Project Aries

“You don’t have to grip the armrests, you know,” Jasmine commented as she glanced to her left at Fern. Her body was incredibly tense as she sat in the seat on the airplane, her eyes constantly darting around and taking in every movement that the flight attendants made.

“I’m nervous,” Fern replied in a hushed voice and Jasmine’s eyes flicked to look at the ceiling as she sighed.

“Well you’ll have to look a bit more relaxed otherwise they’ll think you’re suspicious and up to something,” she said and Fern’s eyes widened, much to Jasmine’s surprise as she had thought they were already as large as they could get.

“They might? What would happen then?” she hissed before smiling as calmly as she could at the flight attendant who strolled past her seat.

“Not too sure,” Jasmine shrugged as she thought back to the last time she had seen an airplane on the news. “I guess they would detain you and search you for bombs, weapons, drugs, all that sort of thing, and keep you grounded until they realised that you were just scared.” Fern frowned, wishing that Jasmine could provide comfort like any other normal person would.

“That’s not helping,” she pointed out.

“Okay… It’s not that big of a deal,” Jasmine tried but Fern winced.

“It is for me, okay?” she retorted, frustrated that she felt as though she was being thrown in the deep end with no rope to hold onto. Her parents had never spoken of flying, claiming that they had never been on a plane but Fern now doubted that, and none of her friends had earned enough money to afford a flight, so Fern had nothing to base her thoughts off aside from it was the unknown and an old technology. As Fern drummed her fingers against the armrests and creased her forehead harder, Jasmine felt pity and sighed as she pondered what would be the right thing to say.

“You have nothing to be afraid of. You’ll only feel the movement during takeoff and landing, when we’re changing speed dramatically. Other than that, you won’t even be able to tell that we’re some thirty thousand feet in the air,” Jasmine said, attempting to reassure Fern.

“Thirty thousand feet?” she groaned in response and Jasmine resisted the urge to put her face in her palm.

“Like I said, nothing to worry about, okay? This plane has been on a bunch of flights and the pilot and crew have too. Nothing is going to go wrong,” Jasmine continued and Fern glared at her.

“Unless something does happen to go wrong, and we fall from thirty thousand feet in the air into the Pacific ocean!” she panicked, pausing to run a hand over her stressed face.

“All right, not helping…” Jasmine muttered to herself as she tried to think of a way to link Fern’s new task of being an agent with ridding herself of the unreasonable terror. “What about if you think of where you’re going to end up in ten hours? Would that do the trick?” Fern hesitated, a crack breaking through her anxiety as she pictured the crystal clear water, luscious and dense greenery, and warm winds coming from the sea.

“I do really want to be there… Even if it means another assignment,” Fern breathed and Jasmine grinned.

“I’ll make sure Iris gives us some spare time to explore and relax,” she said and Fern perked up.

“Can you really do that?”

“Of course, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our assignments,” Jasmine shrugged. Fern went off into her own world of imagining seizing the opportunity of travel and enjoying the next segment of her time with Project Aries, and Jasmine watched on with a tiny smile, pleased that she had been able to console Fern and make her a calmer passenger to sit next to. A flight attendant interrupted her daydreaming as she paused before their seats with a broad smile.

“The aircraft will be lifting off in just five minutes. Please remain in your seats until the captain advises otherwise, and I hope you enjoy your flight to Hawaii.”

Fern gasped with delight as she walked into the hotel room after Jasmine. It was the most luxurious room she had ever been in, and it was difficult to think that it was truly hers. Whites and soft shades of brown made up the majority of the colour scheme and dashes of reds and oranges were thrown around the room in the forms of cushions on the couch, a miniature glass dolphin ornament on the bedside table, and the flowers in the tall vase on the dining table. Though the room was breathtaking, it had great competition with the panorama view from wall that served as one gigantic window. Fern felt like a queen as she stood before the ocean, watching the waves roll on the white sand and people engaging in a variety of activities in the sun.

“Oh, crikey… Fern, get in here!” Jasmine called from the bedroom and Fern hurried to join her. “Look at this!” She gestured at the wardrobe and Fern immediately spotted the two dresses hung on display on the outside.

“I could get used to this…” she muttered as she spied the brand name on the first dress, recognising it as a new designer who was taking the fashion world by storm. It was a black dress with a halter neck, a gap just below it designed to flaunt the wearer’s chest before pinching in at the waist and cutting off mid-thigh.

“I’m definitely taking that one,” Jasmine said, reaching out and grabbing the hanger of the black dress and holding it against her body.

