Chapter 83 Hidden Cameras
THIRD PERSON’s POV.
Somewhere across town, a heavily built man sat with headsets on, his face turned toward a brightly lit desktop screen.
On the monitor, a small group stood along a private road, their movements restless as they spoke amongst themselves. One by one, they began filing back into their cars, engines roaring to life before the convoy finally pulled away.
The man watched in silence. As the security tried to clean the scene while the EMTs wheeled the body of the victim into a privately owned ambulance, he shook his head slowly, and with a quiet sigh, he removed the headset and set it carefully on the desk before pushing to his feet.
The room around him was dim, almost suffocating in its stillness. He stepped into the empty corridor, footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor as he walked hurriedly, like a man on his way to deliver bad news to his master.
He didn’t stop until he reached the brown oak door at the very end of the hall, that’s when he paused, taking a heavy breath.
He knocked…..
A quiet response of, “Come in,” ushered the man from the computer room through the oak doors and into a warmly lit study.
Someone sat behind the desk, slowly spinning in their chair.
“Sir,” the man cleared his throat, “the operation failed.”
The chair stopped spinning.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
“Serena and Damian are alive… and they’ve left for the airport.”
The figure went still, very still.Then he drew in a sharp, measured breath and rose slowly from his seat. He picked the glass of scotch lying idly on the table, studied the amber liquid for a brief second, and in one swift motion, hurled it across the room. The glass shattered violently as it hit the wall.
“Summon Horace down here.” He seethed.
“Immediately!”
~ ~ ~
Damian and his convoy arrived at the airport just in time; a second longer, and the jet's clearance to fly would have been withdrawn.
“Mr. Damian,” the pilot called as he walked out of the cockpit, “so, glad to have you aboard today.”
“Thank you, Steven. Sorry for the delay, we experienced some difficulties on our way.”
Steven waved it off, “That’s fine, sir. If you are all settled then we can take off now.”
“We are ready to take off,” Damian answered.
The pilot nodded slightly and turned back into the cockpit.
In a few minutes, the seat belt signs came on and the jet ascended into the air, slowly.
The private jet hummed softly beneath Serena's feet, the steady sound a sharp contrast to the chaos still echoing in her veins.
Immediately they had boarded the plane, she had excused herself and locked herself in the jet bedroom, not even Trisha’s knocking had been able to get her to open the door.
What was wrong with her? Serena thought. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Damian pulling that trigger? About how the splatter of blood from the bomber's head to his car windshield had made her scream, someone hearing the screams would think she was frightened but her screams were not out of fear but out of satisfaction. Seeing the man who caused them distress take a bullet to the head gave her immense satisfaction and seeing Damian being the one to take the shot was just the cherry on the cake.
“Hey,” Damian’s voice came from outside the door, “you’ve been in there a while, are you okay?”
“Yes I am fine,” she yelled, shuffling behind the door the swinging it open she said, “I just needed to take a breather after all of that earlier.”
Damian stood on the other side,his hands folded in front of him in maddening composure, like he hadn’t just taken a man’s life less than an hour ago. She cleared her throat to steady her breathing.
Damian’s eyes softened, when they set on her, “Of course, would you like a cold glass of champagne?”
“I actually would,” she smiled.
He motioned to the air hostess passing then turned back to Serena with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t make you get out of the car before I launched it into the bomber's way.”
She stared, not knowing how to respond.
“I hope you are not too traumatized?” Damian asked, worried.
“No,” she replied quickly. “It’s the opposite….Of that, actually.”
Damian’s eyes squinted in confusion, “What do you mean?”
She shook her head, “Nothing, never mind, I’m just glad we are all safe.”
“Hmm,” he grumbled, looking deeper into her eyes, “please tell me?”
She melted, her composure cracking wide open. “I’ll tell you when we are settled in the hotel, I promise.”
He smiled and nodded.”A bottle of champagne has been put on ice for you in the main cabin, care to share it with the rest of the crew?”
Damian asked, inviting her back into the lounge area.
She nodded and walked out of the room with him following behind.
“Finally, you are out,” Trisha said when they reached the cabin. “I thought you were going to be scared through the night.”
Trisha’s reaction to the bomber being killed had been normal, expected. She had cried at the sight of the body being pulled out of the car and made puking sounds when one of the bodyguards rolled the bloodied car past them.
Serena had merely mirrored her reaction even though she really didn’t feel that way.
“I was just a little shaken up,I’m good now,” Seren lied,taking a seat. “How about you Trish?”
“I’m just going to have a few sleepless nights, nothing crazy,” Trisha replied and they all laughed.
Amidst the laughter, Oscar whispered in her ear, “If you need help sleeping, I’m always here.”
Trisha knew her cheeks were turning red so she let her dark hair pour over her face to hide her blush.
Damian turned to Oscar, “Has Jake sent any word on who orchestrated the attack?”
“Even if he had, we won’t know until we touch the ground,” Oscar replied. “So relax a bit.”