"Anything to declare, missus? You know the rules, no drugs, paraphernalia or whatsoever on board en-route to the "Land That Never Sleeps"." a rather handsome clean-shaven co-pilot of the A700 AdamJet 4 seater plane.

I unzipped my duffel bag on a GS folding table just outside the runway near the hangars and showed the contents of my bag. It was simply in disarray and my undergarments were on top of that mound. I rummaged and took out my tactical holster with my P320 and 3 magazines with its protruding suppressor and my short 3-foot Kodachi.

I took out my 2 permits dangling from a lanyard around my neck and saw that I"m certified to carry and transport these firearms wherever I go, but the Kodachi remains questionable.

"Whatcha need a sword for the missus?" the co-pilot spoke in his usual Southern drawl.

"Awww... You know, in case I need to chop off some d.i.c.k heads over in New Orleans...hahahahaha."

"You"re a little too cute for someone who carries a sword like that. Reminds me of Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. I guess you had awoken and waning revenge, yea?"

"Yuuuuupppp... Looks like it, handsome. Slash, slash and wham bam boom with my little Ms Sigg here." I tapped on my P320 lightly and was proud when someone compliments on my weapons of choice. By the way, could you do me a favour? Could you make a flypast at Griffin"s and make a little "jiggle with it" with your plane of yours to indicate I"m coming over?"

"Where"s Griffin"s, missus? It"s near the airport and near the lake I suppose?"

"It is near a lake, its Barataria actually. It that a No-Fly Zone, I ask?"

"It"s perfectly fine, missus. We do several low flypasts with this bird. You wanna get some shots from the top view down, yaaa?"

"That"s right, cowboy... Just take a few shots of the area and we could be at the airport to dump me there. There"s a pick up from there and I"d SMS to Leo when I need to be picked up."

"Alright, missus... You could board now if you wish. There"s a bottle of champagne waiting for you, courtesy of Fasuto j.a.pan Airways... Hahahahaha... That"s my other novel, dimwit...! And we would be taking off once we got the clearance.

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"Alright, don"t mind me..." I blew him a kiss and walked with a spring on my heels. I"m not sure why I"m so happy about... Maybe I heard about Fasuto j.a.pan had existed right to till date... I don"t know. Maybe...Well, champagne and ice cream is served on board now... It won"t harm a girl to be enjoying her party a bit earlier, would it?


I walked up to the springy side retractable door that was made into steps after fully brought down. I peered inside and said to myself, "Welcome to Fasuto j.a.pan Airways... Please present your boarding ticket and our stewardess would a.s.sist you to your seat and store your baggage... *ding* *ding* *ding*."

I had to bend myself a little as I entered and I found that the plane was like 1.5x the length of a saloon car. Its interior was between plush and executive with single recliner seats with fairly s.p.a.cious legroom. There"s a bunch of red and purplish grapes on a platter and an I have got a bucket with a Moet and Chandon on it.

PERFECT...!!! I"m a liking to my part of my mission already and of course...none of these pilots knew what my main job is.

I took out my phone and sent an SMS to HaiLoong and said that I"d be out of town and be back in 3 to 5 days time. It was sent and had not been read by the recipients.

"Yo, Cap"n. Do you need me to switch off my mobile in case it interferes with your nav system?" I hollered out to the pilot who was getting his clearance to take off from the runway.

"No need to, ma"am. It is alright. A small gadget won"t hurt our nav sys at all. Once we hit 10k alt.i.tude, you"d lose signal altogether and regain it back at Orleans." he replied back while turning his head slightly over his shoulders and winked at me with his headset slightly askew on his head.

Hmm, how I"d wish my boyfriend had a plane like this. One chops meat for a living, one is a co-pilot and the other would be a pilot. I wonder what they would do as flyboys on a cowgirl like me... Hehehe... I can"t help fantasizing about being manhandled by these 3 men, on separate occasions or on a foursome... Which would be awesome...!!

The co-pilot entered and pulled the side door close by grabbing the steel wires at the side. I don"t know what it"s called ok. Their steel cables for all I know to keep the door from hitting the ground. That"s all...!

He closed it with a thud and suddenly the interior was being enveloped with silence and a slight him from the two turbine engines. It started with a high pitch whine and then hummed silently. After receiving the clearance from the watchtower, "This is Alpha Seven Zero Zero taxing towards the runway. Alpha Seven Zero Zero request final take off."

I heard the small intercom crackled into activity as the plane started its high-pitched whine and moved away from the hangar once the wheel blocks had been removed and taxied slowly towards the runway.

"Alpha Seven Zero Zero, you are cleared for taking off. Everything is green, I repeat everything is green...!" another voice crackled over the small speakers and I flipped the buckle down and held on to the small table that held the grapes and wonderful Moet in the ice-cold bucket.

The plane stopped and the pilot engaged his brakes as he pushed the throttle to 75% power and let go of the brakes, and the plane lurched forward as it gained distance. Shuddering as if all its bolts and rivets would come loose at any rate of time, a short moments later, the little A700 AdamJet had cleared the ground and headed straight to the sky at a climb of 15 degrees and steadily turned as it climbed to a minimum ceiling of 10,000 feet before the pilot throttle down to 60% conservational thrust rate.

Once the plane had levelled off, I could see sparkles of twilight on the ground as the plane slowly moved away from Atlanta City. I poured myself a gla.s.s of champagne and cheered to the two flyboys in front and their voice crackled saying their thanks and there are not allowed to drink while on duty.

About 25 minutes and half a bottle of Moet had being drunk by me, the copilot spoke up, saying that we would pa.s.s the airport and head towards Barataria in a few short minutes. He said that they would be flying 500feet above the grounds as they had no huge electrical pylons unlike back in Georgia.

I took my P900 and took several test shots and showed the pilots to make a few pa.s.ses over the printed map I had shown here on the starboard side. They thumb up at me and told me we had reached the destination. Under the twilight of the lights on ground and top of houses, I zoomed in to 65x and held on to my shutter release b.u.t.ton and it continuously shot 3 frames per second.

I was practically shooting in the air with my P900 and I wished it was a Gatling gun instead of a DSLR camera. "Were making another pa.s.s, missus..." and I still aimed my camera and capture all the treetops and the 3 villas or mansions that the Were was mentioning and with the 65x zoom, it was so close that I could see dog s.h.i.t splattered on the back of some tyres of their black, ominous Cherokee 4x4s down below. Nothing escaped my P900...!

We made another pa.s.s and I changed to the port side to shoot the pond or lake whatsoever you wanna call it and set it to 50x zoom so I would capture the whole scenes. Coolpix P900 works great in low light conditions and it came up as bright as day even shot from a height of 500 feet in the air at close to 1130pm.

I finally let go of the shutter b.u.t.ton and plopped down on the recliner, poured myself a drink and told the pilots to bring the bird down.

"Ready when you are, missus. It would be a b.u.mp on the road and it"s gonna be a touchdown." the pilot remarked and radioed the tower that it"s returning back to land at New Orleans and since its, a private plane, little or no security clearance was needed at all.

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