The Art of Unopulence

04 | disillusion

I swallow my biting fear and sit straight, clutching the file in my hands close to my chest like a vibranium shield, "What the fuck is going on?"

"Mind your language when you talk to me Ariya." Dad's jaw clenches as he turns behind to look at me.

His expression is icy and I cower back slightly, biting my tongue.

"Yes sir." I mutter.

"Hand me that file."

"No."

"Stop behaving like a child, Ariya." Dad grits his teeth, "It's not fitting for your age."

"This is self preservation!" I glare, my chest heaving rapidly, "This file that undoubtedly has information about some military activity, had my picture in it. If you wanted to use me, the least you could have done was take my permission."

Surprise flashes across my father's features momentarily, but he masks it quickly. He remains silent, fingers twitching towards the gun concealed at his waist like he does when he's nervous.

I watch him wordlessly, eyes following every small movement as he presses a couple of buttons on the car dashboard. A strange sort of vibration fills the interior. I strain my ears to make out a sound, but there isn't any. I suspect it's an ultrasonic blocking device.

"What made you suspicious?" Dad asks finally.

I roll my eyes. Out of all the things he could have asked about, he chooses to ask me whether his plan of keeping things under wraps is faulty.

"Well, firstly this bug embedded under the rubber floor mat, and the earpiece you're wearing were dead giveaways. But honestly, if you hadn't taught me how to identify all these gadgets I probably wouldn't have cared to look twice." I reply, trying hard not to sound cocky and hostile, "And did you think I wouldn't notice the sudden mushiness? For seventeen years you've treated me like a cadet in training whenever I'm with you- preached punctuality and tolerance to hardships and all that. And then suddenly you're lifting my bags and asking me where I want to eat and all that cute fatherly shit. Honestly, I wonder why I took as long as I did to realize something was amiss. You simply want to use me for whatever ruse you've created for your mission!"

Dad hums in response, unbothered by my outburst before saying, "I see that you're sharp as ever."

My jaw drops. Shaking my head, I toss the file onto the seat beside me and cross my arms in front of my chest.

"I'm waiting for you to explain."

"Very well then." Dad nods clasping his fingers together, "What would you like to know?"

"Everything."

Dad stares at me silently, face devoid of expression, "It is in our interest that you only know what concerns you."

I shrink slightly under his heavy gaze and nod slowly.

"The intelligence service has enlisted me to help hide a foreign national, a royal crown prince, whose safety has been compromised by an unknown organization. He's about your age and will be under my care for the next few months. He shall pretend to be my godson, only child of my martyred best friend from my former unit in the army." Dad answers carefully, "I figured the ruse would be more believable if I had my own daughter staying with me."

It takes me a few moments to digest the information I've been entrusted with.

"Does Mum know?" I raise my eyebrows.

My father's face pinches with a wave of guilt.

"Right." I say in a clipped tone, "I thought as much. I wonder when you were planning to tell me? Was it before or after this dude showed up at our front door and asked for you in a weird accent?"