by C. S Luis
As I came around the desk and peered at the briefcase, a computer screen welcomed me. The words ADA scrawled in an access window sat facing me as I sat down on the black leather seat in front of the desk.
After logging in, another screen appeared and the face of The Man in White popped up facing me. On the side of the screen, a few files appeared.
“Did you enjoy your flight?” Bryce asked.
“Cut to the chase, Bryce. What’s the urgency of this assignment?” I immediately asked. Still upset at the loss of my potential fuck.
The Man in White merely smiled. I didn’t like it when he smiled; it usually meant a bad thing for me. He knew more than me, and I liked being in control. We both did. It was a constant struggle with us. I liked to think he enjoyed it more than I did.
“You’ll have time for your whore after your assignment,” he suddenly answered the apparent. “I want nothing to go wrong. No distractions...”
I wanted to growl back at him. How dare he tell me what I can and can’t do!
“The Alien has been active…He’s returned,” he merely said. The smile, if there had been one on my face, soon vanished. I gritted my teeth, bit my lip, and nearly rose to my feet.
He had been the only one to have ever escaped me.
But he wasn’t my obsession as much as he was Bryce’s obsession. Him or it, a species the ADA & ODA, had become familiar with. In fact, The Company had dubbed them the Classic Q project, classic for their immortality and Q for their quickness, I assume. Sure it was fast, no doubt.
But this thing particularly fancied Bryce, and I didn’t know why. Perhaps it was some sick form of revenge, or perhaps it was the last of its kind, and he had to have it. I didn’t know anything about this thing. All I was instructed to do was hunt and capture it.
The ADA & ODA were two separate divisions among The Company I worked for; one was in charge of acquiring Oddities or anomalies among the masses, and the other division detected and extracted alien life forms.
I worked for both; I was their hunter, or as The Company called us, Venatores. We were not to be confused with men in black; we were something far worse, something to fear. And those who knew us knew always to run. We played by no government agency but were merely funded by an underground network called The Company.
Project X was Nicholson’s top priority. My first encounter with it was in an abandoned building where I had lost my squad. I guess you can say we had a history. Project X was a secret, the darkest secret of the ADA, and it was one I didn’t even know much about. It was that confidential.
“I want you on this one,” Bryce said.
“Why didn’t you say so?” I angrily responded, narrowing my eyes towards the screen.
“We detected something, whether or not it was indeed Project X, we were unsure. But now it has been confirmed. I want you to retrieve him; he’s on the move.”
“On the move, where?” As soon as I asked, a file opened alongside the image of The Man in White. The image was a school, Milton High. I read the small bio beneath.
“What’s this?” I asked, speed-reading through the file, but knowing well enough that Bryce would brief me.
“A high school,” he offered with a curved lip. “The alien has taken refuge in a High School.”
“So then let’s get it. Send a team and take it down. I’ll lead,” I volunteered.
“No more teams. Not this time. We’re both aware the Alien does not respond well to threats. I don’t want a repeat of our last encounter,” he very coldly added. The tone in his voice revealed more; he blamed me for the alien’s escape and for the loss of our combat team.
“Something has lured it. And I intend to discover what,” The Man in White said. “Let’s avoid any and all unnecessary causalities on your part.”
I hated it when he talked to me like he knew better than me. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I wasn’t a fool. But again, it was merely control on his part.
“Is this your idea of easy?” I knew Project X was nothing easy. A lot of men had died the last time we had run into it, a lot of good men, some of the best.
Another image appeared. “This is the principal of Milton High, Dr. Neil Edwards.”
“Where does he come in?” I firmly asked.
“He’s dead,” Bryce coldly answered. There never seemed to be any emotion in any of his words, no anger, no disappointment. I often got worried about if he was even real.
“Okay,” I slowly replied. I didn’t ask what this had to do with me. I knew it was coming. “Project X?” I asked in reference to his death.
“It has not been confirmed, but as of yesterday, he is deceased, victim of a heart attack according to the authorities,” Bryce said. “A man by the name Michael McClellan, although not officially appointed by the School District as his substitute, has been handling the duties of the late Dr. Neil Edwards. They were good friends.”
A few other files appeared alongside Neil Edwards, the file of Michael McClellan, the file of J. Claypool, the file of R. Vasquez, the file of Alice Wallace, all pictured in their school photographs. Two additional files of the security detail the school had to offer appeared. They looked like a happy bunch of pencil pushers. But what did this have to do with Project X or me?
“This is the staff,” Bryce said, and there was a small grin on his face. Or at least I thought there was. I could never really tell. Was he laughing at the confusion on my face? He liked seeing the bewilderment on my features. He liked knowing more than me. He liked the fucking control.
“Study them. Learn everything about them,” he continued.
“Bryce—” I began, but he interrupted me.
“As of today, you have now been appointed, Dr. Neil Edwards’ replacement. You will proceed by the name Dr. John Black. Infiltrate, detect, and retrieve. That is your assignment,” he firmly said behind a noticeable grin.
