The pilot needed someone to wait by the plane since they would be leaving for another destination in few hours. They were unable to leave early due to the storm. As I stepped out of the plane, the air felt heavy and smelled of diesel. I could feel the heat reflecting off the tarmac. There were the sound of planes taking off and arriving simultaneously. The pilot and his assistant followed me into the arrival lobby before they walked in opposite direction bidding me goodbye.
Charles de Gaulle was definitely one of the busiest airport in Europe and also one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The floor was white and clean reflecting manmade lights. People were moving like unseen current waves of the sea flowing like water to the check-in desk, to the café's and through the gates, each one of them heading to their various destination. There were sounds of suit cases dropping on the conveyer belt, voices of young and old. Their tones were either subdued with anticipation of separation or excitement to leave. It just made me remember how much I wanted to leave this place and get back to the woman I love. I walked with my bag to where the security would check me. It took me less than four minutes to finish the whole process. I basically had just my passport and a small bag to check. My passport was left for me in a drawer in the plane. It was created with another covert name, Moussa Fati.
I was to assume the identity of a photographer who has come to France to get few images of models for the front cover of a major magazine in Sierra Leone. My camera was inside the tiny bag inside my bag. I moved to the entrance of the airport to get a cab to convey me to the location Mark had given me. As I was about to leave, I took a glance at the big clock in the airport's entrance. The time was already 11:48pm. I needed to get to that location soon in other to prep for the next day. I raised my thumb high to stop a cab and a couple of seconds later, I got one. I opened the door and stepped in. The driver was a dark-skinned elderly man with an awesome French accent.
"Monsieur du soir," said the cab driver as he turned back to look at me.
I just smiled back at him. He must have definitely presumed I was French
"Soiree.....uhhhh Je ne...uhhh parle pas francias?" I spoke like I wasn't sure about what I had just said so I just had to say it in a questioning tone. I couldn't see the driver's face clearly but he definitely laughed at my French. I sounded like a toddler. I was sure I did because I heard myself. I guess my plan did work.
"Tu parle Anglais?" he said with such a grin on his face.
I jumped immediately he said that, "Oui....oui parle anglais."
The driver laughed when he saw the way I reacted to his question. "You don't look English," he said in his French accent.
"Well, I have been told that before," I replied him laughing. This was going great.
"Are you foreigner?" asked the driver.
"Yes....yes. I am a foreigner. I am here for a job," I kept enunciating each word carefully so that he could understand what I was saying.
"Hey, I speak anglais too," he said jokingly.
"Of course, you do. You sound well just with the French accent."
"We French stuck with accent even if we speak another language," he said laughing back at me.
"So where to monsieur?" he asked delightfully.
I just passed him the card I got from Mark. The driver read the card and returned it to me.
"Rue de Buci.....That is hundred and five euros," he said as he turned back to start the car.
"How long will it take to get to Rue?" I asked.
"Une heure... if traffic is not much," he replied.
He started the engine and drove out of the parking area of the airport. Few minutes later, we were in the city of Paris. As soon as we got into the city itself, there was a sudden feeling of excitement that came over me. I have been to other cities in France but this place just gave such an immense impression that was unexplainable in words. In every corner we turned into, there was different artist building structure that makes you drop your jaws in awe. It didn't even feel like it was late in the night because of the few adults going about and the impressive street lights shining around accompanied with a bright full moon. It felt like the moon here was different from the one I have always seen. It was different in an amusing way because its beauty was complemented by the surroundings I was in. It was thoroughly clean and attractive. There were graffiti on some side of the wall as we drove through some streets and they were all capturing. A renowned author once expressed Paris as the home of artist.
It was curtained, enclosed and sheltered and most of all it felt like a dreamland. Just ahead of us, you could see the incredible three hundred and twenty four meters long wrought-iron Eiffel tower. We were definitely far away from it but it looked really close.
"Is that........" I said unable to complete my sentence as I adored the incredible tower.
"Oui, tour Eiffel. You can see it everywhere here in Paris. You like, huh?" the driver said but I was too impressed to speak.
