Thursday, December 29, 2011

Shattered-The Trust: Episode 6



Shattered-The Trust

Episode 6: Breakout

- Hank petitions the director of Alpha Site to assist in the retrieval of Jenna West.

- Jenna and Phoenix make a break for it as the Echelon zombie killers come after them.

Check out the next episode of Shattered-The Trust over at my Shattered-The Trust blog...
http://shatteredseries.blogspot.com/2011/12/shattered-trust-episode-6.html

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Cloak & Dagger - Episode 3



Episode 3: Strange Case of Amnesia

"What's happening to her?" Daniel Fouts had been called to the infirmary not long after Michela was brought in.

"I haven't seen anything like it. She's having a strange case of amnesia. The last thing she remembers is in 1987." Lee Myers, the medical professional who headed the infirmary tapped a pen against his mouth. "It could be a new virus one of our enemies are working on," he surmised.

"Or the Nightingale program has finally taken its toll on her brain." Fouts muttered.

Lee glanced at Daniel in surprise. "Isn't that program a little before your time?"

"I was fully debriefed about everything the Foundation found... troubling. This was Chandelor's fear. One of Franklin's experiments going sideways."

Lee patted Fouts' shoulder. "I wouldn't jump off the deep end just yet. Sometimes these things have a way of working themselves out."

"I hope you're right, Dr. Myers."

___

Michela Forsythe thought she was having a dream. Maybe this whole spy agency deal was just a figment of her imagination. Things like this couldn't possibly be real They were only things people wrote about in books.

The doctors had come around taking blood and mentoring her heart rate. She really doubted they'd find anything enlightening in those readings. She was beginning to wonder if this was some kind of freakish time travel accident like "Back to the Future." Maybe she was in the future for a reason.

She sat up and felt her hair. It was probably a rat's nest. Maybe one of the nurses would have a brush. She made her way to the mirror to make out the damage. The second she glanced at the reflective surface she screamed.

"Holy Freaky Friday! That is not me!" She shouted stumbling away from the mirror and then began pounding on the metal door. "Nurse! Nurse!"

Dr. Myers and Fouts appeared at the doorway in seconds. They'd been watching her from the two way mirror in the next room.

"What is wrong with me?" she screamed at them. "Have you seen my face? I'm old! Yesterday, I looked like myself and today I don't! What have you done to me?"

Michela tried to elbow her way out of the room, but with Myers and Fouts securely clamped on each arm, she knew she wasn't  going anywhere.

"Calm down, Miss Forsythe. We'll figure this thing out." Lee Myers tried to soothe her but his voice wasn't doing the trick. Fouts motioned to a nurse to apply sedative.

"Figure it out? Figure it out? How old am I now? This isn't something you can fix!" She pulled at he skin which wasn't as peaches and cream as it once was.

"You turned forty-two on your last birthday." Fouts said in a stiff monotone.

"Forty-two? My God, I'm ancient!"

Fouts grimaced at her declaration. As the sedative began to take effect, Michela curled up on the bed and began to weep.

"I guess we can rule out the theory that she's faking it," Lee said.

Fouts showed no emotion. "I want a brain scan done immediately. There has to be some medical reason this."

The medical staff didn't question his order. They wheeled her bed out of the door leaving Fouts alone in the room. He pulled out his encrypted cell and called a familiar number.

"I didn't get the intel, but I'll let you know when I do." Fouts didn't say goodbye. He snapped the cell closed and shoved it into his jacket pocket.

____

In a hidden mine under a mountain, masked agents guarded two men housed in separate cells. One man, the older of the two, had been there for many years. He was gaunt and sickly. Much too skinny for his height. He had lost count of his days and nights in captivity, but he knew it was a long time.

The younger man in the other cell was healthier and full of motivation. The idea of staying her for any amount of time was out of the question for him. It was something he couldn't fathom, something he wouldn't accept.

The older man's name was Franklin Fairchild and he had no idea the atrocities that had been committed in his name. He didn't know the Black Council had created a necklace device that could change any man to look like him. He didn't know about the experiments in the Legacy on its agents. He didn't know what had happened to his family since he fell off the grid. But it was the memory of his children that got him through each day.

Now focusing on the younger man in the other cell, the man he couldn't see was keeping his mind off how miserable he felt. Having the young man to focus on was now the only thing keeping him alive.

