228 A New Threat
“Trust me, I did for sure,” Greg said. He got up, went to one of his pictures, and suddenly-he pulled it like a door and a computer was revealed behind the picture.
“What the...” I muttered in confusion, as he sat down and opened it up. On the screen was a GPS, or some sort of map.
“Now here’s what I’ve figured out, alright?” Greg said, which I nodded, baffled. “I looked around for any private islands which I found multiple, which luckily all of them had security cameras.”
“Alright.”
“So, when I looked at all of them-I found certain things. Nothing special at all, to be honest. Regular things usually happened, and well, some other things that were very-wild in this case happened,” Greg said.
Immediately, I knew what he was implying.
“But out of all of them, none of them had any sort of Matthew Lock settling in there,” he said, which I sighed, disappointed but also not really surprised.
“But then,” Greg suddenly remarked, as he began to flood through the keys until we landed on a certain island. Palm trees invaded the land, and green was the primary color of the entire island.
But what caught my attention more was the gigantic building-like some sort of embassy. Guards protected the front of the building, and cars went in and out of the entry.
.....
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThere were watchtowers placed probably a mile or two away from the building, with snipers that were watching closely.
“What place is this?!” I shrieked, horrified by what I saw. Greg sighed and said in response, “A new center for the TSA. They call it The Fillmore Center.”
“What does Fillmore stand for?” I asked.
“It’s not exactly an acronym. Actually, it’s named after one of the board committees of the TSA, Myron Fillmore,” Greg explained, and I nodded, understanding so far.
“Alright, so is this where Lock is?” I asked him which he gave a confident nod to, so I asked him again as if it were more of an assent rather than a confirmation of something: “Is this where he is?”
Greg’s eyes moved from me to the map on his screen, before he replied: “Probably.”
I nodded and stood up from the computer. “Well, what evidence do you have?” Greg said nothing, but switched to an angle inside of the base. It looked tall, very tall. The ceiling was probably fifty to sixty feet into the sky from the ground, and there were windows everywhere on the wall with soldiers inside of them. There were rows of lights on the ceiling of the first floor, and men with suits explored through the halls.
Greg switched to another place, a room this time that was smaller-almost classroom size. There was a long desk, about ten feet long and three feet wide. But there was only one man, which another was coming in. “Whoa, something’s happening?” Greg said, his eyes inches away from the screen as I continued to watch what happened on the screen. One man looked like his hair was long to his Adam’s apple, and there was some sort of tattoo on his left arm, which looked like an infinity symbol-but it wasn’t. There was also a beard, which was quite thick. The other one entering the room-conference room maybe-looked vaguely familiar, vaguely familiar.
“Wait, is that...” I muttered, and I began to smile like Greg. The menacing smile of what looked like a mad scientist that had just discovered something revolutionary. Greg began to turn up the volume quickly and our eyes were glued-pasted on the screen.
I took a seat once again, as the thick beard man opened his mouth.
“Hello, Matthew,” the man greeted. They shook hands briefly before Lock sat down in his seat. The man chuckled before he said, “You wanted to see me, right? You said it was a matter of emergency, a very concerning emergency.”
The man leaned in forward, as he appeared to be more interested in what Lock had to say than anything else.
“Yeah,” Lock responded slowly before he said with an edge in his voice: “The YMPA has Dr. Mord.”
The man’s smile disappeared in seconds as he laid back, his face as concerned as he feared. “They have Dr. Mord?”
“Yes, sir,” Lock said. I just realized how slick Lock’s voice sounded. Like a smooth cat that was purring, but very sly as well. It was quite unusual and very unnerving to me, in my opinion. “I’m afraid that he might spill, Mr. Bane,” Lock said.
“Mr. Bane?” Greg whispered in wonder, which I thought the same. “Who is he?”
“Dr. Mord most likely already did,” Mr. Bane said, looking at his watch. “He definitely already did. The man’s a wimp, and is barely anything of an agent. He’s just like how all the other BMO agents are.”
