Page 47 of Agent's Integrity

I sneezed again. I tried to brace myself so it wouldn’t hurt as much. It wasn’t as bad, but it still hurt. I sniffed and leaned into the chair. I needed to stop complaining and being so suspicious. It was the cop nature in me. But things didn’t feel right. I was missing some context somewhere. It was probably the language barrier. I was used to being in control, but now I had to rely on Ethan to arrange everything. I wanted to know every detail, and I knew I couldn’t. I was an outsider here. I had to trust Ethan.

After a few more minutes, they finished loading the shuttle. The two men Ethan had originally talked to came up to the pilot and co-pilot seats. The doors closed, trapping the smell inside the tiny confines. I pressed a finger under my nose to try and alleviate the urge to sneeze, but it didn’t help much.

The slimmer of the two men caught the look on my face, reached into a pocket, and withdrew some cotton. He held it out to me.

I blinked at the cotton. “What is that for?”

He tilted his head back and pointed at his nose. I squinted and finally noticed he had a little bit of cotton sticking out of his nostrils.

“It’s for the smell.” Ethan was buckling up. “They use it to keep from sneezing all the time. This stuff is potent.”

“Oh.” I took the cotton from him. “Thank you.”

He smiled at me and went back to work powering up the shuttle. I eyed the cotton before I leaned closer to Ethan to whisper. “Do you think it’s used?”

He let out a surprised laugh and grinned. He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“Good.” I carefully rolled the cotton and then gingerly shoved it up my nose. It helped immediately. I had to breathe through my mouth, but if it kept me from sneezing, I wasn’t going to complain. I held out the excess to Ethan. “Want some?”

“No, thank you.” He shook his head. “The smell doesn’t bother me.”

“How in the world could it not bother you?” It wasn’t that the spices smelled awful; they were just strong. Though I hadn’t seen Ethan sneeze or react to the smell at all. “The people who move this stuff around all the time think it’s too much.”

The shuttle lifted off the ground and I heard some chatter from the control tower, giving us permission to take off and directions for a clear route. Ethan dropped his bag between his feet and squirmed in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. “It just doesn’t. Maybe I’m weird.”

The pilot, the stocky one, spoke to Ethan again, and he answered with a smile. I didn’t know any of the language, but I tried to listen to see if I could pick any of the words out. I couldn’t. They chatted for several minutes, and I resigned myself to resting while we flew. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I could rest. That would help.

We lifted into the air and shot upwards, leveling out once we were high enough. There wasn’t much to see out the front windows, and there weren’t any other windows for me to look out, so I watched the clouds for a little bit. The co-pilot turned partially in his seat to look at us. When he spoke this time, his eyes were on me.

He sounded curious, and I looked from him to Ethan, hoping for a translation. Ethan eyed the other man for several seconds before he looked at me. “He is asking for your name.”

I smiled at the co-pilot. “It’s Julia.”

The co-pilot smiled and repeated my name, and I nodded. He rattled off something else and then said, slower, “Conan.”

“Your name is Conan?” I asked.

We both glanced at Ethan, who nodded. Conan said something else, looking at me, but Ethan answered, a sharp edge in his tone. Conan seemed surprised either that Ethan answered or that he sounded sharp. It sounded like he asked Ethan a follow up question. Ethan shook his head.

“What’s he saying?” Curiosity got the better of me.

“Nothing. Just asking questions about you.”

“That’s not nothing.” I looked at Ethan from the corner of my eye. His eyes focused intently on one or the other of the two men in front of us. I don’t know if he was upset or bothered, but he seemed off.

The co-pilot gave me another curious look before he turned back to the controls. He seemed friendly enough to me, but Ethan was acting like Conan had said something he shouldn’t have. Ethan wasn’t thrilled with the questions, that much was plain. No one seemed hostile or angry, but the atmosphere felt awkward now.

I poked Ethan in the arm and whispered to him. “Is everything alright?”

He smiled at me, but it didn’t seem quite genuine. “Yes. We’ll be in Concordia before you know it.”

The rest of the flight passed mostly in silence. Occasionally the two sitting up front would converse, but it was in their language, and I couldn’t follow it. Ethan didn’t speak; he just watched everything. While his posture said he was relaxed, his eyes were hard. It was unnerving when compared to his normally calm demeanor.

Finally, the pilot said something to us, and Ethan gave a single word answer before straightening up. “We’re landing.”

I nodded. I caught glimpses of the city outside the window, but I couldn’t see much from my seat. The pilot was good at his job, and we landed smoothly, without irritating my injury further. Ethan was up and ready in seconds, bag swung across his back, and a hand extended to help me up.

My pride told me to stand on my own, but practicality urged me to accept his help. I took his hand and stood carefully. Almost immediately, my hand started tingling. I swear, every time I touched him, I felt like I had a physical reaction. We walked around the crates towards the rear doors. Conan followed us and opened the doors so we could exit. He and Ethan spoke rapidly in their language while the ramp extended down.

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