___

Mila Ferguson thought visiting her father in England would be fun and exciting. She'd never been to the home of her father's employer before. The house was an estate in the country, much bigger than she ever imagined. She had marveled at how lovely the mansion where her father worked truly was. The entire trip had been very exciting until she took a wrong turn on the stairwell and ended up outside of Chandelor Knight's office.

"She's more beautiful than your photos," Chandelor steepled his fingers in thought.  "She has Julian's eyes."

"That hasn't been determined yet, sir," Fergus said. "We'll know much more after the blood tests."

"I know this has to be hard for you. You see her as your daughter, but I thank you for keeping her safe all these years. You were well compensated. She was even living under Quentin's roof and he never once suspected she could be his granddaughter."

Mila was horrified by what she'd overheard. Was it possible she really was someone else's daughter? She ran into her room, gathered her things and fled from the estate.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Cloak & Dagger - Episode 2



Episode 2: The Unknown

London, 2011

"Technically, she didn't blow him up," Director Daniel Fouts explained to Ethan Fairchild. "A detonator malfunctioned causing the death of Cal Yates."

"I set the charge," Bette Marstan said. "His death was my responsibility."

Ethan didn't respond like he wanted. He still needed time to assess his new recruit before passing judgement.

"Disrespecting your superior officer, even in death, just isn't done, Agent Marstan," Fouts said.

Bette nodded. "Duly noted, director."

Fouts motioned toward his office. The three entered and as they were seated the fiberglass walls morphed from see-through to opaque. This part of their conversation was confidential.

"Ethan, I know you were surprised by my knowledge of the search for your brother but your new assignment has everything to do with your past."

Ethan didn't like the idea of others getting involved in his recent obsession. Even his sister, Faith, knew nothing about his search for Ian. She and Ian had never been close. Even though Ian was Ethan's twin.

"We've been aware of your brother's location ever since Bulgaria. We thought the problem eventually would work itself out, but unfortunately it didn't."

"Problem?" Ethan asked. "What exactly is the problem?"

Daniel wasn't comfortable revealing this truth even though the decision concerning Ian weren't his.

"Ian believes he's you."

___

Gateway City, 1987

Michela Forsythe was in a rush, per usual. Her boyfriend, Cade, the newly crowned King jock of Gateway High was waiting in the car. She gave her mother a wave and blew her a kiss.

"Please try to be on time tonight," Mrs. Forsythe asked her daughter who was already out the door. She sighed and turned back to her Eggs Benedict. "That girl is going to be the death of me."

Michela and Cade walked onto campus as seniors at the top echelon of the social scene. Cade migrated toward the footballers and she found her best friend, Bliss, slamming poor, dorky Alison Corday into a locker and pouring soda on her head. Not exactly one of Bliss' better moments but the all consuming power of being a senior from the popular crowd was going straight to her head.

Michela's theory was that everyone was allowed at least one pre-season foible. Bliss was just getting it out of her system early.

"You're going to hell. You know that, right?" Michela said trying to keep the smile off her lips.

Bliss pulled out a string of her mother's pearls and began rubbing the beads dramatically as if they were a rosary and the key to her salvation.

"I'll say ten hail Mary's and then all will be good. I have Father Benedict in my back pocket. He can put in a good word for me upstairs."

"So, that's how it's done?" Michela snickered. "I knew I'd been doing something wrong."

Michela couldn't say she had it bad. In fact, her life was pretty awesome. Could she help it that she wanted everyone to know it?

Michela's father owned one of the biggest publishing companies in the world. And all the money he raked in being a workaholic was very attractive to all her friends. Sometimes she wondered if what money didn't stick to me might be transfered to them.

She knew being popular wouldn't get her anything in the outside world. Her older sister, Diana, spoke the theory like a mantra. Once out of high school, she'd lost nearly everyone of her best friends to other people who had things her friends wanted that Diana couldn't give them.

In the end, Michela took advantage of the perks of her father's job. She had the best of everything she wanted. Super-sized birthday parties and clothes from designers who had collections that weren't even out yet. Everything under the sun was available to  her... except more time.

That evening she stood outside the school all alone waiting for someone to pick her up. She assumed it would be Pierre, her father's driver, but he'd been detained with some corporate bigwig.

She dialed her father's phone for the third time but it kept going to voicemail. She guessed this was what it felt like to be truly forgotten. She experienced a good five minutes of feeling sorry for herself. It was cruel but she needed it. These were the things that could truly keep her grounded in the future.

