There was nothing more frustrating than watching your plan crumble at your feet.
That's exactly how I felt when I was told all of the train tickets for tomorrow were taken up. But, there wasn't exactly much I could do in response except for look at Ashton with agonizing despair and accept that I had to break into a car or walk to Dimona. Ashton and I had business there in three days so we didn't exactly have time to waste.
Ever since our hasty escape from Russia, I had contacted my buyer and moved the purchase date up. Now I'm starting to think I should have given Ashton and I an extra two weeks to wander around Israel. Though the goal was always to sell the drive as fast as possible and get the fuck out of here before we end up killed. I think both of us could go for a nice, long vacation right about now. Good thing we would each have a two-point-five billion dollar golden parachute to fund it.
We could have waited until the next day to start our journey on a full night of sleep, but both of us ruled that as a complete waste of time. After ten hours of walking, we stopped in Mabhur. The plan was to catch a few hours of sleep before setting off towards Be'er Sheva. If all went according to plan, we would get there by nightfall tomorrow and put us only a few hours behind our original plan.
My heavy boots heavily thudded on the stairs of an abandoned building, following Ashton to the top of the old four-story office complex. The door from the stairwell needed a little extra help in the form of Ashton kicking it in, but when we opened it we were left an empty floor missing windows and furniture, leaving just concrete ground and sand-colored walls. Unlike most of the buildings in this small town, this one was completely run down like you would expect its cities. It reminded me of my home in New York. There were always abandoned buildings to break into with your friends and get drunk.
I was an odd kid.
I set down the heavy metal bucket of water I was carrying while Ashton rehinged the door so it wouldn't open. The noise of the city was bustling in my ears, everyone located on the streets below us. I pulled the handgun from out of my waistband and searched through the backpack at my feet for a silencer. When I found it, I screwed it on the barrel of the sleek weapon and unhooked the safety, placing it on the ground for now.
We were past the point of hotels and luxuries like cell phones. Everything could be traced and we had to avoid that to be safe.
"We should dye our hair black here. We won't need to go into public here anymore," Ashton brought up when he placed his pack next to mine, pulling out two boxes of hair dye which had been purchased in Tel Aviv.
"What do you think the buckets for?" I smirked slightly, crouching down to open one of the small green boxes.
"Great minds think alike," Ashton quipped while sending me a small smile, crouching beside me and picking up the other box.
"We should do your hair first because there's less so we can use extra on mine if needed. Besides, mine can be covered most of the time," I reasoned to which Ashton agreed. "Have you enjoyed your time as a brunette?" I teased him while putting on the pair of clear gloves that came with the bottle. Dying our hair this much probably wasn't the best for us, but that was the least of our concerns.
"Not really. It's been very stressful, actually."
"Says the man that got a two on his risk ratting," my annoyed tone drawled while Ashton pulled off his long sleeve grey T-shirt and sat on the concrete ground. I poured the activator and the die into the cloudy bottle and shook it while holding my thumb over the white nozzle.
"You're still bitter about that? It's okay, Athena, I'm just that much better than you," Ashton bit back playfully before pulling his gun out of his waistband and picking up the silenced one I put on the ground. If I was going to have my hands full then he needed to be ready to shoot someone even if the door was locked. "What's the point of even dying your hair?" He asked thoughtfully.
"I was in the Middle East for a little over five years with brunette hair. I'm sure plenty of intelligence agencies have my face plastered on their walls, especially after I escaped to the Emirate's consulate. I can't take the risk." Blonde hair also required a lot more maintenance to look natural without turning coppery so black was the safest bet for now. I could have worn a hijab but I wasn't about drawing more unwanted attention in a country where Islamic religions were persecuted. Not to mentioned appropriating religions wasn't at the top of my to-do list, it was only a necessary survival tool in some cases. Like in Saudi Arabia, I wore them every day to blend in. It all depended on the circumstances, really.
Ashton's hair didn't take long to dye considering the length and the fact that I was experienced with changing hair colors. Usually, I preferred wigs but this was a more permanent mission, not a one-night art heist. When I finished and we rinsed Ashton's hair with the extra water in the bucket. He looked like he was back to normal so that was a good sign.
I threw my dirty gloves into the small empty box while Ashton put on his own and mixed the next batch of dye. I pulled my blue long sleeve shirt over my head slowly, folding it before placing it on top of Ashton's, which he had placed on top of one of the black backpacks to keep clean. We wouldn't have much access to plumbing so we had to preserve what we had. Going off the grid meant as little civilization as possible. It was the safest route we could take.
I didn't miss the way Ashton's bright eyes clung to my curves and my breasts through my bra when I took my long hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall past my shoulders. I sat down on the ground in front of where Ashton was on his knees, shaking the dye bottle. He'd been the one to dye my hair in Belarus so I knew he knew what he was doing. "Where did that bracelet come from?" Ashton asked, observing the thin copper and steel alloy chain, made of the same material as typical dog tags.
Ashton moved most of my hair to the right, starting to dye the left. With a lack of clips, we had to get creative with how we covered all the hair in the dye, making the bottom then top layer method impractical. I bit my lip for a second in thought before I answered. "The more rogue CIA agents wear them. I found it on the man I killed three days ago."
"Making another statement in case we die?" Ashton asked carefully, taking note of my seemingly hesitant attitude.
"Something like that." I had left my dog tags in France. It was way too risky to take them on a trip like this. "Wouldn't you rather go down with someone else? Maybe an entire country?" I mussed, only slightly joking. I wanted my former government to feel pain.
"My plan for revenge has a lot less to do with me dying."
I could have asked Ashton what he meant. Hell, I probably should have asked him. For all, I know his vengeance could cost me my life. But there was something about letting a man keep his dark secrets in the pit of his heart, letting it fester into a masterpiece. Selfishly, I wanted to see the culmination of Ashton Naifeh's pain. It would be truly magnificent.
So I let him keep his secret, if not for himself then for my own entertainment.
"What are the chances the foreign minister is going to recognize you?" I asked Ashton, switching the subject.
Ashton clucked his tongue in thought, his lanky fingers running through my hair. "I wouldn't say it's outrageously high. I mean, there are plenty of high ranking soldiers. The only thing that could make me stand out is that I'm sure I'm the only one that's deserted the Sayeret Matkal. It's a gamble."
"Then I hope he's up for doing business with old friends," I muttered under my breath.
"If Mr. Dayan is the same man I remember, then he's more then willing to make a deal with the devils of the desert."
Couldn't have put it better myself, Naifeh.
Come to think of it, if Ashton didn't make it out alive, I'd miss my partner in crime. That was harder to stomach than any crumbling plan or impending enemies. I hate to admit it, but Ashton Naifeh has become the light at the end of my tunnel. Without him, I wasn't sure what was left.
Money? Survival? Of course, those things still mattered to me but living with another human being and being able to connect with them on an emotional level made me question everything I knew. I spent so long in the dark where I couldn't afford the luxury of emotional happiness. I'd been starved for so long that I had convinced myself I didn't even need relationships with other people.
The reality of it was that I could survive easily without other people, I just didn't want to. The average person would never understand me. They would never be able to look at my reality and think I wasn't the scum of the earth. But Ashton was different. He knew how I thought, why I did what I did. It didn't matter how fucked up we were because we were just doing what we had to in order to preserve our reputations and freedom. We didn't keep cuffs off our hands by letting people live and that was the sad fact of the matter.
All good things must end, and it seems the best things are the ones that end up in a fiery explosion of decimation.
Here's to enjoying Ashton Naifeh's company, because in less than forty-eight hours one of us will be dead.
We're too far damned to be saved.