Jamie looked at the woman that was going to be his teacher at the new School.
He did not like what he saw.
But Lizzie and Daniel was already taking place inside the van, and Mrs. Audrey were standing and waiting for him and the others.
Jamie sighed and adjusted his rucksack.
"Well, shall we go?" he said and nodded towards the van.
He walked over to the car and past the woman when he felt a cold chill down his spine.
He didn't turn to her side, but he knew that she was watching him.
Jamie looked away and placed himself in the middle seat.
Daniel was listening to his music, but Lizzie were more active.
She twisted in her seat and adjusted her hair, leaned forward between the seats to Jamie.
"So here we go!" she said happily.
"Here we go..." Jamie answered in a sigh.
Lizzie sank back to her seat. She twisted her face in a weird grimace.
"Humdrum...!" she muttured. Sorry for being glad!
Lizzie hadn't given up yet though. She had decided long ago to make new friends.
Jamie was probably just tired, but he wouldn't get away that easy.
-----------------------------------------
A man was standing inside one of the toilets of Stavanger Airport.
A pile of clothes were lying next to him, among them service clothes and a reflective vest.
He was still wearing a name brick.
CortÈz. Pedro
Pedro was now dressed up in a pair of blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a camouflage military west. Large breast muscles pressed the shirt outwards. His hair was watercombed backwards. Under the west, he wore a weapon belt. In it was a 9mm silenced Beretta. He felt the black, cold metal against his waist.
Pedro was done. He locked up the door and stepped outside.
He went to the mirror and washed his hands, when he noticed the name brick still were haning on him.
A name.... a false name.
The man was Pedro CortÈz. But in the same way he wasn't. This was another man.
The real Pedro wasn't around. He wasn't even on the airport.
Infact, the real Pedro CortÈz was lying on the bottom of the harbour, tied up and with an anchor chained to his legs. He had been lying there since 05:00 in the night.
It had been an easy but affective job.
Pedro CortÈz was a normal man with a normal job in a normal town. Perfect.
The new man, that had stepped out of Pedro's clothes, looked at the name brick in his hand. Then he threwed it in the bin and walked out of the toilets, lit a cigarette and set course out from the airport.
Pedro CortÈz was not neccesary anymore.
He wouldn't be missed until the next day...