Creative Portfolio

It turns out, chauffeur outfits are not very suitable for Floridian summer afternoons. As the blistering sunlight beat down onto the pavement, she did whatever she could to keep herself from sweating through her shirt. It was a borrowed suit, after all. She used her flimsy paper sign to block the sun as she peered into the swarms of people streaming out of the airport gates, searching for her client. After minutes of searching yielded no results, she let out a long sigh, fanning her face with the sign.

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“Why did it have to be Florida…” she mumbled. As she reached into the window of the limousine for her water, a voice called out at her.

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“Hey! You, over there. Yes, you.” Shouted a voice from the crowd. She turned and spotted a middle-aged man – sporting a turquoise dress shirt and aviator sunglasses – rushing towards her, a single hand flailing in the air, the other gripped on the handle of a four-wheeled suitcase.

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“Not even a bodyguard? This’ll be easier than I imagined” she thought, with a twinge of relief in her eyes. “Hello sir,” she said in her seasoned work voice, "are you-”

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“Yes, yes,” he interrupted, “let’s get in the car, shall we? I’m in a bit of a rush.”

 

“Of course. I will need you to sign these documents, however. Just a precautionary measure.”

 

He huffed. “Alright. Let’s see here…”

 

As they tried to quickly finish the paperwork, masses of people bustled about around them, each of them distracted, occupied with their own lives and their own problems. However, one man in the crowd was not distracted whatsoever. In fact, he was laser focused on his target, like a hawk watching a mouse scamper across the forest floor.

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“What are they doing?” buzzed the voice in his ear.

 

“Looks like they’re figuring out some paperwork.” He replied, his gaze unwavering.

 

“They must be taking safety more seriously now. Three months ago, you could’ve bypassed their security with a Starbucks membership card.”

 

“Is the team situated?”

 

“Think so. How are you enjoying the weather down there?”

 

“How about you double check? Unless you’ve forgotten about what happened back in Macau.”

 

“Quit being so uptight. They’re in position.”

 

“Good.”

 

He paused. “Are you in position?” He knew she was, but he had to check.

 

An exaggerated scoff blared in his ear. “C’mon, Terminator, I know I’m annoying, but I’m not an idiot.” She said, as she laid on a wooden crate pushed up against the window of an abandoned building. Her rifle glinted in the sunlight, as she peered through its scope pointed across the street at the airport gates.

 

A few moments passed. “Are they done yet?” She asked.

 

“Patience, Rachael.” He slowly prowled through the herds of people, closing in on his prey. Finally, the man put the pen down and got into the car, as the chauffeur slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

 

As the businessman climbed his way into the backseat, his eyes scanned his chauffeur up and down. “You seem a little young,” he remarked, straightening his collar.

 

“It’s my first day on the job,” she replied, recalling the lines she had rehearsed countless times in her head. As the car pulled out of its parking space and began navigating the road, their pursuers rose to attention.

 

“The target is on the move. I repeat, target is on the move.” The man whispered into his earpiece, leaning into the street as the limousine sped away.

 

“Got it. Extraction team is in pursuit.” The voice replied.

 

“You ready?” he questioned.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

Rachael’s earpiece cut off, and he was left alone on the baking sidewalk, his jade pupils still locked on the jet-black vehicle with the determination of a lion in his eyes. Heat waves permeated the asphalt and concrete, making the limousine seem like a mirage, slowly fading into the distance.

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A blaring car horn disrupted his focus. His eyes darted to his left, where Rachael had pulled up next to the sidewalk in her car, her finger impatiently tapping the steering wheel.

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She leaned across the passenger seat. “Get in, Terminator. Are we going to do this or not?”

 

He wrenched open the car door and sat down, disgruntled. “You’ve got to stop calling me that.” Rachael smirked, and stepped on the accelerator, sending the car speeding past the ever-growing crowd. Within a matter of seconds, they had left the airport gates behind.

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The road ahead was completely straight, unwinding for miles. Everything else faded away, as he stared at the target with a flaming intensity. There was only him, and his prey. Nothing else mattered. No obstacles, no distractions.

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He took a deep breath. This time, he wouldn’t fail. This time, he didn’t have a choice.