“I don’t think so. It’s stunning, I want it!”

“That one won’t go with my skin tone at all,” Jasmine countered with a gesture at the second dress. It was a mixture of light blues and soft greys, and bunched beneath the bust in a crisscross pattern. The material across the one-shoulder strap was crinkled to match the bottom half, which would also reach down to a modest yet alluring height on the wearer’s thighs. Fern swept it into her arms and crossed the bedroom to the long mirror where she held the dress over the top of her tank top and shorts, approving of the image.

“I’m not going to argue,” she decided before turning back to face Jasmine, agreeing that the black was going to complement her more than it would for herself. “We’re going to look gorgeous. And I’m never going to let this dress out of my sights; it’s coming on the flight back home.”

“You wish,” Jasmine scoffed before hanging her dress up in the closet. “But clothes like this means that there’s a mission. I highly doubt Iris is just being nice to us.” The words were like a heavy blow to the guts as it sunk in that Fern wasn’t in a heavenly new country and glamorous hotel room just to be on vacation. She had a purpose, a no doubt unpleasant task she had to take care of while in Hawaii, and she could only hope that it would not ruin her stay.

“Where’s the file then?” she questioned as she walked back to the wardrobe and hung her dress up, the excitement having vanished completely.

“It’s in here!” Jasmine hollered from the living area and Fern followed her through, joining Jasmine on the couch to read over the mission information and goals. The following night there was to be a party on the beach, not far from their hotel, hosted by Digital Leather who were holding their position as one of the biggest rock bands this decade. They were surrounded by controversy, with accusations thrown at them for numerous incidents, and the most recent and seemingly accurate one was that they had been holding onto money that was a promised donation to rescuing the Hawaiian sea turtle population. After one of their main food sources had become scarce and caused a rapid decrease in the turtle’s numbers, Digital Leather had responded to fan’s pleas to lend a helping hand and gained a great deal of publicity for it. Someone had contacted Project Aries to investigate, with the proposed solution being a suitable transaction from the band’s bank accounts to the sea turtle scientist’s research fund.

“So let me get this straight…” Fern began as she pulled away from hunching over the cream folder. “We go and serve drinks to a famous band during their party, find a way into their hotel room, wire a few transactions to help save the sea turtles, and no one gets hurt and we have a fun time?” It sounded too good to be true, and she feared that there would be some bad news awaiting her on the next few pages.

“I think that’s all there is to it…” Jasmine confirmed before flicking through the next couple of pages. “This is all details on the boys in the band…”

“No fatalities expected or allowed?” Fern asked and Jasmine nodded.

“We’ve gotten lucky, Fern,” she said with a smile and they exhaled as they sunk into the spongey couch, pausing to take in the joy and relief.

“So… How are you going to style your hair?”

The sun was low in the sky, casting an orange glow across the water and the beach. Young adults danced on the sand in skimpy overpriced outfits to music with thumping beats, somehow avoiding all of burning torches that had been stabbed into the ground around the party area to keep it lit throughout the evening. A barbecue sizzled exotic foods at the hands of a Hawaiin chef and behind the portable bar stood Jasmine and Fern in their dresses that made them feel like a million dollars. It had surprised Fern that drink mixing had been deemed an essential skill for an operative to have, but she wasn’t complaining. She enjoyed tossing around the containers and pouring the most colourful and exquisite drinks she had never set her eyes on, and it was tempting to take a sip of every concoction she brewed to see exactly how good she was.

A laughing young man with sandy blonde hair approached the bar, an unzipped leather jacket sprayed with fluorescent colours revealed a t-shirt with printed art on it as he strutted towards Fern. She recognised him from TV, the internet, the Sphere, and the profiles that had been printed in the cream folder. Oliver was the lead singer of Digital Leather, occasionally dabbling in rhythm guitar, and as the frontman of the band he had been taking a lot of flack for the sea turtle issue. His jawline was just as sharp as his ID photo had suggested, and his blue eyes were striking when he leaned against the bar and looked up at Fern.

“Could I grab a Mojito, love?” he asked and Fern temporarily went blank, having not heard of the drink before. A second later she had found the recipe on the microchip and beamed at the rockstar.

“Absolutely,” she said as she reached for the container of fresh mint leaves and tossed a couple into a new glass.

“Are you born and raised in Hawaii?” Oliver guessed and Fern grinned while levelling a spoon of sugar.

“I’m not, actually. I came here to work,” she replied without lying.

“And I came here to party,” Oliver countered and they shared a laugh. “Where are you from then? You are stunning, but I can’t place your accent…” Fern paused, holding onto a couple of lime wedges as she stared the confident celebrity in the eye, contemplating what she should say.

