Scraps (12) Seriously?
...Or 'unfinished writing attempts'
"What's this classified emergency all about?" I asked Ras.
"Double rank mission. Windstorm at the Canary Islands. Three teams of three."
I raised an eyebrow. "Windstorm. At the Carnary Islands?"
"Are you pulling my leg?"
"I swear I'm not," Ras said defensively. "I just told you what they told me."
He gave me a page of the mission brief as we walked down to the school entrance. I scanned down and frowned at the names written as Ras opened the passenger door of his black Citroen.
"You said three of three. But why is it that I only have him as my partner?" I asked as calmly as I could. No need to panic. I was scowling as he ushered me in before going to the driver's side.
He was still silent as he started the car.
"Don't tell me you are setting us up!"
He sighed. " Before you strangle me, I should point out that it was the president who coordinated this. Basically, yeah, there are only two of you team therefore, eight people not nine are going to enjoy scenic Canaray Islands."
"But whyyy?" I whined.