Chapter 3: Bathroom Brawl

The airport was crowded, and Bart couldn’t walk two steps without looking over his shoulder, afraid he was about to be snatched from the thoroughfare and carted away somewhere by giant thugs who were about to beat his ass.

He had on a disguise that should’ve made him unrecognizable to anyone who’d followed him from the hotel, but he’d have to take it off before he went through security so that he would match the picture on his passport at least a little better than he did now. He’d gotten in the car looking like Rome and gotten out with red hair and freckles. He had no idea if Rome’s dad would have people looking for him, too, or just Rome, but he didn’t want to find out.

Bart scoped out the line to get through security and saw that it wouldn’t take him too long to get through since he had no baggage and had pre-check to go through the shortest line. He found the bathroom closest to the line and looked around one more time before heading to the door.

He almost bumped into another man heading into the same room. He looked a lot like Rome. Clearly Italian, with the same build, his hair a similar shade of light brown. “Excuse me,” Bart said, gesturing for him to go first.

“No, excuse me. Please,” he said, his thick Italian accent letting Bart know he was a local.

Thanking him, Bart went into the bathroom first and headed for a stall where he could take his disguise off in relative seclusion. He’d just walked into the stall and locked the door when he heard a commotion outside of the door.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

It sounded like the same man Bart had just encountered on his way in. A nervous anxiety bubbled up inside of him. Afraid to peek out, he listened intently to the kerfuffle, wondering what was happening.

“Free ride is over, Verona. You’re going home now.”

“Verona?” the man repeated. “You are talking to the wrong person. My name is Marco Rossi. Let go of me!”

“You feel that piece of cold steel in your back? Shut up, or you’ll be feeling a bullet instead.”

“I no want any trouble,” Marco said, and the next thing he knew, Bart heard them dragging the man out of the bathroom.

Sweat beaded up on Bart’s forehead as he thought about what he’d just escaped. Would they have nabbed him instead if he’d still been dressed like Rome? Probably. With any luck, Marco would be set free before they could get him out of the airport. He felt horrible for the man but wasn’t sure what to do.

Fortunately, he heard another man on the phone in the stall next to him, and though Bart’s Italian wasn’t very good, he understood that the man was calling the police, letting them know he’d just overheard someone being kidnapped in the bathroom at the airport. Maybe they’d catch up to Marco before he was harmed. Certainly, Rome’s parents would recognize the error when they saw that the person their thugs had brought in was not their son, but that didn’t mean Marco wouldn’t get hurt. At this point, Bart wasn’t sure what Monty Verona was capable of.

Bart tore his disguise off and rushed out of the stall, washing his hands as if he’d used the bathroom, and shoving the plastic bag he’d carried in his pocket that now contained the costume deep into the trash can. He ran his damp hands through his hair, trying to style it slightly different so he’d look similar to his passport picture but not exactly the same in case some of Verona’s thugs were still hanging out at the airport and might be looking for him.

Satisfied it would do, he took off for the security line, thinking he’d need to hurry and get through before the thugs realized their mistake and came back after him. His scheduled flight wasn’t supposed to leave for two more hours. He’d wanted to give himself plenty of time in case he had to do a bit of running around like a wild goose so that he could be chased, but once he finally got through security and everything else he had to do to get to the plane, he decided to see if he could get on another flight. He didn’t care where it was headed to, as long as it was North America and it was leaving soon.

It cost him a pretty penny, but ten minutes later, Bart found himself standing in line to board a plane to Chicago. He was just about to board with the other first class passengers when he saw two large men in suits walking through the boarding area, closely looking at every face. With a deep breath, he turned and looked straight ahead, handing his boarding pass over to be scanned and then thanking the pretty Italian woman who ushered him in saying, “Enjoy your flight.”

He would enjoy his flight, once it took off. Landing, on the other hand, would be another story. He prayed no one would be waiting for him at the airport. Surely, Rome’s dad wouldn’t be checking to see if Bart landed in Chicago.