"I can take you other magnifique des endroits. Paris has plenty. I can take you, if you want, you know?" said the driver.
"Thank you but I won't be here that long. I am just here for a job and I will be leaving in less than three days if all goes well," I said feeling disappointed to have turned down his request.
"But I am definitely coming back here. This place is incredible."
The driver chuckled in the front seat and I couldn't stop looking through the window. There was something exciting on every corner. I definitely have to bring Nene here. She would be mind blown just to see all these amazing art. I have seen in a couple of books on how the French was used to portray love and now, I understand why. France was definitely the best place on earth to express love. Couple of minutes later, the driver started to slow down.
"Monsieur?" said the driver and I snapped out of my trance.
"We here...." the driver said as he stopped in front of an apartment building. I pulled out my wallet and passed him one hundred and fifty euros through the plastic glass that separated the passenger's seat from the driver's.
"Keep the change," I said before the driver passed me the change.
"Merci monsieur," he replied as I walked out of the car.
"Au revoir, sénior," the driver said as he drove off.
The tall apartment was in the middle of a transitional neighborhood with every building having at least one outbuilding and a rusty tank. It was very quiet other than the whispers coming from the television set of some apartments and the moonlight helped me process the surroundings more accurately. There were municipal sidewalks on each sides of the road with mossy concrete heaved up by tree roots here and there. I finally turned to the building I was here for. The paints of the apartment was peeling but it was more accurate to say it was shedding. It seemed old-fashioned and gloomy with lots of rooms judging by the numerous windows and several fire escape stairs. That made it impossible for me to know exactly where I was going in the building. I wasn't given a room number and there seems to be lots of them but I shrugged it off and began to approach the building. As I was about walk onto the small stairs leading to the entrance of the building, I felt my bag vibrate. My phone was switched off and it was in my pocket. It must have been the tablet so I dropped the bag off my shoulder and I pulled tablet out. It was a message which read:
Sixth floor
Room 82.
Whoever I was coming to meet here knew I was around and they just provided me with the information I needed. I looked up at the apartment suspiciously but I knew I wasn't going to find my answer there. I returned the tablet into my bag and slung it back on my shoulder. I walked into the building and there was an old cranky-looking elevator right in front of me. I taped the button and it opened immediately. Nobody was using the elevator especially at this late hour. I walked into the silver container and I pressed the button that signifies the number six.
Just as the door was about to close, a fair-skinned middle-aged man stuck his muscular hand in between the door making it retract as the door opened again. The man smiled at me just as he was about to walk into the elevator. He was wearing a leather jacket and a shawl obviously because of the cold. He was taller than I was and also black-bearded. Just a glance at him, he really didn't fit in this building. He couldn't have been living here so maybe he was here to see someone. I however noticed he didn't even go for the control button. He just stared dead at the door as it shut closed.
"Your ID number?" the man said as soon as the elevator began to move without even turning to look at me.
I raised my brows at him as I gripped my bag harder looking startled. Few seconds later, it dawned on me. He was the one I was here to see. He must have seen me in the street before he sent me the message.
"Alpha one triple zero eight," I said as soon as I steered my gaze away from the black-bearded man.
"Confirmation code?" he asked bluntly.
"Archer Diamond Amethyst Moonstone."
It sounds just like random words but to an agent of SSC, the first letters of each of the words spells our name and mine was 'ADAM'. Also, the last three words are birthstones while the first word signifies my rank.
"Password Archer?" the man asked.
"Zero two four five five dash three two one," I replied calmly.
This process was necessary to confirm an agent's identification. Every time we went for mission on a foreign soul, we needed that information to be fully activated for duty. Only the safe house operative at the safe house where the agent was supposed to report knows the password and it was changed consistently.
"Welcome agent Adam, I have been waiting for you," the man said as turned to face me with his hand stretched towards me.
I shook his hand, "Sorry for keeping you waiting."