Fifteen minutes later, her sister came tooling down the avenue in her new Buick. As she watched Diana's car round the corner, it took her sister too long to react as a dog ran into her path. Diana immediately lost control of the vehicle. She swerved back into her lane but the damage was done. The vehicle was coming straight at Michela faster than the speed limit in that area condoned. The terror in her sister's eyes was the last thing Michela saw before everything went black.

___

London 2011

The streets of London were still bustling when Ethan exited headquarters two hours later. He hadn't heard much of the debriefing after Fouts dropped the bomb about his brother. The notion completely boggled his mind.

Ethan clearly remembered the Bulgarian mission. At least, he thought he did. There were technologies out there that could easily do what Fouts explained. It made him wonder momentarily exactly who was the impostor. Maybe Ian's memories of Bulgaria had been implanted to cover up a conspiracy. Anything was possible when it came to dealing with his father's experiments. If he wanted to know what really happened back then, he had to go to the source.

___

Bette Marstan wasn't a newcomer to the world of espionage. Fouts wanted her to stick to Ethan like glue, and that's what she intended to do. The only problem being that he was very good at ditching a tail. Which is why she found herself outside the London branch of ForeCross Publishing wondering where he could have run off to.

The Legacy wasn't  good at sharing the details of an agent's life, but Bette had run across a photo of Ethan with a  brunette woman she didn't recognize and a man frowning in the background. She fingered it as she searched the scene for Ethan. The other man in the photo resembled a picture she'd once seen of Ethan's brother, Kevin. There was plenty of bad blood between the brothers. So, she was more than surprised when she spotted Kevin Fairchild entering ForeCross. The coincidence was too strange. It gave Bette the perfect motive to follow Kevin inside.

___

Undisclosed Location 2011

Michela found herself lying on the street. The gritty surface covered her hands and cheek. She must have passed out. And Michela wondered how much this fender bender was going to cost her daddy. All she could think was that she was glad she wasn't the one driving. Diana would have to take the blame for this accident.

She opened her eyes and scrambled to her feet but what she saw wasn't the parking lot at school. It was a dark alley way too close to a pier that reeked of fish guts and motor oil

"Michela? What are you doing?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere. She wheeled around looking for the source.

"Who's there?" she whispered. She looked around seeing no one in the darkness. "I think I'm losing my mind. All she could wonder was how had she gotten here and where exactly was here? It definitely wasn't the high school parking lot.

"Lose your mind later," said the voice again. "You have a mission to complete."

"Mission? If this is God, you're barking up the wrong cheerleader. The only mission I have is to go home and practice my routine until all eyes are on me."

It was in this moment she finally realized something was in her ear, some sort of device like a hearing aid. She studied it momentarily.

"Your technology is cool and all but ... can I get a ride home? Mom and Dad are going to be miffed if I'm late again."

Another voice came over the ear piece. This one was distinctly feminine and perfectly familiar. Alison Corday.

"Michela? What are you talking about? Your mother's been dead for years. Have you been compromised? Is this channel being monitored?"

Michela stilled. "Dead? I just talked to her this morning."

"You couldn't have. You've been on this mission for the last forty-eight hours." Alison's voice was speaking in riddles and nothing she was saying was making sense.

Michela shook her head. "No, no. That's not right. I've just started my senior year. I've never been on any sort of  mission. Alison? You believe me, right? You saw me this morning."

"We've got to get her out of there." Alison was speaking to someone else. Someone Michela couldn't hear. "She's been affected mentally. We knew this could be a problem."

The sound of a car engine roared to life near Michela's position. She flinched and her heart raced. The more she focused on her surroundings and the dark shadows, the more fearful she became.

Footsteps sounded like gunshots as they drew closer. "Someone's coming," she whispered. "Alison, you have to help me!"

"Some things never change," Alison muttered. "We're sending in an extraction team. Stay put."

The only problem was that Michela didn't stay put. She ran off toward the dock and the ear piece she'd been studying was now lying on the ground.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Cloak & Dagger - Episode 1



 

Cloak & Dagger

He should have known better. Getting involved with another Kassoff would only lead him down the road of misery. But in his life, misery had been a strangely faithful friend.


Ethan jogged through the tunnels near Westminster Abbey not seeing the popular tourist attraction the media had recently claimed was leaning. His eyes followed the dark waters of the Thames as his feet pounded the pavement.


