Monty's Master – Part 7
The airport was packed with people either returning from their extended vacation or rushing to catch last-minute holiday deals.
Perry did his best to blend in, wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt and a pair of sunglasses which he pushed up to get a better look at Monty who was dressed as usual in his gray hoodie and was dragging behind him a ridiculously heavy-looking duffle bag.
"I told you to pack light."
"But you also said that we must always be one step ahead. You never know when we're gonna need it," said Monty, patting his bag.
Perry gave him a tired look then pulled a brand new ID card out of his wallet.
"Michael Smith, seriously? That's got to be the most generic name ever," Monty said, turning the card over in his hand.
"That's kind of the point," Perry murmured.
They made it through the check-in counter, only to be held up at the metal detector.
Perry didn't understand. All O.W.C.A. gear and weaponry relied on an alternative energy source that was supposed to block any electromagnetic field. Yet to his surprise, the security officer didn't touch his backpack; instead, she unzipped Monty's luggage and pulled out a long metal stick with rubber ends.
"Oh, that's just my fire baton," said Monty, taking the stick from her hand and beginning to spin it rapidly, tossing it over his head and catching it on his nose.
"Oh, are you an acrobat?" asked the officer.
"Uh, yes, yes we are," Monty said throwing his arm around Perry's shoulders and pulling him closer.
Perry frowned, but Monty let go of him before he could open his mouth to protest, and took off along the row of people waiting in line. He turned around and performed several handsprings then double-jumped and spun in the air headlong towards Perry who reflexively raised up his arm. Their palms touched as he held Monty up with one hand, perfectly balanced and in perfect alignment with each other.
The crowd around them erupted into cheers, even the officer seemed to have completely forgotten about their luggage.
"What did I say about drawing attention to ourselves?" Perry asked through gritted teeth, looking up at him.
"Relax, Agent P," whispered Monty who started using his free hand to wave at the crowd. "Nobody suspects a thing."
But all of Monty's adrenaline seemed to have run out the moment they took their seats on the plane.
"Why not just use your sonic jet?"
"I told you," Perry said, flipping the page of a tourist attraction book. "Last time we checked, Doctor Bringdown didn't own a sonic jet. And if we want to retrace his steps, we'll have to do it properly or we might miss something."
"But this is ridiculous! It's going to take us forever to get there and he's already got a two weeks head start!"
"This is the fastest public flight to India," Perry said, "six hours tops."
Monty groaned as he leaned back in his sit.
"Just find a useful way to pass the time and try to keep quiet," Perry said, fishing out a puzzle magazine from the net in front of him and passing it to Monty.
Monty scowled at the first page, then opened it in the middle, curiosity growing in his eyes.
Perry let out a small breath, but the silence didn't last long because it turned out that Monty didn't quite grasp the purpose of crosswords.
"What's a nine-letter word for meadow?"
"Grassland," said Perry who was holding his head in his hands.
Monty scribbled quickly, squeezing his tongue between his teeth.
"Eight-letter word for jawbone?"
"Mandible."
"Wow, you're really good at this! Eight-letter word for aggravating?"
"Teenager."
"Um, no. I think this actually calls for an adjective... wait. Alright, very funny Agent P. "
Monty put down the magazine and turned to him. "Look at us bonding! You know, we haven't had a chance to really catch up ever since you started your apprenticeship."
Perry didn't look up from his tourism book.
"So what was it like when you were an apprentice? What was your master like?"
Perry didn't answer but turned the next page perhaps a little too fast.
"Oh, was he really that harsh?"
"She, actually," Perry spoke up. "And yes, she was, especially at the beginning. Agent Double W didn't like people asking too many questions."
"Wait, your master was the White Wolf?" Monty asked in astonishment. "As in the best agent from the first generation, that White Wolf? I heard she could bring down an entire army with her hands tied behind her back! I guess that's where your lone wolf attitude also comes from, huh?"
"Enough with the questions," Perry said, glancing out the window.
"Oh, okay, I got it, touchy subject. I'll be quiet now."
But of course that didn't last long because five minutes later Monty stretched out with a long yawn and stood up declaring, "I'm bored. I'm gonna go check for bombs in the luggage compartment."
The old lady on their right pulled off her sleeping mask and stared at them.
"That's one funny way to say you need to use the restroom, Michael," Perry said with a gentle laugh and a charming smile that would have been enough to soften even the hardest of hearts.
The old woman nodded quietly to herself and leaned back, adjusting the mask over her eyes.
"Uh, what?"
"Just go splash some water on your face or something," Perry said in a much colder tone.
Seeing he had no way out of it, Monty crossed the aisle, occasionally throwing suspicious looks at some unsuspecting passengers.
When he returned to his seat, Perry seemed to have fallen asleep with his headphones stuck in his ears.
"Aw, I missed the snack cart," Monty said, giving a long look to the man in a suit next to the old lady, who was eating a candy bar.
Not a moment later a bag of mini pretzels came flying at him. Monty caught it, blinked, and looked up at Perry who remained completely motionless.
Monty smiled and sat down next to him without saying another word.