“I’m not telling,” she teased, attempting to copy Jasmine’s smirk before focusing on making his cocktail. She lifted the wooden muddler from its holder and began crushing the ingredients together, releasing their flavour. Though this wasn’t her first cocktail of the night, she was still surprised at how natural her motions were as she grabbed ingredient after ingredient.

“You’re frown Down Under,” he guessed and Fern hesitated, making eye contact again.

“By that do you mean Australia or New Zealand?” she inquired and Oliver shrugged with a small wince.

“Australia?” he said, dragging the word out and exposing his uncertainty.

“Nope!” Fern replied with a giggle before gesturing at Jasmine at the other end of the bar as she passed out beers. “That babe’s from Aussie, and I’m a Kiwi.”

“Damn!” Oliver exclaimed before laughing. He ran a hand through his hair, creating some volume while Fern added a dash of white rum. “You’re really pretty, love. You should be out dancing with me and the band, not stuck behind this bar.”

“I bet you call every girl ‘love’ don’t you? Just to get them out there dancing and drinking with you,” Fern countered, noticeably taking Oliver aback by not accepting his compliment. He recovered his composure quickly and leaned closer to Fern as she stashed the rum on the shelf below the bar.

“Okay, I’ll let you in on a secret…” he proposed, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. “I do. I call lots of chicks ‘love’. But only because it can make their day, and that’s worth it to me.” Fern gave a short snort of laughter, not believing him.

“So you have the power to make their day because you’re handsome, rich and famous?” she clarified and he laughed, full of pure amusement.

“Wow, you tell it how it is, don’t you?”

“We apparently don’t deceive people as much Down Under,” Fern shrugged as she shovelled a scoop of crushed ice from the freezer compartment, adding it to the glass.

“I like it,” Oliver said with a smile. “Honesty is the best policy.” Fern had to resist commenting about the hypocrisy in his statement. His tone was so honest that it made her wonder if it wasn’t necessarily Oliver who was behind the failure to donate to the sea turtles.

“Though it sometimes is better to lie,” she countered and Oliver raised his eyebrows, watching as Fern filled the glass up with soda.

“Like when?” he wondered, genuinely intrigued by Fern and she knew it.

“Like when you call someone ‘love’ to make their day, love,” she answered while sliding the drink across the counter to him. Their eyes were both initially focused on the drink but flicked up to look at each other when she finished speaking. Feeling that there was no need to continue their conversation, Fern left Oliver and walked over to Jasmine who was wiping down her workspace to mop up a small spill.

“How’s it going?” she questioned as Fern straightened a couple of colourful umbrellas that rested in a short glass. Fern stole a glance over her shoulder and spied Oliver still lingering by the bar, his eyes on her as he lifted the drink to his lips.

“I just had an interesting chat with Oliver. I think I might be roping him in,” she answered and Jasmine grinned.

“Great. Keep up the good work and we’ll definitely succeed,” Jasmine nodded.

“How about you? Made any progress?”

“Not with the targets,” she said before gesturing with her head towards the man who was the drummer. Hunter was the only band member to not be wearing a leather jacket, opting for shirtless instead, and Jasmine had already served him and his friends numerous shots. “My best bet would be him. He’s most likely to be completely wasted when we make our move.”

“Fair enough. Though you’re so warm and charming I’m sure you won’t need him to be intoxicated,” Fern pointed out and Jasmine glared at her, shooing Fern back to her post while giggling to herself. Fern relaxed back into the swing of serving the partygoers until Oliver returned, waiting for her to finish with her current customer instead of going to Jasmine for his alcohol.

“Hello again, love,” Oliver greeted her with a cheeky grin and Fern couldn’t help but smile.

“What can I get you, love?” she asked and he slid onto one of the barstools, making himself comfortable.

“That Mojito you whisked up was brilliant, I’d like another,” he replied and Fern grabbed a clean glass.

“You know, my Aussie friend makes them better than me…” she trailed off.

“I want yours,” Oliver insisted and Fern smirked before beginning the preparation. “So how are the parties Down Under? As raging as this one?” Fern broke her gaze from the ingredients to take a look around them at the dancing and drinking young adults on the beach.

“This is an all right party…” she shrugged with a lack of interest that only further intrigued Oliver.

“Only all right? Hey, Digital Leather know how to throw parties, and this one deserves a higher rating than just ‘all right’,” he replied.

