EPISODE 04: Operation Mile High Club 01 (Patreon)

// Theater of Operations: Republic of Esperança

// Mission Time: Day 3, 1747 Hours

“Eyes on the prize, your highness.” Chirped a digital voice in Baram’s ear-piece. She raised her arms and pretended to stow something in an overhead equipment locker and threw a quick glance over her shoulder. “I see her.” She replied quietly.

Ana Castilho, former president of the Republic of Esperança sat by the window. Her country was crumbling under the weight of a grueling civil war. Forced into exile after the government palace was stormed by the mobs. She was on the run, accompanied by a single assistant, in a private jet manned by a skeleton crew and most likely under the payroll of Rook Company. It was a bad day - but she was smiling.

Baram took a deep breath and focused. It had been three days since she lost all contact with the agency during her botched operation in the Amazon jungle*. Hoping to find a way to break through the communication blackout she made her way to the capital. It sounded simple in the manual: Blend in, keep a low profile and call for an extraction.

But Rook Company was more than a mercenary security outfit. That much was clear now. It only took them a few minutes to pin-point her location after she attempted to establish comms using an old landline. Within seconds her makeshift hideout in the abandoned hotel was swarming with ‘military police’ and she would have been captured … if Visage hadn’t intervened.

“This time, please follow my instructions to the letter.” stressed the digital voice.

Friend or foe, she wasn’t sure. She knew her original mission had failed due to bad intel. She also knew Visage was meant to be their on-site contact. Which made it very hard for her to develop trust for the disembodied voice in her head. But so far …

“Hey, so far, I’ve done exactly as you said.” She retorted.

“Drive the motorcycle out of the window, is not the same as, climb down the emergency fire exit.” Detailed Visage. The recriminating tone lost to the synthesized modulation of the child-like digital voice.

“Tomato tomahto.” Said Baram, sticking her tongue out. But she didn’t complain. She had grown fond of her ‘inner voice’ as it had become the only companionship available to her. “Get some alone time with the president and fuck her brains out. Capture the plane, then re-route to friendly airspace. Don’t worry I’m a master of stealth.”

“Yeah OK, master of stealth. Shh.” interrupted Visage. The ‘shh’ replicated as static.

“Don’t shh me!” complained Baram.

“Shh someone is coming.” Elaborated Visage.

A blonde flight attendant walked into the galley giving a weird look Baram as she wagged a thumb toward the back of the plane. “Hey rookie, can you prep the personal quarters for the VIP?”

“Yes please!” quipped Baram, confusing the blonde even more.

“Oh god. This is going to be good.” Said Visage. The emotionless digital voice making the statement sound a lot more sarcastic than intended. Maybe.

(To be continued.)

*See Operation: Dawn Bringer