The Barcode (Part 2)

- How did they disappear like that?

- I don’t know. But it seems to me this is not a very good sign. Who are they, anyway?

- I don’t know either, but I'd love to find out...

- I don’t think we will meet them again. Unless…

A disturbing thought crossed the mind of the boy wearing glasses, interrupting the flow of words. The other young man soon realized what he meant and shook his head negatively.

- No... no... no... I can’t believe it. It cannot be…

He scratched his head, as if looking for a way to get rid of his bad thoughts.

- Or can it?

- We both know very well that everything is possible... every and anything!

- We won’t have time to find out anyway. We’ve got to go back to the Army tomorrow... Thankfully...

- Or not…

- What do you mean by “or not”?

***

- Be quiet and still and I'll let you go free. Promise you will not scream. I don’t want to hurt you... unless it is really necessary... and if it is, you know I will really hurt you.

She agreed. He loosened the hand and arm slowly, allowing her to be freed, but under his careful vigilance.

- Are you insane? You cannot expose yourself like that. Have you realized you’d be risking ourselves, running through the crowd like that? Do you know the danger in which we have been placed?

- Apparently the one who was too exposed was not me. Look at you. Why were those two guys following us? It did not seem to me it was merely by chance...

- They're just a pair of nosy young men. We can handle it, but not now. We have more important things to deal with. Our task is more vital now. Time is not standing still and we are running out of any left very fast.

- This is really essential or is it in fact a big mistake? Or perhaps it is just a whim, not wanting to accept the inevitable?

- Whim? Survival is a whim, now? And where does this doubt came from, like this, out of the blue?

She looked at the big man, seriously and firmly. Her face was grave and somewhat challenging. Deep in her eyes there were traces of a sad awareness. The right seemed no longer so right and the obvious was not so obvious anymore...

Her eyes seemed to defocus and her expression changed suddenly, from defiant to wistfully anguished.

- I still cannot say for sure. Something tells me that this sacrifice will not bring the expected result.

That evidence of a doubtful mind, her speech and her behaviour were not normal and neither showed a good sign to the man...

They were not actually trained or programmed to question the purpose of a task assigned to them. Either they would go ahead to full completion or they would jeopardize much more than the simple conclusion of a considered too important mission.

To ensure survival at any cost was definitely a great responsibility... and not just for the two of them... only perhaps it would never be seen as such... unfortunately...

That was the heroic and sad fate of the anonymous soldiers.

***

- Our flight is only late this afternoon. Let's put our things together and spend the afternoon at the Public Marketplace, one last time. From there we’ll go straight to the airport.

Although it was not his favourite place, the young man wearing glasses agreed with the friend’s plans. He was hoping to meet the girl with braided hair, but did not express his desire aloud. The other thought his lack of protest was unusual, but kept quiet. He wanted to enjoy the last few hours on the island before heading back to their normal hard lives. Maybe they would not come back so soon ... maybe they would not come back ever again...

- Let's 'check out' and leave so we can make good use of the time we have left here.

Shortly after, the two friends went out with rucksacks on their backs toward the Public Market. In the minds of the two there were different purposes, mixed with some authentic concerns.

***

- It's almost time to go back. We have to leave here and complete our task as soon as possible. The two most populous cities of the country are already prepared. We just need to 'pull the trigger', so to speak. Also we no longer need to come back here. We will be taken back from there... the two of us... apart from each other...

- I don’t want to go. I do not believe we will succeed in this crazy enterprise...

- And since when you have this option?

- And what if it does not work? What if…

The man interrupted irritated.

- If this... If that... too many IF’s! We’ll only know IF we finish what we've come here for... This is the only IF that really matters! Now, stop this nonsense and let's go!

***

- Don’t you turn around now. Pretend you are interested in something else right there in front of you.

- Okay, but tell me what's going on...

- Barcode is enough of a hint to you?

The boy wearing glasses stopped, as if frozen. His disappointment for not having seen the girl at the Public Marketplace disappeared immediately. For some strange reason he felt a shiver going up and down his spine.

- They are going to different doors. I think they will split. She is coming to this side, closer to this door. You can look now… but just turn around very carefully…

The boy wearing glasses pretended to be distracted and looked toward the door, where passengers began queuing in response to the call that had just been heard from the speakers of the small airport waiting room. The two friends rose and followed the line, showing little interest in almost everything except to the girl with very black hair, a dozen steps ahead of them.

Soon the door opened and the passengers moved ahead, crossing it after showing their documents and proceeding to the aircraft that had just been prepared to take off in minutes. The shaven-headed man drove a last stare at the girl, who walked through the door and proceeded forward, without looking back. The man was probably making sure that she would not give up.

The two young men crossed the sliding door soon after, with their eyes fixed on the girl wearing the hair arranged in a long dark braid, who could hardly hide an unusual and intriguing tattoo. They quickened their pace to get closer and observe where she would sit. Maybe they could get in touch somehow...

When they reached the small door of the large airplane, the slow agglomeration of passengers organising their hand luggage and looking for seats distracted them.

- Good afternoon. Welcome. Seats, please... that side, please.

The flight attendant directed the passengers through and separated them in two rows, in order to expedite the boarding. The two young men were then more concerned with allocating their own luggage above the seats. The boy wearing glasses hastened to leave the backpack in the overhead compartment and to seek, quickly, for a known figure more in the background, before taking his own seat.

- Excuse me. Excuse me, please…

The flight attendant went on with hurried steps in the direction of the rear of the aircraft. The hair tied neatly in a bun behind her head barely hid a small dark mark... a tattoo...

The boy wearing glasses was livid when he saw her approach the dark haired girl and give her a small package. The girl looked at her with an uncertain air and sat down, very serious. The other woman was positioned in the back row, where she could watch that specific female passenger very closely...

- Sir, please sit down and fasten the seat belt. We are ready to take off...

The young man sat down and whispered to his friend:

- There is something very wrong here.

Then he told his mate what he had just seen and they both agreed that they were witnessing a strange sequence of events. Halfway through the flight, when things looked more controlled, although still intrigued and when returning from the toilet, the boy wearing glasses felt someone walked past, bumping him the moment he bent over to ward off the seat seatbelt before sitting back down. He moved his body to the front and let a girl pass by.

- What's that falling out of your pocket?

The boy pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket, which was not there before. He unfolded it and saw a small note written with a not very common lettering, almost too farfetched.

“Wait outside the airport, at the arrival gate, where the taxis are. I need help.”

At then end and right below the strange note, there was a small mark he soon recognized and which caused him a lot more of a usual concern. He handed the paper in to his friend and the two looked at each other without saying anything, recognizing a small bar code placed as a signature to that unusual message...