“It’s a fantastic setting, I won’t deny that,” Fern agreed before hesitating. “But the people… It’s just lacking something. No one really knows each other, so there’s a lack of connection and friendship and therefore it’s less of a good time.” Oliver paused as she reached under the bench for the bottle of rum and then he turned, taking in the party and noticing what she was saying.

“You have a point…” he muttered as he swivelled to face her again. “Do you know what would make this party more fun?” Fern grabbed a scoop of crushed ice and shuffled it into the glass.

“What?”

“If you would come out from behind that bar,” Oliver suggested but Fern winced.

“Can’t,” she declined with a shake of her head, flicking some curls over her shoulder. “It’s against the company’s policy to drink with clients, and we’ve been hired to work your event until midnight.”

“So what, once the clock strikes twelve you turn into a pumpkin and run home?” he joked and Fern chuckled.

“I don’t think you’ve got the fairytale quite right…” she remarked while topping the drink off with soda.

“The point is that you can hang out with me after midnight, right? That wouldn’t be breaking any rules, would it?” Oliver asked. Fern hesitated and looked over at Jasmine as she poured another round of shots for Hunter and his entourage of scantily dressed blondes.

“I’d have to check with Jasmine… Would she be able to stay too? I think she kind of wants to get to know Hunter a bit better…” Fern proposed. She then pushed the drink across the bar, leaning onto the bench and attempting to lure Oliver despite her dress not flaunting her chest like Jasmine’s did.

“Of course. I can talk to Hunter too, if you’d like. Anything to get you to stay.”

“Why?” Fern asked as Oliver took a sip of his Mojito.

“Why what?”

“Why are you interested in getting your bartender to hang out with you?” she questioned out of curiosity. It ultimately didn’t matter as her mission required her to socialise and be invited back to their hotel, but she was interested in knowing what about her had caught the rockstar’s attention.

“Because you are the first person for quite a while who has spoken to me with honesty instead of sugarcoating everything with lies,” Oliver shrugged as he shifted out of his seat, a sudden timidness washing over him. Fern felt a pang of guilt even though she had not yet stolen money from him, and she diverted her gaze to the bench as her mind went blank. “I’ll be back when I need another drink.” Fern looked up and they shared a smile.

“I’ll look forward to it,” she said softly before he left and mingled into the small crowd. He repeatedly visited her as the evening went by, interrupting conversations with Jasmine or other clients, but Fern was happy to devote her attention to him. Whether it was just the way he naturally was or the alcohol, Oliver was kind and stuck to his honesty is the best policy attitude whenever they chatted, as well as throwing in plenty of jokes to keep Fern smiling. She often caught Jasmine’s eye and her approving grins which only encouraged her to continue to impress Oliver.

“Hey love, I believe it’s one minute past midnight,” Oliver told her, shouting over the music that someone had just turned up. He leaned against the bar for support as Fern gave it a quick wipe down, feeling her cheeks redden. “Hey! Stop already, I’m not paying you to work overtime!” He reached out and placed his hand on hers, instantly ceasing her movement and forcing her to look up at him. The torches nearby gave his face a romantic orange glow and his eyes were full of mischief.

“All right, all right… I’ll just get myself a drink…” she muttered before sliding her hand out from beneath his. Fern grabbed a shot glass and poured herself a whiskey before swishing it down and grimacing at the strength.

“Can we dance now?” Oliver offered, holding out his hand. Fern accepted and allowed him to lead her into the middle of the gathering. Most people had broken off into couples, either disappearing from the party entirely or attempting to hide their hookup amongst the palm trees just up the beach, so barely anyone remained and the few that did weren’t paying any attention to them as they danced and talked. Jasmine had locked away the bottles of alcohol, aside from one that she had allowed Hunter to steal, and the pair were taking turns at downing bitter mouthfuls of tequila. Fern frequently visited Jasmine to chat and take the bottle herself, but once she noticed that Jasmine wasn’t swallowing after bringing the bottle to her lips, Fern stopped drinking and joined Jasmine by also pretending. Jasmine had been forceful, demanding Hunter’s entire attention once he had approached her thanks to a brief chat from Oliver. She had essentially scared off the drunk girls and demanded that Hunter got close to her on the beached log they were using as a chair. After a lot of loud giggling as Hunter whispered in her ear, Jasmine stumbled across the sand to Fern, crashing into her and then using her for balance.

“I’m gonna go to Hunter’s room at his fancy hotel,” she slurred and Fern tried her best to not laugh at how ridiculous Jasmine looked and sounded. For someone who was so serious, it was shocking to see her this way, even if she was just faking it all. “Can you guys come back too? Is she all good to come?” Jasmine had turned to Oliver and he was smirking at Fern.

