Even if she caught up, it might not matter. The people who grabbed the toy looked abnormal, and they could have been patients who escaped from a hospital. A man and a woman ran off in opposite directions, and the girl's mother, the strongest one there, did not chase them, nor did Bella, who had strong nerves but no reason to get involved.
The young girl, however, was quick-thinking. She had already positioned herself to the side and suddenly stuck out her leg, tripping the woman who had taken the toy car. The girl's mother sighed, but since the woman was already down, she could not ignore it and ran over.
She used a standard military hold to subdue the woman and snatched the toy car back from her. It was a clean win, and the child got his toy back. Even though she suspected the toy car hid some secret, Bella was ready to leave, since she was just a passerby with no reason to waste more time here.
She heard the flight announcement and said goodbye to the family of five. Before leaving, she added, "My suggestion is that you call the police as soon as possible. These people clearly had a strange target." She took out a note, wrote quickly, and handed it over.
"Nice to meet you. I am IsaBella. Swan. This is my phone number. If the police need confirmation, you can contact me anytime." For no clear reason, she handed the note to the young girl, perhaps simply because the girl looked good.
The girl introduced herself as well. "Natasha Romanoff." Bella's eyes immediately turned strange at the name, and she forced herself to stay calm while looking the girl up and down.
She asked hesitantly, "What year were you born?" If a man asked that, it would be awkward, but between women it passed. Natasha, unprepared for the question, answered casually, "1984. And you, Miss Swan?"
"I am from 1983. You can call me Bella." "Nat." Natasha Romanoff's reply was short and confident, with a sharp edge to it. The conversation ended quickly, or rather, Bella hurried away.
With Natasha already appearing, would Hawkeye or Tony Stark show up next? Whether she was young or old, born in 1984 or 1884, it had nothing to do with her. As an ordinary person, Bella decided it was best to stay far away.
Inside a shop, she bought a stylish pair of sunglasses for her cheap old dad and quickly forgot about Natasha.
She found her boarding gate, but just before stepping forward, a sudden Omen made her stop. Her mind filled with broken images of disease, decay, disaster, and killing, some vivid and some flashing past like slides before vanishing.
Her palms were soaked with sweat, and her heart raced at an extreme speed. It felt as if she had received some kind of information that her human brain could not fully understand. Sweat ran down her forehead, her lips parted, but no sound came out, as if an invisible hand had seized her very soul.
"Passengers on Flight 180, please prepare for boarding." The announcement played as usual, but to Bella it sounded like broken electronic noise mixed with faint static, as if a powerful device nearby was interfering. Voices suddenly rose around her.
"Why is she standing there?" "Is she about to have some kind of episode?" The noise snapped her out of the strange state, and she barely regained control of her body. She turned stiffly and saw a group of men and women, led by an older teacher, passing by her.
Some girls who thought themselves pretty looked at Bella with pity. A country girl who had never flown before, they thought. The middle-aged female teacher stopped and asked, "Miss, do you need help?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I am fine!" Bella almost jumped in fright. She looked at the plane, the light rain outside the window, and the clock on the wall, unable to calm down. She stepped aside, her memories vague, but her intuition clear.
She could not get on this plane. If she did, she would die. Watching more than forty young men and women prepare to board with excitement, she hesitated again and again before speaking up.
Bella stopped the teacher. "The rain is getting heavier, and the flight was already delayed for an hour. Maybe, maybe…" She trailed off, unable to find the right words. Murmurs spread through the students.
"She is crazy." "Her clothes are so outdated, like she has never seen the world." "She might have a point. The rain really is heavy today." They were about the same age as Bella and treated her as a topic of discussion.
Those who supported caution were mostly boys, while the mocking voices came from girls. After seeing the girls' attitudes, most of the boys quickly switched sides. Bella tried again, her voice unsteady.
"I am serious. I have a very bad feeling about this plane." The teacher cut her off and said in a tone full of forced kindness, "Miss, I suggest you see a doctor. You are young, and early treatment helps. All right, everyone, follow me."
She ushered the students onto the plane, and Bella's warning was forgotten. The forty passengers were already chatting about their trip. Bella let out a long sigh, her heart tangled with doubt and fear.
Was she remembering wrong? Would getting involved bring trouble she could not handle, from society or from something beyond it? Did it matter to her whether Americans lived or died?
She quickly decided it did not matter where they were from. It mattered that they were people. Looking at the white-haired elderly and the infant in a mother's arms, the last bit of justice in Bella won out.
In her view, the chance of this plane crashing was over ninety percent. She could not stand by and watch them walk to their deaths. She began urging passengers again and again, trying to convince them not to board the plane.
"Please listen to me. For the sake of the child in your arms, think carefully. The rain outside is too heavy, and taking off in this weather is not safe."
"Sir, I mean no harm. I only hope you will listen to me, Mr. Ward?"
"Ladies, don't you feel anything at all? That sense of danger about to arrive, that Omen. If you pay attention, I believe you can feel it too."
Bella did her best to persuade the passengers around her, but this was exactly the kind of situation where she had no solid proof to offer. She could only keep her tone sincere and her attitude as calm as possible. As long as someone was willing to listen, she patiently asked them to wait for the next flight instead.
Her earnest voice slowly caused a few passengers to stop and hesitate. More people, however, remained doubtful, and a small number had already started making sharp remarks. Insults followed one after another and landed squarely on Bella.
"Miss! If you are not boarding, then leave immediately. Our airport does not welcome you!" Airport Security rushed over aggressively, and a large Black security guard pointed hard toward the exit to signal her to leave.
Only then did Bella realize how passive and inefficient it was to speak to people one by one. She could go directly to the official airport authorities instead. The thought gave her a small burst of hope.
"Where is your supervisor? I demand that he organize maintenance staff to inspect the plane right now. A single check will not take much time. This is our right as passengers!"
Her words sounded very American and full of talk about rights. Four or five people began to voice their support quietly, and an elderly man with a white beard and hair also said the airport should act with caution. He stated clearly that passenger safety was the airport's responsibility and that the plane should undergo a full inspection.