He had returned from a mission more confused than he'd been before. All the leads he'd uncovered on the disappearance of his brother, Ian, took him down deserted roads that led to nowhere. Each scrap of hope had become yet another piece of disappointment.


He'd run into Athena Kassoff on his last journey and that chance meeting had been messing with his head.

"You think you're the responsible one?" she taunted. "You left me behind to bear the consequences of both our actions."


He'd attributed her words to consuming too much ale. She was spouting other threats but that one had stuck with him as he traveled back to London to rejoin his team.


The holiday had not been as relaxing or productive as he would have liked. And the memories nipping at his heels had faded with time.


His flat was a cookie-cutter brownstone that resembled every other on the block. Nothing stood out. Nothing distinctive. Being a ghost was something he did well in all aspects of life.


His breaths came in an even rhythm. He was an athletic man who kept himself in good physical condition. He didn't have movie star good looks like his older brother, Carter, but his chiseled jaw and rough appearance had its admirers.


Ethan ran down a familiar tunnel nodding at check points, men dressed as bums wearing wireless microphones. The last bum directed him to the entrance of the day with a simple playing card lying on the ground.


Ace of spades. So, it was the front door today. But the front door of the headquarters of The Legacy wasn't exactly a normal store front. It had a door, yes. A door to an empty room filled with pipes and hanging wires. He clamped two specific wires together, spun a handle counter clockwise two times and engaged the handle on the power box after flipping two breakers to the off position.


A door opened next to the power box and he stepped into the darkness. It was a small elevator leading him down into the bowels of the earth.


He emerged into what looked like a normal office. A receptionist sat behind a tall desk. She grimaced at his sweaty appearance.


"You look ghastly," Becca Ramsey told him. She was in her mid-fifties with hair the color of artificial chestnuts. "The director is expecting you in ten. You might want to change before then. A shower, perhaps?"


"Yes, mum. Always so concerned about me."


"Someone must. It's not like you'd do it on your own prompting." She returned to her computer monitor.


Ethan breezed past her and into the locker room. It wasn't one of those offices where you were familiar with everyone. Besides Becca and the director, he didn't have contact with anyone else on site at headquarters.


The analysts were too focused on their current assignments to worry about a strange man entering the locker room. But unusually, one analyst did observe him with a watchful eye as he wandered around the office. Her screen was dark, as if she was only occupying a cubicle and not actually using it.


She moved the typing glasses farther down her nose and followed Ethan with her eyes as he entered the director's office. Daniel Fouts was a dark-haired, hard-eyed man who rarely showed any emotion. He accepted Ethan into the fiberglass-walled office and gestured to a chair.


"Thank you for meeting with me. I know it's unorthodox to come all the way into Headquarters especially when you're spending every off minute searching for your brother."


Ethan's eyes narrowed. No one was supposed to know he was looking into his brother's disappearance. Especially no one in the upper echelon of management.


"I assume there is a reason you wanted to see me?" His voice was gruff. Any happy-go-lucky manner he had in his demeanor previous to now was completely extinguished.


"I'm adding someone to your team." Fouts motioned to the woman standing near the doorway. She was a beautiful blonde that looked like she'd been pulled straight from a Betty Crocker manual. "Bette Marstan, this is Ethan Fairchild. Your new team commander."


"What happened to her last team commander?" Ethan asked curiously.


Bette smiled impishly. "I blew him up."

Friday, March 18, 2011

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Last Author Standing... not me

I was involved in a fun endeavor over at LiveJournal called Original Fiction - Last Author Standing. It is now week 3 and I have been voted off the island. Shucks. Here is the story that got me booted. Tell me what you think.

My LiveJournal:
http:// leg-alphasite.livejournal.com


Camelot in Carolton

In retrospect, I really didn’t mean for Keely Simmons to die. 

It wasn’t intentional. In fact, it was all Ali Harper’s fault. If she hadn’t stolen my boyfriend, Jason, a week before the prom, none of this would have ever happened.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

By Any Other Name - Episode 15



Episode 15: The Return

By Toni Walker

Nick Boyd changed his mind at the last minute. He had to honor what he told his mother. He had to find Emilie. Mal would just have to wait until later. He wasn’t sure what he’d find when he arrived at Rand’s ranch. But it wasn’t this. He fingered the handcuffs dangling from the front door handle. And attached to them was a 2x4 wedged against the lock. It was a pretty nifty trick, easy to assemble and effective.