“Wait! Wait a minute. What are you saying?” I nearly lost it, and my words stumbled out of my mouth with difficulty.
He merely laughed which was strange to hear for the first time simply because his expression didn’t seem to change at all or match his lips.
“I’m no teacher,” I was quick to say. I’m a skilled hunter, a killer. I had no business, no ideas about schools, not to mention kids. The very idea troubled me.
“All the documents that you will require are in the yellow envelope inside the desk’s top drawer.” Apparently, he wasn’t listening to me. I checked the drawer and the envelope was there where he said it was. I opened it, and all the documents I needed to be Dr. John Black, as he had stated were right there.
It seemed that the hard part of getting the position had already had been taken care of by The Company. I was now Dr. John Black, the new principal for Milton High whether I liked it or not. I wondered what my doctorate was in.
“I can’t do this. I already told you. I’m no teacher,” I snarled.
“The job is easy, John. Surely even you can pretend to be someone else for a brief period, for a mere three million,” Bryce said.
“Why me?” I asked, looking for any reason not to take the assignment.
“Very simple: you look the part. And you’re one of my best men. Besides, you know the Alien; you’ve dealt with him. And if anyone can retrieve him, it would be you. I know how much you want a chance to take him down.” Bryce said, almost with a chuckle; he knew it would get to me.
“But like this? What can I possibly do behind a fucking desk?” I snarled in response.
“The Alien is not so easily fooled,” Bryce said as if he knew him very well. It was very possible he did know him very well.
“We need to play the part. He’s there waiting for a reason, and I want to so badly know why. Why is he there? Why now? Infiltrate and then retrieve my prize, and you’ll be greatly rewarded.” he said. “To assure you of the importance of this project, the payment has been raised to five million.”
I nearly choked but managed to keep my composure.
He grinned. “I figured that much. A transfer has been made to your account for the amount of one million as requested. Make sure you bring him back in one piece.”
“I’ll try my best,” I said with a grin.
“Also, there’s an added bonus if you find the source,” The Man in White added.
“Source?” I wondered what he meant.
“I mean, the source that has attracted the Alien to this particular location. I want it as well. If you can find it, well, then you will be a very rich man.”
“How much are we talking about?” I curiously asked, narrowing my eyes at the screen. Bryce now appeared whiter from the other end, almost like the suit he was wearing.
“Another five million,” he said. The smile on my face spread as I licked my lips and took the envelope from the desk. I looked through the items and then put them back into the envelope.
“You’ll have your alien and the source. Have my money ready,” I advised him; he smiled, and his eyes flashed.
“That’s what I like to hear. Now, in the envelope, you will also find your new location. I’ve secured a new rental for you in the fashionable River Oaks area, close to the target destination. You’ll find the details inside.”
I took the documents out again; inside, there was a small envelope with a pair of house keys and a lease for the rental along with my required ID cards identifying me as a school educator. The Company had prepared everything; all I had to do was play the role.
“You’re to meet with Michael McClellan tomorrow. I want you to get a feel of the place. He’s expecting you. Get a feel of him too. Get acquainted,” he said, his lips slightly curved. He looked like he was enjoying this.
“Also, you’ll find a briefcase under the bed with a few devices you may require to retrieve the alien. Don’t hesitate to use them. We are both very aware of how quick and clever he can be,” he lectured me. I hated it when he did that, like I was some kind of newbie.
I looked over at the bed; the briefcase was there as he’d indicated.
“Listen very carefully, I want to make this perfectly clear.” I glared over at the screen, slightly lifting an eyebrow. What now?
“You are a respected educator, a principal with the highest outstanding merits. We have painted the perfect picture of excellence,” Bryce said.
“Bryce, why are you telling me this?” I asked as he suddenly came forward on his seat.
“Because I know how you like to frequent brothels.” His tone of voice slightly rose.
“Why is that relevant?” I asked, almost wanting to laugh, slightly embarrassed that he had dared to say it out loud.
“Because I can’t have my respected educator seen in a whorehouse,” he said, lifting and wagging his finger at my eye level, like a scolding father figure.
“You will play the role to the tee, so no whorehouses, no social activity of any kind, and no women whatsoever,” he firmly said.
“What?” I roared, gripping the monitor. “What am I supposed to do until then?”
“It’s not any of my concern,” Bryce said.
I smiled, weren’t a majority of teachers female? He seemed to read my face.
“Your time might be better employed and profitable if you were to concentrate on finding something constructive to occupy all your efforts to rather than performing anatomically impossible acts of perversion.” He firmly instructed.
“Having said that, it’s essential you do not blow your cover.”
I dropped into my chair, thinking deeply. In the brief pause, Bryce started laughing, startling me out of my thoughts. “You’re seriously considering such perversion on female staff? Even after my warnings?” He asked with that strange smirk on his face. He always seemed to know what I thought.
“Well, you’ve given me very little options, Sir,” I firmly said.
“I have, haven’t I? But it’s required.” He smiled and leaned back into his seat.
