The flight over the Atlantic

Once the plane took off and was at altitude, the steady hum of the engines filled the cabin as we leveled out, the wings slicing through the sky. The hum was soothing though irritating at the same time. Boats across the ocean took forever and a land vehicle wouldn’t work due to being the wrong vehicle to cross the ocean so a plane was the best way to get back to Ontario

Suddenly, I heard the muffled sound of an explosion.  A bright orange fireball erupted violently on the ground, tearing through the area with incredible force. I saw the reflection of the fireball from the window. The reflection immediately made me look down to the general area from where the explosion was.

Far below, the landscape stretched out in a quiet, sprawling grid of roads and buildings, dotted with the tiny, faint pinpricks of streetlights. I knew right away that Marlon had taken care of the car. Marlon not only took out the car but several buildings as well. He always helped me out and always stuck to our plans but he gets slightly carried away.

"Wow!" I said.

Unfortunately, it got Mike’s attention. He immediately shifted in his seat and looked out his window as well, searching the ground below. It didn't take him long to spot the massive, flickering orange glow. He watched the flames dance from the distance as a thick column of smoke began to plume upward into the air.

"That is impressive," Mike said, his voice quiet as he stared at the where the explosion took place. "Is that the car we used?"

I just nodded my head to confirm that it was. I kept my mouth shut, leaning back into my seat. I was trying to look casual while my eyes subtly scanned the cabin. I looked at the seams in the wall panels, the overhead light fixtures, and the small air vents, wondering if there was a hidden microphone tucked away somewhere out of sight. I didn’t know if the plane was bugged or not, but after living my life traveling back and forth between different countries, I wasn’t going to risk saying anything until I knew it was safe. Mike kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

A few hours later, I raided my bag to find my equipment to detect listening and recording devices. These were my personal devices and were a higher quality than the ones provided to me from the Italian government. As I stood up from my seat, I turned the devices on and went through the main cabin of the plane. I didn’t find anything so I headed towards the bathroom and didn’t find anything there either. Despite not finding anything, I still didn’t feel comfortable discussing anything about what I did since landing in New Zealand. I’d be more comfortable either out in the open at a large field or at my home. However, if it were at my house, I would have to check my house first though.

Mike eventually fell asleep. I stayed awake as I can’t sleep in a plane. I familiarized myself with the plane and due to this phone that Roberto gave me, I was able to pull up the plans of the plane without using internet connection. I wanted to see if there any places that I may need to relocate if anyone on board – crew or otherwise – knew of my identity and wanted to blow it. I ended up connecting my phone to the outlet connected to my armrest and pulled out a book. I was almost done with it by the time he woke up.

“Hey,” Mike mumbled as he was waking up. “Where are we over the ocean?”

“Just halfway over,” I sighed. The pain and the pressure that I was feeling so soon after the surgery was super uncomfortable. I groaned in pain. I knew that I need to take some kind of pain relief medication and there was no way that I was going through customs on strong pain meds from Sera and Elena’s plastic surgery hospital. I got up from my seat, grabbed my crossbody bag and started for the galley. “I’ll be back momentarily. I just need to stretch my legs.”

Mike nodded though he knew something was up. When I arrived at the galley, I spoke with the head flight attendant.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m in seat 3A and I’m getting a little hungry. I also have a bit of headache and want to take some Advil – my doctor wants me to eat before taking it. Are you able to drop a snack and some water off at my seat while I’m using the bathroom?” I asked.

“Yes, Duchess,” he said.

“Shhhhh, Martin!” I quietly begged as I read his name tag. “I expect the staff to know my identity due to my passport but I don’t want the rest of the travelers to know. A pseudonym that I’ve used in the past is “DeppGrl Smith”. My travel companion has known me as that for years and just recently found out my true identity. Can you please speak with the other flight attendants about this? I’d be appreciative of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Smith,” he said. “I understand your request for. And yes, I’ll talk to the rest of the flight attendants and pilots about this. I’ll ask the pilots to contact ground control when we get closer of your request to be more anonymous.”

“Thank you,” I said. “No rush to get the snack and beverage to my seat as I’ll be a few minutes. If my travel companion would like anything, I’ll pay for it as well. I’ll make sure I square up long before we land.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

I headed to the bathroom. When I got in, I closed and locked the door. I hung up my purse, lifted my dress and released the drains in my breasts that Dr. Aris and Dr. Welsh inserted. I sighed in relief that some of the pressure was released. I knew that I’d feel better once we landed and used ice. I knew that Mike needed to be shuttled to his place once we landed and I would need to be brought to my local hospital to be checked out as I fear for a possible infection. I closed the drains, washed the areas, used the bathroom, washed my hands, grabbed my purse and left the bathroom.