“What are you looking at?” Rio Cruz said over the walkie-talkie? Rio was doing a walk-about around the property line to make sure Emilie hadn’t gotten away from them. Considering her horse was here at the cabin, she couldn’t be far away.

“Looks like someone is making sure people stay out or someone stays in. And I seriously doubt its Rand. He’s not big on locking his doors, especially like this.”

“You think we have an intruder?” Rio asked. 

“I think we have something,” Nick replied. “Keep this channel open in case I need back up.” He peered into a window. He knew Rand had built this cabin for privacy not security. There had to be more than one way inside.

*** 

Patrick Donovan inched forward as he scanned the darkened basement. He held Carrie behind him. If there was anything fishy going on down here, he didn’t want her to be hurt by it.

“You heard that noise earlier, right?” Patrick asked, trying to appear confident. Their earlier romantic liaison had been interrupted by a collapse of the porch circling around the house. The area beneath that section of deck was in line with the basement. That was where Patrick and Carrie were heading.

“Can’t you use your psychic mojo to feel out if this is a dangerous suspect?”

Carrie sighed. People who didn’t have psychic abilities didn’t quite understand how they worked. “My gift doesn’t work that way. And lately my ‘mojo’, as you call it, has been a bit off.”

“Hey, no pressure. Just wanting to feel out my options.” Patrick really wished he could feel his hands closing around the neck of a baseball bat. Or something he could use as a weapon.

Carrie Hawkins turned around, peering into the dark corner of the basement. Something niggled at her spider sense. Whomever it was, they were close and nearly as gifted as she was.

Patrick read the searching expression on Carrie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here. Someone beside the thing/person that fell through the porch.” Carrie said.

“Good to know. Not sure what to do with the information, but good to know.”

He stepped forward and his foot came into contact with splintered pieces of rotten wood. They looked up and saw the night sky peeking through a large hole in the ceiling.

“I told Rand that this place was an accident waiting to happen,” Patrick said. “Where do you think the thing is that fell down here?”

Carrie already had a pretty good idea. She’d quickly honed in on the energy patterns of the room. And pointed toward a set of cabinets along the right wall. She held a finger to her lips and inched closer.

When she lunged forward and opened the nearest door, a surprise lay waiting for her behind door number one.

A little girl squealed. It was Emilie.

Patrick stepped back a few paces, the shock of her appearance quickly fading. “You just scared the living crap out of me, kid.”

Emilie mumbled a heartfelt apology and crawled from inside the cabinet.

“Someone’s out there,” she said. “Before I fell, I could feel them watching me.”

“You guys and your spider sense make quite a pair. Please tell me it’s not something you can catch, like the flu. I don’t want nor need other people’s emotions piggy back riding in my head. I have enough trouble dealing with my own issues.” 

Patrick didn’t appreciate the fine art of psychic intuition. He liked facts. Facts were easy to figure out, easy to relate. All Carrie and Emilie’s inner mumbo-jumbo just freaked him the hell out.

“Did you actually see someone out there?” Carrie asked the youth.

“Just shadows,” Emilie admitted. “I did see Patrick kissing you, though.”

A look of horrified realization filled Patrick’s eyes. “You can’t tell anyone about that. We just lost our heads for a moment.”

Emilie chuckled. “I think Carly would lose her head of she saw that too.” She turned to Carrie. “Carly scares me sometimes. Just the look in her eyes .. .” she shuddered. 

Carrie had to agree. The young girl had good instincts. She brushed the mussed hair out of her eyes and gave her a hug. “We’re going to get you home, okay?”

A rustling from above had them all looking up. “That might be a little difficult,” Nick Boyd said, peering down at them. “The tires on both cars have been slashed. Yours and Rand’s old pick up. But luckily, mine are perfectly in tact.”

“Perfect,” Patrick muttered. “The calvary has arrived.”

Out of their view, someone approached behind Nick. He didn’t suspect anyone might still be lurking around. The person held a large stone and brought it down hard on the back of Nick’s skull. 

He lost his balance and fell forward into the hole. He crashed at their feet after an amazingly awkward swan drive. It was almost sickening to watch. If he didn’t have broken bones, it would be a miracle. He laid sprawled out on his back. The fall had knocked him unconscious.

“What in the hell is going on?” Patrick said.


