Budapest » [Clintasha]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Able Archer

The funny thing was, suppressing it outwardly helped me suppress it on the inside. But as much as I crammed it down, it still remained, like a kidney stone throbbing in my side.

We both settled in the cockpit and he shut the door behind us. Presented with a switchboard that covered the space above and below the windscreen, I shrunk back in the lumpy leather seat - which, by contrast was luxurious to the ones James and Yelena occupied.

I shied away from the flashing lights and beeping buttons, some of which remarked 'danger' or 'emergency'.

With the same fluidity as a pianist presented with a piano, his fingers danced over the dashboard and tripped and flicked switches. The plane hummed musically, and vibrated with the force of the turbines strapped to either wing.

He blabbed into the microphone that hovered inches from his mouth. "Can you please open the hanger bay door?"

I lodged the headphones on my head, mirroring my colleague.

I watched in astonishment as the whole panel before us rolled back and revealed the treacherous road to the skies. The wind was sending snowflakes slanting at an angle and kicking up into the air. It was practically a white-out. The runway was thickset with snow and I winced.

With a grin, Alexi clasped the lever between us and eased the plane forward.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I crossed the seatbelts across my chest and rested my hands on the wheel.

"Certain."

And we eased forward, the wheels towing us towards the bleakness. I could feel the bumps in the hangar as the speed increased and we jostled in our winged ting-can. Then we broke out into the dim daylight and snowstorm.

The wheels skidded, but we didn't lose momentum. We screamed through the whiteness until the plane was rattling itself apart with the uneven turf.

Then, as if by magic, I felt the wind catch us and the ground drop from beneath us. My stomach furled at the jolt as we were catapulted into the sky. I gripped the steering wheel tight, and tried to recapture my breath.

"No need to look so ill, little lady." He had the confidence to glance at me as we soared into the white gloom.

The turbines were sputtering dangerously as they chugged the white snow, but we were still angled for the sky. The wings flexed and the metal creaked, but Alexi looked nonchalant - and completely focused.

Then, like a breath of fresh air, we pierced the cloud cover. And I remembered how to breathe again.

He chuckled happily to himself - clearly feeling that combination of exhilaration and relief I was. I joined him in trivial jovialities. And once I'd recovered from that shock, I managed to appreciate the view out of the windshield.

"It looked like you were going to kill us all for a second..." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fallaces sunt rerum species..." he smirked.

I cocked my head, the movement posing the question.

"Latin, 'appearances can be deceptive'." He flexed his fingers on the wheel and pulled the lever that quietened the roar of the engine.

There was a plateau of grey clouds beneath us, put just peeking above that, like a ship sinking on the horizon, was the sun nestled in cloud. It's luminescence was blinding, and it painted the sky orange with its wings of light.

"It's..." I was at a loss of words. "Beautiful..."

"And you wonder why I spend most of my time flying..." He dipped his hand into his pocket and placed his shades on his face, and gazed philosophically at the horizon.