“Well, after all, he created us the virus, and it’s only a matter of time before the YMPA comes running after it,” Lock said, which then he leaned forward as if he was pleading. “I’m going to die, Mr. Bane. All of EMO is chasing after me to stop our plan. I’m going to need a miracle.”
Mr. Bane was thinking vigorously. He took many deep breaths before he glanced back at Matthew Lock.
“You have a miracle,” Mr. Bane said, as Lock’s face turned into a testimony of confusion.
“What?”
“My son.” Mr. Bane said as he leaned forward again and looked directly into Matthew’s eyes. “He’s an expert agent in the TSA field and is very talented.”
“Who is he?” he asked. Mr. Bane chuckled, slowly rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Luther, Luther Bane,” he said with a malicious tone, as he saw the confusion grow on Lock’s face even further. “The most important agent that you’ll ever meet.”
“Oh...” Matthew returned, looking as if he was unsure if he was thankful or not. Mr. Bane leaned in once again, “He’ll technically be your bodyguard. His team is very skilled and elite, so if any sort of agent from any EMO organization tries to kill you, they’re going to have to get through my son first.”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmShock and fear rolled like a ball through my mind. The TSA are literally protecting him like a VIP, like some president or something.
“I’ve been training him since he was a toddler,” Mr. Bane said, as his eyes narrowed, “He’s been training for this moment for years.” Lock nodded as he looked at Matthew. “And he’s never failed me yet.”
“Great.”
Mr. Bane continued talking. “As for why I chose him... well...” Mr. Bane looked away, as he said, “Because he’s my son.”
Lock leaned in as if he was almost disgusted by Mr. Bane’s choice. Mr. Bane turned and looked at him. “I’ll send an escort to get you somewhere first, because we don’t want anyone finding out you’re here.” He stood up and opened up his cellphone. He dialed something quickly and put it back in his pocket. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know, I’ll think about it,” Lock said, as he got up to his feet and exited the room.
The excitement on Greg’s face was exploding as I thought about what had happened with us all today. We were on the brink of something big here. The next move that would happen could very well be a historical move in the making here! Well, at least in the history of spy mages-nevertheless, this is huge!
“But where is he going, though?” I asked, and Greg’s celebration stopped to a halt, as if it was overcast by an overcast sky. He looked back at me with a grave expression that said little as he muttered, “I don’t know.”
“Well, we need to figure that out, but we can at least tell everyone where they are and what’s happened so far,” I said, getting out my phone. “You got any food?”
Greg reached for his backpack and opened up the middle pouch, pulling out some trail mix and handed it to me as I took it from his hands and munched on it while I began to make a call on my phone. I needed to call Nikki, since she gave me the info in the first place. “Hey, Nikki. We found something that might be very useful. In fact, it will be very useful.”
“Okay, okay, okay!” she said, as I heard the fastest footsteps I have ever heard from a phone. “Okay, what is it?”
“Well, we found where Lock is. He’s at the Fillmore Center, a TSA private island,” I explained to her, as she sighed and began to laugh.
“You’re kidding me!” Nikki exclaimed. I knew she was excited by it and all, but she really wasn’t expecting it either. “I’m pretty sure I’m not,” I said. “Anyway, so we went inside of the cameras and we found him talking with someone named Mr. Bane. He knows we apprehended Dr. Mord and that he spilled to us about Lock.”
“Mmmm,” Nikki listened keenly.
“Now, Mr. Bane has a son named Luthor, who has a team ready to keep Lock safe as long as we’re chasing after him,” I said, which I could only imagine the surprise on Nikki’s face. “So we need to figure out where he’s going first so that we can intercept him.”
Nikki said nothing, but let me know she was taking notes and writing things down as I spoke to her. “Tell this to Mr. Drails,” I said. “He might find something.”