Eventually, Amos leaned slightly toward West. "...Your awakening."
West glanced at him. "...What about it?"
Amos adjusted his glasses. "Was there a trigger? Something that caused it? A catalyst?"
Westâs expression remained neutral. "...It just happened."
Amos frowned slightly. "Hmm, I started conducting this research because I wanted to help people obtain a shred of power that awakeners have. Iâve tried as much as possible to gather all I can on awakeners and you all seem to tell me the same thing as regards to your awakening..."
West shrugged. "I guess thatâs all there is to it. People donât choose to awaken, you know? It just happens to them..."
Amos didnât press further but his curiosity about the matter lingered.
Of course, West couldnât tell him he didnât actually awakened naturally... he could never tell anyone.
...
...
The flight was supposed to be last an hour... but thirty minutes in, West stood.
"Iâll be back."
He walked toward the restroom, stepped inside, closed the door, took care of what he needed to, washed his hands and looked up.
His reflection stared back at him and in his eyes was a glint of danger.
He dried his hands, stepped out and walked back down the aisle.
However, when he arrived at their seats, Debra and Dr. Amos were gone.
Westâs eyes narrowed slowly upon noticing that the seats were empty.
"...Tch... this is starting to get really annoying..."
Although the seats were empty, he didnât worry much because they were in a plane mid-flight.
There was no way anyone was getting off a plane at this altitude.
West proceeded to head down the aisle, ignoring the curious glances of passengers.
His senses spread outward, searching for anything out of place. Soon, he turned toward the front section before stopping.
A faint scent of blood oozed into his nostril causing his gaze to sharpen instantly.
"...There."
He moved again, slipping past a half-closed service corridor, pushing the door open just enough to slide through.
â
Elsewhere, Debra stumbled forward slightly as the cold metal of the gun pressed harder against her back.
"Keep moving," the man behind her muttered with a tone of excitement.
Dr. Amos limped beside her, breathing roughly while the man with a axe shaped mark on his left cheek, laughed greedily.
"Yes... I hit the jackpot," he nudged the gun forward. "I knew staking out the airport with my guys would pay off."
Debra bore a terrified look while Amos grinded his teeth.
"You donât know how much they put up for you two," the man continued. "Do you have any idea how valuable you are right now?"
He pushed them into a more secluded section of the plane... an area near storage compartments, away from most passengers.
"Heyâ!" a voice voice suddenly rang out from behind.
"Youâre not supposed to be back hereâ" an air hostess stepped forward, frowning.
Pfft!
A muted shot drizzle out and her body dropped instantly.
She was dead and thanks to the silencer there was almost no sound.
The man didnât even spare her another glance. "...So."
He adjusted his grip on the gun. "Where were we?"
He stepped closer to Debra. "I need you to hand over all files and data on the assimilation research."
His tone sharpened. "According to reports... Dr. Debra has them... so hand them over."
The gun pressed harder.
"Or you both die. Right here. Right now."
Debra swallowed.
"I donâtâ"
Pfft!
A shot rang out and Dr. Amos instantly screamed.
His leg gave out and blood burst from the wound as his body collapsed to the floor.
"Donât make me ask again," the man voiced calmly.
Debraâs eyes widened as tears formed instantly. "I donât have it!"
"Wrong answer."
Pfft!
He shot at the second leg causing Amos to cry out again. His voice broke as both legs exploded with agonising pain, causing blood to pool beneath him.
Debra dropped to her knees beside him.
"Iâm not lying!" she cried. "I swear! Itâs not on me!"
Her voice trembled.
"I have it stored somewhereâbut itâs not with me!"
The man stared at her with a disappointed look. "...Oh well."
He sighed. "I guess thatâs fine too."
He raised the gun again with a small smile on his face. "Even if both of you die... weâll find it eventually."
He aimed while tightening his finger around the trigger... however, before he could pull it all the way down, a hand shot out from behind, gripping his neck.
He was instantly slammed sideways.
BLAM!
His face smashed into the side of the plane and blood exploded outward as the impact cracked bone and skin alike.
The gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor.
Before he could react, he was lifted again off the ground.
West stood behind him with a cold and deadly look.
"You shouldnât have done that."
The man coughed violently with blood spilling from his mouth.
He then began to laugh in amusement. "...So itâs you."
Westâs grip tightened. "...What?"
"The awakened..." the man rasped. "The one intelligence mentioned."
A grin formed through the blood. "The one who protected them... from Nightingale."
Westâs eyes narrowed slightly. "...Who cares."
He raised his hand, ready to end their brief encounter but the man suddenly yelled out.
"Donât... itâll be in your best interest not to kill me."
Westâs expression didnât change as he slowed a bit.
"I didnât come alone," the man added.
Suddenly, figures stepped out from corners, behind compartments, from blind spots and even the economic class up ahead.
They all had guns raised, aiming forward.
Westâs eyes flicked around, counting them. They were no less than ten in number.
"Youâre strong. I can see that," The man grinned wider as blood dripped from his chin.
"Youâll probably survive if the ten to one clash but what about them?"
His eyes flicked toward Debra and Amos.
"When bullets start flying..." his smile widened. "I can guarantee you...one of them dies."
"or maybe both," he added. "Just let me go and things donât have to escalate any further."