“We must be consistent,” he said. “We must appear the part. We can’t risk any problems, anyone discovering your true identity, especially the alien. He must never be aware of our presence.” He knew I hated it. Did he love seeing me in agony? No brothels? How would I survive without getting laid?
“Remember: infiltrate, detect, and retrieve. Report to me once you’re settled into your new role, but until then, maintain radio silence.”
His image vanished, and I sat there staring at the flashing cursor, stroking the bottom of my chin in thought.
I picked up the documents again. Glaring at the picture ID, of this Dr. John Black I was to become. Kind of catchy I would agree. I clicked on the pictures of each individual on the laptop screen and read each bio briefly. I was to meet Michael McClellan tomorrow, so I read up on him first. He was a single and simple boring man with white peppered hair and dark eyebrows; below, there were several links that opened to references, clippings of his charity work and his awards. He was dedicated, and I was not impressed.
I clicked on Dr. Neil Edwards next. I read through his bio which described him as a dedicated educator. I mumbled and read down until I came to a link of references below. I continued to read and clicked on the news references under the family.
I read the following:
Dr. Neil Edwards, respected educator and community hero, was awarded and honored at a large ceremony for his great achievements…
I continued reading down past the interview with Dr. Edwards about his great achievements. The story continued, regarding Dr. Edwards’ funeral arrangements and those in attendance. The number reached over two hundred; apparently, he was very well loved. He had made several donations to charity, but the majority of his assets were left to his heirs. I wondered who those heirs were, and I read on:
Michael McClellan was appointed the guardian of late Dr. Edwards’ assets. With no other known relatives, devoted friend and colleague Michael McClellan is appointed successor of Dr. Edwards’ estate. Responding to allegations that he was after Dr. Edwards’ money, Michael said the following: “I’m not doing this for the money. I have nothing to gain. Neil was my best friend, and I’m doing this for him because it’s the way he wanted it. This is all for her care and well-being.”
The caption ended there. Was he cut off?
I shook my head. Her well-being? Who was she?
Then it hit me; Michael McClellan was an appointed guardian, a guardian of whom? I looked around my files, but there was no mention of heirs in Dr. Edwards’ history. If there was any, I had no access to it. Why?
I clicked on the family story, but the link merely took me to the story of Dr. Edwards’ brief interview. I searched the files, looking for photographs, references, or anything regarding this nameless heir. That couldn’t be a typo. I assumed if there was one, she was most likely now staying with Michael McClellan, and I wondered why it wasn’t mentioned at all in the files that I had. Was it simply irrelevant?
I clicked link after link, hoping to get a photograph of the late Edwards or even one of McClellan with the mysterious heir. But the photograph was an old one with no clue as to this unknown heir. It just couldn’t be an error.
I clicked out of the ADA website and logged out, doing my own Google searches into the obituaries, and I found by mere luck a local mention of Dr. Edwards on the school website. I read through the attendance list including:
Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool, Milton’s assistant principals and staff including Michael McClellan and the late Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter, Claudia Belle.
“A granddaughter?” I hissed. She had to be the heir. I wondered why Bryce had failed to send me her file. And why wasn’t she even mentioned on the ADA website? The Company didn’t just make mistakes like that.
It was odd that I had to find out from a local school paper; not even the local media had mentioned this one important thing. This was important. She was important.
Wasn’t she?
Now
, I was more curious as to why Bryce had failed to send her file. Perhaps she was not important, but that still didn’t make sense. I had files on everyone involved, even those of unimportance. She was obviously important; after all, she was Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter. I should know about her. How was I supposed to play the part of an educator who appreciated a man like Dr. Edwards and had followed his example if I didn’t know about his life?
How was I supposed to be that man without knowing that bit of information? I couldn’t just assume Bryce thought I would get my information from these links and research articles. That’s why we had The Company researchers to find things the newspaper articles couldn’t supply us with.
I did another Google search under the name Claudia Belle; the only hit I got was of a Nicholas Belle, a CEO for a large financial firm. I clicked the name but the page was no longer available. I came back to the results and clicked on another page, but the same thing happened. I was curious to know if this had anything at all to do with Claudia Belle.
I entered his name into The Company server just for my own curiosity, but the name came back with no results found. Well, that didn’t help. It only led to more questions.
I opened another window and clicked onto The Company server and onto The Company email and opened a new message; on it, I typed all in caps:
WHO IS CLAUDIA BELLE?
I then hit send; after doing so, I logged off and rose from the seat to stretch, walking over to the window and gazing out into the quiet night. It was now midnight. I looked over at the bed and it was looking very nice right about now, so I walked over and dropped on it. Looking up at the ceiling, I thought of schools, desks, teachers, and even kids that would soon be my new reality, and then, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
5
Michael McClellan
Michael planned to meet with the new principal during the school day; the district had warned him that the new principal was a very professional educator and he should make the best impression possible. He figured that the best place to do that was in Dr. Edwards’ old office. By tomorrow, the movers would be arriving and cleaning the office and making room for the new principal’s belongings, taking out the furniture and replacing it with new items.