"Noooo....you are right on time. I got everything prepared already. I just needed you to show up so I can brief up on my progress," the man explained as he turned back to look at the elevator door as it slid open. We walked out of the elevator, then into the corridor and he led the way to the room while I followed behind.
"My name is Picard," he said as he walked in front of me. I realized his name was on the card Mark gave me.
"For the last few weeks, I haven't been able to see anything until the institute sent me a memo on the prisoner the covert department caught."
Picard opened the door and I followed him in. The room was untidy and smelled like alcohol. There was a large board far from the window, pictures pinned to it with red and white threads placed on each pin pulled across from one picture to another. There were at least two rooms in that apartment but Picard had used the living room as his detective room.
"Is this wise? I mean any of these people living here can just walk in," I squinted without turning back to look at him.
He chuckled, "You agents worry too much."
I turned back darting an icy stare at Picard.
He laughed, "Chill, the people here thinks I am a police officer. They know me as Captain Picard. I most times just lock the door behind while I am indoor and when I am leaving, I don't always leave that there."
"Alright then," I said calmly.
"So what now?" I asked.
Picard seemed to be going through some files scattered on the table. He finally pulled up a red envelope and passed it to me. I walked to him and took it out of his hand.
"What's this?" I asked as I opened the file observing each page I opened.
"Well, the prince does have ties with the Halo and we need to make sure he doesn't give that order tomorrow. You need to be there at the precise moment to pull the trigger," Picard explained carefully.
I saw the image of the hotel I saw on the tablet Mark gave me. "This hotel?"
"Yes," Picard said. "The ambassador and the prince are both staying at the Continental Swiss. The prince can't just pull the trigger by himself so we believe he will try and stage an attack that will make him seem like he was in danger as well."
"He could just poison the ambassador. They have been going out together a lot judging by these pictures," I said with my eyes bulged.
"Well, they stay in the same hotel and they are both here to have talks with the French government. Besides, poisoning him won't send the message," Picard explained.
"So when is the hit supposed to happen?" I asked.
"In less than two days. I suggest you get enough rest. You must be exhausted from your journey."
Picard pointed to the way leading to the room, "You can use that one on the left. It's tidy and doesn't smell like shit."
I smiled at his remark as I carried my bag and walked towards the room. I opened the door and it really looked tattered. The ceiling was roughly patched and the window was just covered with a removable glass. At least, it didn't smell like shit just like Picard said. The bed was the only thing that looked new. I pulled my shoe off, tossed my bag on the bed and pulled out the burner phone inside the side of my boot. I dialed Ella's number. I was missing Nene and I wanted to talk to her. I could only do that if I called Ella's burner. After a few seconds, she finally picked up.
"Hey, how was your trip?" Ella asked.
"Great. How are you?"
"I am okay. Nene already called. She told me she couldn't reach you since evening so I told her you were out with some of our friends," Ella explained.
"Ohhhh thanks. That means a lot."
"One more favour. Can I talk to her now?" I asked politely.
"I will try her cell now," Ella said. She dropped the burner and I could hear her using her phone to dial Nene. She put her phone on speaker and I was able to hear it ring. It took a couple of seconds before she finally picked up and it sounded like she was already asleep.
"Hey, Ella," Nene said.
"Hey, sorry did I wake you?" Ella said.
"Nooo I was reading and I had to speak quietly because I didn't want to wake my friends," Nene replied.
"Well, he is here," Ella finally said.
"Ohhh pass him the phone, thanks," Nene said.
Afterwards, Ella called my name like I was beside her. Since I could hear them both because it was on speaker, I just spoke directly.
"Hey bunny head," I said as I laid down on the bed.
"Hey. I have been trying to reach you all day. Is everything okay?" Nene asked.
"Oh.... I am okay. Everything is just fine," I said trying to hide the deceit in my voice.
"How is the love of my life?" I asked as I laid on the bed tired. This was something I wanted since I had arrived in France, taking to the love of my life in the city of love. I laid there as we chatted and laughed feeling the excitement in the atmosphere.
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Aftermath: Inception 
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