Carrie's eyes went blank a she felt herself slipping into an old memory. Sometimes things like this happened to her, but this was different. Someone was forcing her to remember.

“Oh, God. It’s starting again!” The hysteria in Carrie’s voice grew more insistent. “I should have never come back to work.”

“What are you talking about?” Patrick said, walking toward her. Nick stopped him. Carrie huddled next to the fireplace across the room.

“I think I know. Clay Garrison was a serial killer Carrie tracked for the police in Chicago. It was pretty bad. He targeted women who looked like Carrie, even kidnapped her daughter. She’s never gotten over it.”

“That’s horrible. I can’t imagine.”

“You don’t want to imagine. Trust me. I’ve seen the reports. Carrie’s been through hell.” Nick glanced back at her as she stared blankly at the roaring fire.

With Nick’s connection to the police department, he was able to get closer to Carrie in a way Patrick couldn’t. 

“Someone’s leaving her notes like last time. Just like Clay Garrison did.”

“But I thought he was dead.”

“So did we,” Nick said. “So did we.”


"You thought you were so smart, Kara."


It was the voice of Clayton Garrison, a voice she had thought she'd banished forever. She cringed at the nickname he'd given her. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to relive the horror.


"You can't get rid of me that easily," he whispered. "You're a part of me. We're one."


"What have you done with my daughter?" Carrie had trouble getting the sentence out in one breath. The pain was closer to the surface tha she realized.


"She's quite a looker," he chuckled. "Growing up just like her mommy."


Carrie screamed but no one could hear her. She was trapped in her mind.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Familiar Adversary - Episode 13




Episode 13

I opened my eyes expecting white walls and a hospital and instead found Nick hovering over me with a concerned look on his face.

“What happened?” I asked. My mouth felt like cotton. I was dehydrated, but my headache was gone.

“One of the blood vessels in your head burst,” Nick said. The beautiful black woman was standing beside him.

“The human brain is only supposed to support less than ten percent of cognitive function. Your brain is working at thirty-five percent, three times the normal level. The problem with you is that what you do, you do naturally. You have no way of turning it off and on.”

This was too much information. All I wanted to do was sleep. I felt like I hadn’t gotten a lot of rest lately. And those odd flashes of my brother’s voice, the broken windshield and the blood were concerning me.

“I just want to go home. Sleep is my own bed. I’m tired of this strange waking nightmare.”

Mala took Nick aside. “You know what you have to do,” she told him. “The girl is too important to let her go now.”

“I know but she didn’t sign up for this,” Nick said.

“What she wants is irrelevant at this point,” Mala said her voice was ultra-calm. “If we want to succeed against our adversaries, we need her, no matter what we have to say to get her to believe us.

“Interdimentional war? Where did you come up with that?”

“Just testing the waters, Nickey boy. I want to see how easily she’ll detect a lie,” Mala said glancing over Nick’s shoulder.

“She’s right. You’re doing your damn psy-ops thing.” Nick stood as a baracade between the bed and Mala. “We need her. You said it yourself. Don’t scare her off before we can get the information we need.

Mala turned and faced the window looking out into the garden. “Don’t act so self-righteous. She doesn’t even know who you really are. You’ve changed since she first wrote about you.” 

Nick’s mouth set in a hard line. “I can’t change the past. I can only move forward.”

“And hope little girlie here doesn’t discover the truth.”

***

I had no idea what Mala and Nick were whispering about across the room. The only thing I did know was that their expressions were freaking me out. A few times Nick’s face looked downright evil.

I couldn’t get out of bed and attempt an escape. My head pounded just thinking about an escape route.

When Mala and Nick finished their pow-wow, orderlies came in and wheeled me into a very cozy-looking room. If we were still in the hospital, it was in the awfully fancy wing.

“Where’s your new best friend?” I asked Nick. He had been acting oddly since his conversation with Mala.

“She had things to attend to,” he said stiffly.

“Is it all right if I give the patient her meds?” The nurse looked expectantly at Nick who nodded.

“You need to rest. I’ll talk to you later.” When he left I felt a clutching sense of panic in my chest. And it wasn’t because Nick had left the room. Something was definitely fishy here.

“He’s not actually a bad guy,” the nurse said. Her accent was touched with an inflection of British.

“I don’t know what to think All I do know is that my bad vibes are pounding so strongly I can feel it pulsing inside my head.”

