slung her bag over her shoulder. Irina left through the same double doors but then headed for the staircase this time and then headed to the level above. Then once she got into the corridor she went for the large changing rooms, the ones with the good lockers.
Picking one at random she popped it open and then dropped the duffle onto the bench in between rows of lockers. She unzipped it, taking out the boxes, and then looked for a bin. Finding one she went over and tipped what was left into it, and then put it into the locker. Slamming the locker door shut Irina took out her phone and texted Lola, explaining how she had left the empty boxes in that room and in that specific locker number.
She changed into clothes suitable for a fight for her cover, Sara Lovera. Irina was now wearing sleek navy dress pants and floral v-neck top, with gold jewelry to match, and her regular clothes were stuffed in her bag. She looked at her bag in a melancholy way, the next couple of days would be with flashy, expensive and designer everything.
At this point Irina was bored beyond words. She huffed as she sat down next to her duffle.
Later on Irina left the gym where she was talking with some young cadets and giving them advice. She took the elevator down to the ground floor and then out to the garage where Clark was waiting for her leaning on a Range Rover. He was in a casual but smart grey suit, swinging the keys in his hand.
She walked towards him and readjusted her bag over her shoulder.
"So you wanna drive or what?" he asked. She relied and then threw the keys at her. She caught them and hopped into the driver's seat while Clark walked around to the passengers. Irina chucked her bag into the back seats and started the ignition.
As she pulled out of the large garage Clarke turned on the radio and flipped through the stations before settling on some oldies one. Irina raised her eyebrows when he looked over at her, he just shrugged and cracked open his window some.
Irina was just glad that they weren't actively talking, and it was a short drive anyway straight to the landing strip. They got there within minutes, and Irina was feeling somewhat giddy, not for being in the same company with Agent Poole, but for going to Milan since surprisingly she had never been before. Where, when the arrived, they weren't forced to go through the extensive procedures of airport security and simply flashed their badges.
At the bottom of the steps to board the plane they were both greeted by another agent. He was young, maybe in his late 20s and had sandy blond hair, and he wore an off the rack suit, without the tie, and had a medium sized carry on bag.
"Hi, I'm Agent Adam Cole," he said as he brought up his ID, "and I'll be running tech support for you two."
Clark grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "That's great, nice to see you again. On that mission in Stuttgart, yeah? Now hop on board like a good agent."
Agent Cole didn't say anything but shuffled onto the steps just as he was told, and led the way onto the front of the plane. It meant first class, and separation from Clark. She hadn't made an assessment of the new agent she had just met but he hadn't done anything yet to alter her opinion of him. However, so far, he just seemed like a slightly nervous kid getting on a giant flying metal tube with at least two assassins.
Once they were on board they were greeted and offered refreshments, Irina chose a seat at random and then took the complimentary champagne as it was going to be a long flight and it wasn't like she could handle 13 hours sober. She had already finished the glass before even taking off, and had requested the rest of the bottle, Clark hadn't gotten anything alcoholic. His loss.
The flight attendant began explaining exits and other emergency procedures before the seat belt sign started flashing and the ping of it sounded. The plane rumbled as it started moving, Irina closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat. Then, once they reached the clouds and had gained altitude, she flashed open her eyes and took a sip of her champagne.
Spies and alcohol went hand in hand.
There was a 9 hour time difference between Vancouver and Milan, which meant jet lag for most people but she was so used to changing time zones that it didn't really bother her anymore.
It was going to be a long flight so she settled in for the ride.