Seanday Shorts: Observe and Report, Pt2

Read Part One Here

I gasped drawing air through Stanchik's lungs--my borrowed body. He had the stamina for another session with Reynolds, but I had a schedule to keep--Britain was waiting. My orders were to take the place of a British agent. S.C.A.R.P., they trusted no-one with their skin-suit technology.

"Ok, enough," I said pushing him away. He fell backward and looked at me.

Reynolds sat on his bed, a grin on his face. "I never guessed you were--"

I cut him off, "I'm not. Just wanted some relief before I left." Reynolds nodded, but I could see he doubted my words.

After cleaning myself up, I pulled on the dress shirt and pants. In the mirror I plucked at the seams, the appearance was important to Stanchik.

"Reynolds, wash my kit. Make sure you put it away--tidy." He collected my discarded fatigues, saying nothing.

---

It was a brisk, confident walk to the officers quarters to meet the developer. Keeping in character I saluted all the officers I passed.

I arrived to find an older man waiting by the jeep. He was in his early forties, with a heavy build--a soldier that had let his physique slip from his hands. I tossed my luggage into the back and he offered a hand. "Richards. Greg Richards," he told me as I shook his hand.

Driving to the airfield, he asked my name. "Seth Stanchik," I replied.

I loaded our luggage into the waiting transporter. Its interior was vast and filled with cargo destined for an American base in Britain.

The crew was small, just four people located towards the front of the aircraft. We sat in some temporary seating among the freight.

As we reached cruise height, Richards leaned forward. "Who do you work for?"

"I work for the president," I replied, drawing it from Stanchik's personality. I never give away my real identity. Richards leaned back and nodded thoughtfully.

An hour into the flight, I could feel my legs tingling--I needed to stretch them. I walked towards the rear of the aircraft running my hand along the covered freight and come across one of the crew. He continued to check a linkage in the floor, I nodded and turned, starting to walk back to Richards.

I heard a noise behind me, and then a striking pain ripped through my head before I fell into darkness. I flinched  inside Stanchik, I tried to move, but I was unable to move. I had no option and pulled myself from the soldier's body.

Ahead I could see the crew member, he was leaning over Richards with a knife to his throat. With three steps I was behind him, with a fourth I was inside. Blinking I looked down at the horrified Richards, I dropped the knife and swayed a little. "S.C.A.R.P.?" he whispered to me.

I nodded. "Go check on the soldier," I told him. As Richards checked the Stanchik, I pulled the crew members mind apart.

"Stanchik will be OK, this guy knew what he was doing. What's the story with this guy," he asked gesturing at the body I was wearing.

"K.L.M." I replied. I didn't have to expand further, Richards knew how close he'd come to being executed. The brief mentioned earlier assassination attempts.

"He was going to kill you and sabotage the flight." I picked at my eyelid and pulled, the delicate skin separated and ripped down my cheek. I pulled the loose skin and the young crew man's face pulling it free. I held it in my hand, looking at its disfigured features; the black hair, eyebrows and gave it to Richards.

"Take a sample, we didn't know their tech was this advanced."

Richards studied the mask, pulling a watchmakers magnifying glass from his pocket. "Its good," he muttered, "but it's delicate--easily ripped. Where's the real crewman?"

"Dead, this guy replaced him three days ago." I pulled up one of the tarpaulins and pulled out a nondescript box. I opened it carefully; inside a steel container, a display continued to countdown. On a small keypad, I tapped out the disarming code and made the device safe.

"We need to secure this guy," I told Richards. I checked through a wall mounted cabinet and found some cable ties. I took a seat and told Richards to tie my arms and legs when he was done, I jerked and struggled to free myself. Satisfied, I pulled myself free of the enemy agent.

His eyes blinked open and were full of anger when he looked up at me. "You'll never win, they'll be others and you won't know who they are until it's too late."

I returned to Stanchik and gently shook him. He let out a groan, and I pushed back into his body. Getting to my feet I cussed under my breath as I tried to rub the dull ache from my borrowed head.

The K.L.M. agent sneered at me. "I know who you are, everyone will know," he muttered.

Without warning, I swung a punch catching him on his chin, and he went limp in the chair. "I'll go talk with the rest of the crew, they're clean. He was working alone."

The captain came back see for himself. He held up the mask and looked at the agent, "I've known him for six months--he was a good man." He shook his head is disbelief, "They replaced him three days ago? I--I didn't even see any change. And the explosives, christ!"

"We have a particular--department for this type of agent," Richards told the captain. "I'll contact my people and they'll come and pick him up."

The captain nodded, "Of course."

As the agent started to come around, I tapped his mouth. "We've got it in hand sir, just get us to our destination."

After the captain had left, Richards leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "I'm glad you were here, thank you, soldier."

I nodded, "No problem sir, it's what we do."

END OF PART TWO