“We have to get you out of here,” the nurse said hoisting me up by the shoulder. She was stronger than she looked.

“What do you mean?” I asked my voice hitched with a tint of fear. “Where are you taking me?”

I could already feel the drug taking effect. Even if I resisted her eventually I’d pass out. What would happen then would be up to her.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. You shouldn’t move an injured woman so soon after surgery.”

“You don’t know what’s good for you, Walker,” the nurse said. She carried me to the window and signaled for someone beyond the garden.

“You know,” the nurse said. “The only reason you stopped writing about me is that I blocked my thoughts. I got pretty good at it, actually.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, slurring my words. 

“I’m one of those characters you wrote about in the beginning. I’m Angela Hastings. Ta-Da. Aren’t you excited to see one of your characters in the flesh?”

“Been there, done that,” I said weakly. The woman loosened my restraints and one of them I swear she broke in half. “Why are you helping me?”

“The Foundation wanted you here for a reason. I have to figure out what that reason is.”

Suddenly, I was face to face but I couldn’t move. The drugs Mala and Nick had given me slowed down my motor function. I’d be lucky if I could keep breathing at this point.

“I can’t move,” I said in as much panic as my weak and exhausted voice could manage.

She looked at me with concerned hazel eyes, then touched a device hidden in her ear. “Hank, we have a problem. She’s having trouble breathing.”

“My dossier says she has asthma. She’s probably reacting to the drug. Get her back here fast,” Hank said in his quick tone. I could hear him talking to himself and cursing the people of the Foundation. “Angela, if you don’t make it back here in five minutes, she won’t make it either.”

Somehow the woman must have had superhuman strength. She picked me up like I weighed nothing and tossed me over her shoulder. She’d made it all the way to the window when a voice shouted from the other side of the room.

“Angela, stop!” It was Nick.

She did a half turn to look at him, her face frozen in a scowl.

“You really are alive,” he said.

“Yeah, Nickey, I am. No time to chat, though.”

Nick would see my face. I was trying to concentrate on taking slow deep breats but every second that ticked away make it harder and harder to breathe.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

“Whatever drug they gave her, I think she’s allergic. If you want her to live, I’ve gotta go.”

Nick nodded. He didn’t say the words, he just nodded.

Angela reached for the window when Mala and a group of military men burst into the room. The black woman barked orders and one of the men dressed in black fatigues grabbed Nick. The rest came forward toward us and fanned out across the room.  Angela stood on the window ledge and looked down. WE had to be on the second or third floor.

“What are you doing,” I whispered.

“Even you can’t make that jump,” Mala mocked. “Give the girl back to us. She’s no concern to you.”

Angela didn’t answer. She swiveled, stepped onto the ledge and jumped. As the concrete rushed toward us, I passed out.

***

I woke up with a start, jerking my head back. It impacted with a cushioned surface that I later realized was the head rest of my car. My eyes darted around frantic. What in the hell had just happened?

My breathing was just as strained as before and I felt a wetness coming through my shirt. It was blood. I looked at my bloody hand and my breath hitched coming faster

“What’s happening to me?” I muttered through shaky breaths. A minute ago I was falling to my death and now I was here. I could hear a faint voice calling to me. It took me a minute to realize it was my phone, my old clunky gray model from 1996 that should in no way still work. I put it to my ear almost afraid of what I’d hear.

“Hello?” I said. My voice was shaky and uneven. 

“Oh, thank God,” sighed a relived voice on the other end.

“Aaron?” It sounded like my brother, but I couldn’t be sure. Nothing about today was making sense.

“Yes. Yes, it’s me. Where are you?”

I looked around, high weeds surrounded me. The nose of my car was in water, maybe a ravine or a deep ditch. I couldn’t see anything else and the only thing I could hear was the silence of the country, birds, crickets and the wind. Nothing stood out as relevant.

“I don’t know. My car is face down in water. The only thing keeping this one on is the car battery. An old charger is connected to a cigarette lighter. If I wanted to get out and look around, I’d have to leave the phone here.”

“The cops are trying to triangulate your signal, but it’s more difficult since it’s analog.”

“I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t even remember how I got here.”

“You were coming to visit me like you always do.”

I held my breath when he made that comment. That wasn’t true. I hardly ever visited my brother due to the fact that he lived so far away. Who was this person? Or maybe it was Aaron and people were making him say these things. Maybe he’d been compromised.

