In Icarus' Shadow

by Matthew Jones

  Chapter Eleven

  "No."

  "Thomas, would you just-"

  "No. No way, no how."

  "You're being-"

  "No!"

  Nadia sighed, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel of her car while she waited for her friend to get the word out of his system.

  "No. No, no, no! And again, no!" Finishing this batch, he rested his forehead against the dashboard and panted quietly. Hiding an amused smile, Nadia kept her tone serious.

  "Feel better now?"

  His response came by way of shaken head, forehead remaining against the dash.

  "Oh come on, it isn't that bad."

  Thomas sat back up, his expression somewhere between conveying a frantic need to strangle her and an overpowering, exasperated frustration. The fact that she began giggling uncontrollably upon seeing the slightly crazed look did not help. Letting his breath out slowly, he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

  "You... you should have seen the l-look on your face just now. Aha... ahaha... ahem. Sorry. You were saying?"

  "I was going to say that I think you're insane. Look at this place! I doubt the Prime Minister's house is this well protected!"

  She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You're exaggerating."

  "Exa..." She could almost see the veins in his head beginning to throb as he fought to recover his powers of speech. "Exaggerating?" His hands began to clench the air in a vain attempt to throttle her without physical contact, before finding a more useful purpose; specifically, directing her attention out the window. "This place is fifty stories of security guards, cameras and signs that read 'off limits' in big red letters followed by teeny-tiny black letters explaining how many ways we'll be incarcerated after we try to get past them!"

  Nadia did her best to keep a straight face. She really did. But even as Thomas' face went into steadily deeper shades of red, she could not stop laughing. In all seriousness, however, she had to admit he had a point. The building did leave something of an imposing first impression. Fifty stories of black-tinted glass gave it an air akin to a bodyguard's; towering, but clean-cut and undeniably professional. Not dissimilar to Burgess himself, she supposed, though her personal opinion of the man included the word 'professional' in a grudging manner only. The company that had built it was Icarus Development Incorporated and they had made it their headquarters upon its completion; the name was visible in red letters three quarters of the way up the building's side. Adding to all of this was the fact that it was in the heart of the downtown area and therefor was pretty much guaranteed to always have someone on hand to spot those who shouldn't be on the premises.

  Thomas and Nadia's reason for needing to get in, of course, was that this was the company that had been making excuses to the police on Burgess' behalf all week; they had found that out after a quick phone call or two to some of her mother's friends at the OPD's headquarters. It was a construction company of some kind, though you wouldn't know it if you only looked at the almost CIA-like exterior. Burgess was the chief of security, or so the secretary at the front desk had informed her upon her calling in to ask. He reportedly answered directly to the CEO, a Ms. Giselle Fitch. Whether Ms. Fitch was Burgess' cover or active backer they didn't yet know, but it was another name for her to investigate.

  Thomas, being the worrier of the two of them, had of course mapped out the thousand ways trying to get in without permission would get them into trouble with a level of detail that would put a GPS to shame. Nadia preferred to tackle problems head-on, but she had to agree that landing one or both of themselves in prison would do neither they nor her investigation any good. Maybe, for just this once, they would have to do it Thomas' way. The cautious way. She turned to Thomas to express this acquiescence, knowing the words would taste like vinegar; he had been trying to talk her into this since they met.

  "Thomas?"

  Lifting his head off of the dash, where he had left it after several soft impacts against the window, he looked at her wearily. "Yes?"

  "You know how you've been trying to convince me to approach things more cautiously?"

  He gave a short, dry, laugh. "You mean except for when I told you to follow that thug back to Burgess' office at that old motel, thus causing all of this? Yes, I do."

  "Well, I..." she trailed off, suddenly seized by what he had said. Burgess' office at the old motel; of course! If Burgess was here at the I.D.I. building to maintain his cover, he wouldn't be able to keep as close an eye on the motel office without arousing suspicion.

  "Thomas, you're a genius!"

  Thomas narrowed his eyes and began studying her; the look on his face making it perfectly clear how much he doubted that he was going to agree with her. After a moment's scrutiny, he sighed and put his concern into words. "I know that expression. You're about to suggest something only slightly less crazy than our current plan, but just sane enough that we're at least going to try it because you won't take 'no' for an answer."

  She grinned widely at him, mischief dancing in her eyes even as she pulled away from the curb and back onto the road. "Bingo."

  Thomas' only response was to groan and rest his head back against his seat. Why did he have to keep opening his big mouth to say exactly the wrong thing?