I made it back to Mike about fifteen minutes after I left him.

“All ok?” he asked. “I asked the flight attendants about you and they all said that you were ok.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sighed. “I needed to take care of a few things from my surgery a few days ago.”

“Holy fuck! Are you ok?” he asked.

“Sore but fine. Once we land, you’ll get brought home and I’ll head to the hospital to get examined again,” I said. “It wasn’t life threatening surgery.”

“Necessary?”

“Yes, necessary. We’re leaving it at that.” I said. “As for stuff about New Zealand and everything after that, it’ll be a conversation for another time.”

He nodded as I sat down. The head flight attendant came around to drop off meals to both Mike and I. When he arrived to me and was placing food and a large bottle of water, I gave him four hundred and seventy five euros. He opened his mouth and before he could say anything, I did.

“I can’t thank you enough for your kindness for bringing meals to us. I hope it’s enough for the food, beverages, the time it took for you to heat everything up and bring it over,” I said as I handed him the money. With my other hand, I slid five envelopes under the fabric that covered the card he used for the other flight attendants. However, there was only three hundred euros in those envelopes. I had given Martin four hundred to cover the small cost of the food (which was about twenty five euros) but he had received more due to being the head flight attendant as well as speaking to the entire flight crew with my request to be called ‘DeppGrl Smith’. He didn’t have to but he did.

“Thank you, Ms. Smith,” he said with a wink to acknowledge the envelope under the fabric. “I appreciate you paying for your meals before leaving as well as the generous tip.”

I nodded my head.

“What was all of that about?” Mike asked as he was eating.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” I said.

I opened my food to see that it was eggplant rollatini in a marinara sauce, tortellini in a cream sauce, garlic bread and a side salad. It was great as plane food goes but too salty for my liking. I thought that I should see a cardiologist while I was at my local hospital after getting checked for infection from my plastic surgery locations.

After eating and having some of my water, I took the bottle of Advil from my purse and poured three onto my hand. I closed the lid, popped the Advil into my mouth and took a swig of my water. I tossed the bottle of Advil back into my purse, twisted the lid of the water bottle back on, reclined my seat and closed my eyes. I hoped that this would relay a message to Mike that I wanted to get some sleep. Thankfully, it worked. I heard him begin to snore minutes later. After he was asleep for an hour, I got up and went to the bathroom again. The pressurized air was beyond uncomfortable on my stomach and breasts but not so much my eyes.

Once inside the bathroom, I lifted my dress to access the drains in my breasts. I opened them and released the drainage. It was slightly pink but looked good. I closed them, washed the area around the drains and rinsed the sink. I adjusted my dress and headed back to my seat. My tray was cleared and put back as was Mike’s. I sat down and pulled up the screen in front of me to see what the status was of our flight. We were ninety minutes from Newfoundland, Canada. I forgot that we had a quick layover there before flying to Ontario. Usually there is a layover on the way to Ontario from Newfoundland but I felt that with my Russian diplomat status, we could get a direct flight there. Again, I called out to all of the deities I could name in eighty five minutes.

I had another fifteen deities to name before we landed but I was able to finish when Mike, the rest of the passengers and I collected our personal belongings from our seats and overhead bins.

"Finally, that's done," I said, slinging my pack over my shoulder. "I actually managed to name all eighty five."

Mike rolled his eyes playfully. "I still don't know how you got through all of them with a crying and screaming baby two rows back."

“It wasn’t easy,” I said. “I hate screaming and crying babies.”

I thanked each cabin crew member as we exited. "Thank you so much, have a wonderful day," I told them as we stepped onto the stairs that lead us to the tarmac.

“Unfortunately and yet fortunately, we landed but we in Newfoundland as a layover,” I said. “Clearly, we still need to fly to Ontario. Typically, there’s a layover to that flight as well but I’m hoping we get a direct flight.”

"A direct flight would definitely make things easier," he agreed. "How long of a flight is it?"

“It’s a nine and half to ten and a half hour flight,” I said. “It varies on the weight of the plane and the weather.”

“Let’s hit customs and get our tickets,” he said.

I nodded in agreement.