I paused. Compromised? Who said things like that? My spy writing was definitely coming into the foreground coloring my wording.

“Right,” I said stalling. “I remember now. I was coming to visit you.”

“Did you remember to bring that gift for grandma?” he asked.

Grandma? My grandmother was dead. Maybe he meant his wife’s grandma.

“I don’t know if I brought it or not. If I did, it’s probably broken now. Everything here is smashed.”

“Okay,” he said. “Keep on the line and…” his voice faded into nothingness and the phone blinked off.  I hadn’t realized sometime during our conversation the interior light of my car had gone dark, even the radio ceased to play.

The car battery must be dead.

It was probably for the best. If some contingent of bad guys was after me, the less Aaron knew the better.

I reached into the back seat and opened the door to the rear compartment. The backseat doubled as a secret passage to the trunk. I grabbed the aluminum ball bat and tested its weight. If any bad guys approached me, at least I’d have something t protect myself with.

My head filled with possible dialogue for a scene. But I really didn’t want to write an episode right now. I wanted to go home, lie down and sleep for a week. Suddenly, I realized I’d been hearing the same phrase over and over in my head.

“You have to get out of the car.” It was distinct, spoken as if the person were right next to me. “Get out of the car,” the voice insisted. “Get out of the car NOW!”

I held the bat to my chest and ran from the vehicle. I stopped and leaned against a big oak tree not far from my abandoned car.

“What in the hell was that,” I screamed. “I just want to go home.” I slapped the tre and stared at my car. Even from this distance I could see the blinking light from inside the driver’s door. I had a sudden feeling that blinking light wasn’t a good sign and sprinted in the opposite direction. 

I could feel the force of the explosion even from a distance. The resulting energy wave knocked me to my hands and knees in the mud. If this was how the spy game was played, I really didn’t like it very much.

“I’m a good person,” I said. “Why are people trying to kill me?”

“What in the hell is wrong with you?” The voice in my head was now standing next to me. “Do you have a death wish or something?” Angela Hastings appeared to my right.”

“I don’t know what is wrong with me. I think I’m having blackouts.”

“Wonderful,” Angela muttered. “Hank, can you fix her?”

“Oh, right. Ask the impossible of me. I’m a scientist not a physician.”

“Just look at her.”

Hank looked nothing like I’d imagined. I was expecting an ultra thin geek, but instead this man was relatively good-looking. Smart and good-looking, what were the odds?

The scientist had a chiseled face and a European wine country look about him. His voice was a mixture of French and English accents. I could listen to him talk all day and never be bored. 

He reached into my ear canal and removed a small device. It must have been some sort of communication device, because suddenly the chattering in my head came to an end. That alone made me feel a bit more relaxed.

“We call it a ComLink. It’s one of the newer models. Not ours, however.” He grabbed his Swiss Army knife and used one of the blades to deactivate it. “That’s better.” He smiled at me. “You’re one popular girl.”

“Why is the sixty four thousand dollar question.” Hank put his hands on my stomach and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“No broken ribs. That’s a plus, but I’m going to have to bandage that wound. Take off your shirt.”

My face reddened. “Pardon me?”

“Your shirt. Take it off. I must be able to clean the wound thoroughly.” Hank rifled through his bag of tricks and came back with antiseptic and bandages. He really was too good to be true.

Angela and Hank didn’t know what to make of me. I think the only thing keeping me alive was the fact that the Foundation wanted me more than Angela and Hank did. Anything the Foundation wanted, they knew they had to keep a hold of.

I wasn’t sure where we were. I wasn’t even sure I was thinking clearly. My mind felt like mush, like it was constantly changing channels. One moment I was in a car ditched in a ravine and the next I was being rescued from the clutches of the Foundation by Angela and Hank. Who knew which scenario was the true one.

Night had fallen and the area where Angela had decided to use as a hideout looked vaguely familiar.

“Where are we?” I asked. Hank set a large metal suitcase on one of the tables. Vending machines lined one wall, but it was the cappuccino machine that brought a light bulb into my mind. We were at the rest area not far from my brother’s house. Somehow the two realities had finally converged.

“I don’t think Mala and the Foundation will be looking for you here,” Hank reassured me.

“We’ve slipped under their radar,” Angela said.  “We should be safe for tonight.”

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel reassured. This all had suddenly become all too real. I wish I knew why any of these people wanted to pay tug-of-war with my life.