“What do you say, love? Want to head inside?” he offered and Fern giggled as she nodded, feigning her interest.

“Come with me, I need to get my clutch,” Jasmine insisted as she pulled on Fern’s arm, dragging her away from a grinning Oliver and towards their bar. Once they had ducked down behind it, Jasmine grabbed onto her black clutch that she had stashed in a hidden compartment for safety and she lost her drunken persona. “Here, put this in.” She had reached into her bag and retrieved an earpiece.

“Why?” Fern wondered, taking the device and placing it in her ear regardless of her doubt.

“We’re clearly going to get separated. If we need each other’s help, this will be the only way we can communicate,” Jasmine explained.

“Got it.”

“And this has all of the assisting coding to hack a computer and then someone’s bank account,” she continued as she passed over a USB.

“Okay. Anything else I need to know?” Fern asked as she stashed the USB in her bra, a crease of worry crossing her brow.

“Just keep on deceiving him. I’m sure you’ll have access to his computer in no time, and if not then I should find Hunter’s. We’ll be out of here in no time,” Jasmine reassured her before standing back up and swaying, back in her charade. Fern followed suit and bounced back to Oliver, allowing his arm to slide over her shoulders and lead her a few blocks down the road where their beachfront hotel was. Their rooms were on the third floor and were styled as an apartment. Four separate bedrooms lead into the shared lounge and kitchen area, and one of the bedrooms had a great deal of grunts coming from it.

“Fortunately, my room’s that one,” Oliver said to Fern as he gestured at one of the doors across the lounge from the noisy bedroom. She smiled and quickly scanned the communal area and failed to spy any laptops lying around. With a fake confident smile, Fern spun and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Could you give me a few minutes?” she asked, hoping it would be that easy.

“Yeah, sure,” Oliver agreed. “Would you like a beer? Or wine, I think we have wine…” He trailed off as he looked to the kitchen, trying to remember what was in the cupboards and fridge.

“You know, wine would be nice,” Fern replied with a smile and Oliver leaned down, giving her a kiss that was took Fern by surprise at how soft and relaxed it was, a contrast from the sloppy, urgent one she had expected from the intoxicated man. They broke apart and Oliver walked towards the open plan kitchen, Fern hurrying off to his bedroom. She caught a glimpse of Jasmine and Hunter in an entangled embrace shuffling over to his room and she began to wonder what exactly Jasmine’s plan was. Fern closed the door behind her and inhaled deeply as she tried to shake off her nerves. The night had flown by, no doubt due to a combination of anticipation and entertainment as well as apprehension from her mission, and now she was finally at the crucial stage of the night.

Oliver’s room was a pleasant mix of messy and tidy. The bed was a little rumpled from his previous nights’ sleep and a few items of clothing were hanging out of his suitcase, but the suitcase itself was placed proportionately between of the chest of drawers and the bedside table, and Oliver’s laptop was aligned neatly on the desk alongside a notepad with a few lines of new lyrics. Fern ordered herself to stop being intrigued by Oliver and instead she forced herself to walk over to his laptop. Once it had awoken, she removed the USB from the top of her dress and inserted it, relieved to see the band of black appear on the left side of the screen. Already confident she could perform the task, Fern relaxed and began to type. As she started to crack Oliver’s online banking account, glass shattering outside the room jolted her out of her mindset.

“My bad!” Oliver called from the kitchen and she almost chuckled before she remembered why she was here. It wasn’t to drink and socialise, it was to stick to her mission. When the programme cracked his password and security questions, Fern’s eyes enlarged at the massive figures that aligned with his multiple accounts. It absolutely stunned her but then made her feel a lot less guilty of stealing from Oliver. Her fingers skimmed the keyboard and set up the transaction of the generous donation to the sea turtles. With a spark of ingenuity while she waited for it to process, Fern flicked the notepad to a clean page and scribbled a note, ‘Thank you for your generous donation to the sea turtles. I’m glad you wanted to prove to me how you help them!’ and then hid it by replacing the lyrics on top. She was hopeful that Oliver would be drunk enough to not remember much, and hence blame the missing money on himself instead of becoming suspicious and accusing her and involving the police.

“Come on…” she muttered as she watched the loading icon turn. Fear set in as she wondered if the website had detected the hacking software, but then the new page loaded and declared the transaction as successful. Fern breathed a sigh of relief and commanded the programmes to shut down. Green codes were still on the screen when the door handle started turning and Fern froze, distraught and clueless on what to do.