Not your typical baby mama

At terminal 5 of the JFK international airport.

A man had a picture in his hand, he stood, while resting his elbows on the glass railing, and looked at the arrivals down at terminal 4. His eyes fell on an ashy gray haired young man who had queued up as well to get his travel documents and luggage checked.

The young man had on a black ensemble: a baseball cap, a shirt left untucked, slimfit jeans, and gumboots; all in black. He was bobbing his head up and down; it seemed he was listening to music judging from the black wireless earsets that contrasted his pink ears.

Although they had a blurred image of him, the young man stood out too much among the sea of men and women who had just arrived in New York. A malicious glint flushed in the eyes of the man holding the young man's picture as he flicked it. He turned back to four of his friends who had occupied a table at the café on that floor.

"He's here", he spoke.

"Where?" One of them stood up and walked over to the railing. His friend openly pointed at the young man. He nodded confirming that it was the person in the picture. It had to be him. He went back to his seat and dialed a number. The person picked up on the first ring.

"He's here. We have eyes on him", he reported.

The person on the other end responded sounding pleased, "Good. You know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

The call ended. He looked over at his subordinates who looked to him for further instructions since he had just communicated with their boss. "You all remember the plan?"

"Yes!" The four answered in unison. He nodded in satisfaction before standing up to go back to look down from the glass railing. He suddenly chuckled in amusement as he locked his eyes on the young man, "He literally just walked into our trap."

Down at terminal 4.

The young man in question moved when someone in front moved on after being cleared. He bobbed his head as he looked around taking in the different men and women queueing up ahead of him. His stomach growled from hunger, after all, he only had that glass of whiskey after spending his energy on that beautiful babe, before he had to leave. There was also that beauty he had promised to have tonight, Dylan sighed.

Growl. His eyes subconsciously glanced up at the café at terminal 5. Something caught his eye. Two men in Black suits were looking down at him and one of them pointed at him. 'Are they.... here for me?' he mused. They could be pointing at anyone, right?

One of the men went back to the café then came back shortly after to join the other man. Was he imagining things or were those two goons watching him? Someone from the front was cleared and Dylan moved. He hoped he was truly wrong; his heart thudded loudly against his chest. His line moved up again, the men never peeled their eyes away from him. Even from a distance, he could tell they had ill intentions. He really hoped they were not after him. But of course, he was wrong.

The moment his line moved up leaving him two persons away from the front, he saw the men signal each other to get a move on. Just like the two that were watching him, three more appeared in the same black suits. They were tall and muscular.

They all kept their eyes on him as they leisurely headed for the escalator going down. The people could not help but stare at these men who did not bother being low profile in their movements. They were akin to five grim reapers descending upon their target. A sinister smile bloomed on one of them when Dylan made eye contact with him.

"Sir?" A woman called out to the absent-minded Dylan; startling him in the process. He was so distracted by those men he did not realize that it was his turn to be inspected.

"Huh?" Dylan looked back at her with wide eyes; she frowned upon seeing this and her voice hinted annoyance when she repeated herself.

"Your passport, sir. And please put down all your gadgets together with your laggage for inspection."

Dylan looked back at the descending men while putting down his phone, earsets, wristwatch, and laptop. He gave them his passport and other necessary documents too. The leader of Dylan's pursuers could not help but feel giddy, once Dylan was cleared, they would move in.

What made it more fun was watching the fear clear on Dylan's features. He had no where to hide; he was like a trapped mouse. They would be there waiting for him by the arrivals' exit. 'This could not be any easier', the leader thought in amusement.

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