“Flight 809, Los Angeles to Atlanta, now boarding.”
“That’s my flight,” Brian Littrell said, standing up and slinging
his backpack over on shoulder.
The first leg of the Backstreet Boys’ Black and Blue Tour
had finally come to an end, and the quintet was splitting up, heading for
different flights to take them each to their homes. Brian’s flight home to Atlanta, Georgia was
the first to take off.
Nick Carter, Kevin Richardson, Howie Dorough, and AJ McLean stood
up with Brian. The five men exchanged
quick hugs.
“You take care, cuz,” Kevin said to Brian.
“Say hi to Leigh for us,” Howie added, referring to Brian’s wife,
Leighanne.
“Bye, bro,” AJ said, patting Brian on the shoulder.
“See ya, Frick,” said Nick, Brian’s best friend, giving him one
last hug.
“Okay. Bye, y’all,” Brian
said, smiling at his five bandmates and best friends. Then he headed to a terminal, where a woman
was taking people’s boarding passes. He
looked back just once, waved, and headed on his way.
***
Brendan glanced around quickly, to make sure no on was
around. He was in luck; the phone bank
where he stood in a small corner of the big Atlanta airport was completely
deserted.
Brendan adjusted the do-rag on his head so that it covered all of
his hair, and slipped a pair of dark sunglasses on so that no one could see his
eyes.
Picking up the receiver of one of the pay phones nearby, Brendan
deposited a quarter, pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his coat pocket, and
dialed the phone number written on it.
The phone rang a couple times, and then a woman answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey, Leigh,” Brendan said warmly. “It’s me, Brian.”
“Hi, honey,” Leighanne Littrell greeted. “Where are you calling from?”
“I’m in LA. Look, honey, my
flight got delayed, so I won’t be in Atlanta for another…” Brendan looked at his watch quickly, “… two
hours.”
“Oh.” Leighanne sounded
disappointed. “Well, okay, honey. I’ll be at the airport to pick you up at six
then, okay?”
“Okay, babe. Gotta go
now. I can’t wait to see you,” Brendan
said.
“Oh, me neither, hon. Love
you.”
“I love you too,” Brendan said through gritted teeth, and hung up
the phone.
“Flight 809, Los Angeles to Atlanta, now arriving,” projected a
voice through the intercom.
Brendan grinned evilly.
“Show time.”
***
“Thank you for flying Delta airlines,” said a perky
stewardess. Brian nodded in
acknowledgement and continued on his way out the plane and into the
airport. He was finally home in
Atlanta, and he was glad. He couldn’t
wait to see his wife, Leighanne. After
months of being on tour, he missed her like crazy.
But when he made it inside the airport, he saw no sign of his
wife. He looked all around the waiting
area at the gate where his flight had come in, but she was nowhere to be
found.
Puzzled, Brian checked a large clock hanging on the wall
nearby. It was exactly four o’clock in
the afternoon; his flight had been right on time. So where was Leighanne?
Brian figured maybe she was just running late and decided to sit
down and wait for her. The gate where
he was standing was filled with people meeting friends and relatives that had
been on his flight, so, not wanting to be mobbed by any fans that might
recognize him, Brian headed down the hall in search of somewhere isolated where
he could wait.
He walked through the airport until he came to a an empty waiting
area. He took a seat in a corner,
letting his backpack fall to the ground.
Maybe I should call Leigh, he thought
suddenly. Maybe she had forgotten what
time to pick him up or just lost track of the time. Deciding that calling home was a good idea,
Brian pulled his cell phone out of his backpack and turned it on. As he was pressing the speed-dial for his
home number, he did not see the figure rapidly approaching him.
Brian watched as the seven digits of his phone number appeared in
the little window on the phone, and started to place the phone to his ear. But when he looked up, he gasped, the phone
slipping out of his hand.
There was a man standing right next to his chair, looking down at
him, a sneer on his lips. It was hard
to tell what he looked like, for the man’s head was covered with a bandana, and
he was wearing a pair of large, dark sunglasses. The man was dressed in black, complete with a
black trench coat.
“Can I help you, sir?” Brian asked meekly, reaching down to
retrieve his fallen phone. But as he
did so, the man took a swing, his fist colliding with Brian’s jaw.
Falling back in his chair with a gasp of pain, Brian cowered,
rubbing his jaw. “Wh… what’s going on?”
he demanded, but his voice wavered.
“I’ll fill you in on that later,” the man replied gruffly. “But for now, I want you to come with me. And don’t give me no trouble either, or
you’ll get it later. Got that?” At a loss for words, Brian just nodded.
“What’s that?” the man asked, noticing Brian’s fallen cell
phone. Before Brian could reply, he
picked it up, glanced at the screen for a moment, and put it to his ear. A twisted smile crossed his face, and he let
go of the phone, sending it clattering onto the ground once again. Then, he raised his foot and stomped down
hard on the phone, smashing it with his heavy black boot.
“Come on,” the man growled, grabbing Brian’s shirt collar and
yanking him up. Brian was surprised at
the man’s strength, for he was quite small in stature, no bigger than
Brian. Yet, he seemed to be
stronger.
“Wh-where are we going?” Brian asked, as the man pushed him
roughly forward.
The man chuckled, his cold laugh sending chills throughout Brian’s
trembling body. “You’ll see.”
***