Mosley stepped forward to catch himself fully in the mirror, rubbing his jaw to see if it was time for a shave. Not yet. Then it was off to work for him. Another uneventful day at the airport but he must show concern lest he appear as an unmotivated employee.

He saw his friend Anton across the way speaking with an old woman, her hair turned fully white and her cane barely providing any support. Probably another one whose gotten lost. "Thank you young man." Was all her heard as she walked off towards the gate. No bag so she must be picking up someone.

"Another day another dollar eh Mosley?"

Anton repeated that same damn phrase every morning. "Yup. Gotta get that dollar." And every day Mosley had to come up with a new way of responding. He was running especially low on social patience today. "What was that woman looking for?"

"Gate number 2, all the way on the other side of the terminal. I felt kind of bad I couldn't go with her. Hope she finds it alright." A few moments later an alarm went off and a radio call came in. Apparently another celebrity thought themselves above the rest of us and is now making a scene. So much for an uneventful day. Even though he's just an idiot with an ego, they are instructed to keep to protocol, which meant one of them had to leave and the other stay. Before Mosley could volunteer, "I got it, you stay here!" Damn.

A few more people had their bags checked in before Mosley saw someone he recognized. It was the old woman from that morning, and she was waiting just inside, Gate number 8. Anton still wasn't back yet, and he's not supposed to leave that post unattended, but if he didn't go that old lady would be waiting for the rest of whatever was left of her life.

Mosley did his best jog over to her, "Ma'am? You're looking for Gate 2? Is that right?"

She turned to him, her eyes barely showing through her loose skin, she smiled, "Oh no dear, I'm just the distraction." And then she turned back to what Mosley now realized was reading the arriving flights on screen.

His heart began to hit hard. He held his radio tightly in his shaking hands, "Anton, come in." Nothing. "Anyone, what's going on with the code?" Still nothing. He ran out to the sound of police sirens and in the distance could make out a thick of black smoke on the road, like a car accident had just occurred.

"Mosley! There you are!" His boss was shouting, his face burning with color. "You don't leave your post here, ever! What the hell were you thinking? Where did you go?"

Mosley almost explained about the old lady, but knew that's not what the boss what really asking. He wasn't asking anything at all. "What happened?"

"Someone was killed, they think it was a targeted attack." He wiped his sweat with the radio antenna, "Tell me you at least saw something so I don't have to fire your ass." When Mosley didn't respond, they both knew he was done for. His boss held out his hand. "Radio and badge. Return your uniform tomorrow."