by Darrell Pitt
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Congratulations.” Twelve shakes my hand. “Congratulations on a job well done.”
I realize it’s the first time I have actually touched the alien. He feels surprisingly human. He gives me a final nod and moves on to shake hands with a very surprised looking Dan.
It’s a party and God knows I don’t remember ever having celebrated another party. I don’t remember birthdays or Christmases or christenings or anything else so I intend to make the most of this one.
Three days have passed since the destruction of Pegasus. Our role in the attack on Typhoid and the destruction of the rocket are still a secret to most of the personnel at The Agency. There are a hundred projects taking place here at any one time and our efforts to save New York City just happen to be one of them.
Brodie sidles up to me. “Looks like we’re suddenly Twelve’s best friends.”
“I think whoever gets the job done is his best friend,” I tell her quietly. “Anyway, the operation wasn’t a complete success.”
I suppose I’m being hard on myself. Typhoid was not finished, but Mr. Jones informed us the organization had been dealt a severe blow; Solomon Wolff was now on the run. Where he would turn up next was anyone’s guess.
So Typhoid was down, but not out as was Wolff. That’s a disappointment. I would have liked to have seen Solomon Wolff languishing in a cell considering everything he wanted to put us through.
Still…
“Stop brooding,” Brodie nudges me. “You saved New York City from certain destruction.”
“Me and another guy. A fighter pilot I never got to thank.”
She presses my arm. “The world is made up of nameless heroes.”
Someone appears at my side. Doctor Sokolov.
I give her a smile. “Come to join the party?”
She returns the smile, but I can sense a strain playing behind the curve of her mouth. “I thought I would add my congratulations to the all conquering heroes.” Her eyes shift to Brodie and across to Twelve. She takes my arm. “Have you tried the canapés?”
The Doctor gently leads me over to the table. I fire a glance at Brodie. I don’t know if she looks troubled or just plain jealous. It’s hard to tell with that girl. The doctor passes me a paper plate. On it sits a cracker decorated with cream cheese and chicken breast.
“These are very good,” she says, her eyes boring into mine. “But you must be careful not to eat them too quickly.”
She smiles and looks over my shoulder with a look of delight. “Harry! I didn’t expect you here today!”
Disappearing into the crowd, I’m left standing there with the paper plate and the single savory. Brodie comes over.
“What was that all about?”
I shrug. “Oh, nothing. She just likes her food. That’s all.”
I hate to lie to Brodie. If there’s anyone I’ve come to trust, it’s her. I would – and already have – entrusted my life to her a dozen times over. Still, someone told me something a lifetime ago that has kept me alive till now.
Trust no one.
I make some more small talk before gently extricating myself from the party and into the gentleman’s restroom. I step into one of the cubicles and pull the savory from my pocket. In the center of it is a folded piece of paper.
On it is written:
Corridor 11E / 16:00 hours
Nothing else.
She’s a woman of few words, I think.
I’m trying to make light of the whole incident, but my stomach knows better.
There’s something seriously wrong here. When I first woke up in that room, Doctor Richards told me I should seek out The Agency. But what did he say?
“Some…at The Agency…will help you.”
Some at The Agency are on our side. But others –
What about the others? Are they our enemy? Who here can be trusted?
Can I can trust Doctor Sokolov? How do I know she’s not some sort of double agent?
My mind whirls in confusion. I stand in the cubicle mulling over my options. In the end I realize there’s only one thing I can do. I have to meet with her. At least I have my powers. I will be on guard the whole time. If she tries to take me down, if it looks like it’s any sort of trap –
Well, I just took down a missile. I think I can handle a solitary scientist.
The next few hours pass slowly. Chad and Dan want me to join them above ground for a throw of a ball, but I tell them I’m busy. I mope around our dorm room until the time draws near. Then I make my way to the junction indicated on the note. When I arrive I realize this point has been chosen for a very specific reason. It is one of the few areas not monitored by security cameras.
No sooner have I found the spot than a nearby door opens slightly. I can just make out Anna’s figure in the doorway.
“Quickly,” she says.
She urges me through the door, securing it behind me. I find myself in a narrow corridor. The silence closes in around me.
“You must follow me,” Anna says. “We will be missed if we are gone for too long.”
“What is this about?” I demand. “I’m not going anywhere until you –”
She grips my arm. “Listen! You and your friends are in terrible danger! If you want to survive you must come with me.”
That’s a hard argument to ignore. I follow her down the corridor. It quickly becomes obvious that this is not one of the regular passageways used by Agency personnel. It is more like a service tunnel used for telecommunications and plumbing. Pipes and air conditioning ducts line the ceiling. The lighting is nonexistent in some places. I half expect someone to leap out of the shadows at me.
Finally Anna stops before a man hole in the floor. She lifts it up, reaches into the gap and flicks a switch. A weak, electric light illuminates a ladder below.
“We must go down here,” she says.
I shake my head. “Not until I find out what is going on. I’ve followed you this far, but how do I know you’re not trying to kill me?”
“You silly boy.” Anna rolls her eyes. “I am trying to save your life. As did Doctor Richards and the other members of the Alpha Project.”
“You mean when Typhoid attacked The Agency?”
Anna starts down the ladder. “Typhoid did not attack The Agency.” She stops to look up at me. “He and the other scientists were trying to save you from it.”
