| Episode 010 | |
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“The
longest part of the journey is said to be the passing of the gate.” Marcus
Terentius Varro
The airport was filled with the soft light of the Parisian night.
People unloaded from the planes to be greeted with warm embraces.
Family and friends were waiting to accept the passengers as they
unloaded. Smiles filled the
air.
Lisa
watched as a young woman rushed into the arms of her father, tears in her
eyes. Elsewhere, she saw
lovers embrace passionately and old friends smile with delight and joy.
She felt a sense of overwhelming happiness spread through her.
As
she smiled, six reporters went sprinting by her.
She was snapped back to reality as reporters ambushed the
passengers from her plane. The
crews attacked each passenger, shoving their microphones into their faces
and bombarding them with questions while the cameras recorded every
instant of their grief.
Lisa
was about to speak up when Alex grabbed her arm, pulling her away.
“Come on,” he said, motioning towards a small metal door
displaced from the immigration lines.
“Every time anything happens on a plane, its got to be big
news,” he grumbled as he slipped his card through the door’s keycard
port, then let them in. A
white painted hallway that smelled of the 1970s waited for them.
In
dim light, he led them down the windowless tunnel marked with nondescript
black doors with silver handles, until they came to one door that looked
no different from any of the previous ones.
Alex pushed it open, revealing the front of the concourse.
Without a word, he led them passed the lines and out into the
street. There, waiting for
them was a black limousine.
As
Alex approached, the trunk popped open, startling Amy and Lisa.
But Alex tossed his bags inside, then offered to the two girls.
Amy looked at Lisa, as if for assurance, but Lisa clung to her
backpack and guitar case.
Alex
shut the trunk, then held the door for the two of them.
Lisa slipped in cautiously, startled to find a blonde-haired woman
and a middle-eastern man sitting against the front.
The man was working on a laptop while the woman simply stared.
“Hi,” Lisa said nervously as Amy shoved in behind her.
“Please,
have a seat,” the man said, closing his laptop.
The two girls looked from each other to Alex, then back, cautiously
sitting down on the side of the limo.
Alex slipped in last, closing the door behind him.
The blond woman knocked against the divider between the cabin and
the driver’s seat. The car
shifted smoothly into motion.
“Good
evening ladies,” the man said with only a subtle accent.
“My name is Assif Salem. I
am the director of the Paris-branch of the Advanced Paranormal Tactical
Responders. This is Sarah
Hollander, our team leader.” He
glanced to Alex. “And you
know Alex Tolkien.”
“Nice
work on the plane, by the way,” Sarah said with a professional smile.
“You try that ‘let’s keep it between us’ line every
time.” Alex held his hands
up in comical surrender.
“Where
are we going?” Lisa asked as she and Amy held hands supportively.
“Before
we begin, we’re going to take you to the base where we operate out
of,” Assif explained patiently. “There,
you can get some rest.” He
smiled knowingly. “You’re
looking at some very jarring jetlag for the next couple of days.”
“And
after that?” Amy asked.
“You
will be given a battery of aptitude tests,” Assif went on, “to
identify any talents you might have that the Responders could benefit
from.”
“And
if we do?” Lisa said.
“Should
you decline,” Assif added, “or should the tests prove that…your
talents do not lie in an area that we can utilize, you will be provided
transportation back to the United States.”
“What
is it that you think we can do?” Amy asked.
“Yeah,
and why us?” Lisa agreed. “Why
wouldn’t you, I don’t know, recruit from the military or the FBI or
something?”
“We
do sometimes,” Alex said, sitting in the back, next to Amy.
“But we generally prefer to work with individuals that do not
have…the pronounced patriotism that comes from working with a government
agency.”
“What
does that mean?” Lisa asked.
“It
means that we do not want people whose loyalties will be divided between
doing what’s right and doing what’s right for their particular
country,” Sarah explained coldly.
Lisa
and Amy looked at each other again, their uncertainty obvious.
“It’s always a scary thing to be put in this situation,”
Assif sympathized. “To be
thrust into the unknown, when the people who put you there are so
uncommunicative. Sadly, that
is the way that we generally must operate.
Its not optimal, but it is unfairly necessary.
We can’t tell you what we’re looking for because it may taint
the potential that you hold. And
we can’t give you the details of our group because of security
reasons.” He gave them a
paternal smile. “But
please, try to relax. You are in no danger.”
“Yet,”
Alex grumbled under his breath so only he heard.
A
moment passed as the city beyond passed by the tinted windows.
“Can you at least tell us,” Lisa started, but her voice
trailed, “what kind of group this is?”
She looked to Alex. “He
said that you do investigating and stuff.”
“What’s
mostly true,” Assif nodded conservatively.
“But
there’s more to it,” Amy observed.
“Can you at least give us an idea?”
“What
do we do,” Assif repeated. He
thought for a moment, then looked at Sarah. “The long answer,” she said as if out of patience, “is that we respond to and investigate any given situation which falls outside the parameters of national or international military or government responses.” She paused for a moment. “The short answer, however, is that we do a great deal of killing.” |
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