Spy School Goes to Trial

Chapter 10 - Project X

Safe House
Top Secret Location, Virginia
May 30
0830 hours

Alexander and Trixie used our only form of transportation to go back to her boarding school. There was some risk with this, but we felt pretty sure that it was safe, since it was unlikely Joshua Hallal and his henchman saw the backup car. Even if they tracked down the minivan, it was well-hidden in a parking garage, they wouldn't be able to comb through security footage, because there wasn't any. That was one of the reasons Catherine had chosen that garage.

The real risk was what would happen back at the boarding school. I don't know if any of us really were convinced that Alexander would be capable of protecting Trixie, even he didn't seem convinced this was a good idea. His eyes had a deer in the headlights look since Catherine told him to protect their youngest daughter.

Trixie's eyes were glossy as she hugged Erica and Catherine goodbye. She saved Mike for last, and it lasted the longest. I wasn't sure, but Mike looked almost as emotional about it.

It was decided that we would split up from the apartment rather than head back to the school as a group. This way, Catherine and I could arrive in advance and keep watch on Erica and Mike's arrival. Before leaving, Catherine insisted we stop for breakfast and eat something. So each pair selected a restaurant that was on opposite ends of the nearest main street. From there, we would be picked up by a taxicab and be taken to campus.

Catherine and I chose the closest restaurant because of her broken leg. It turned out this was a 1950s themed diner. Possibly, it was actually from the 1950s and had never changed the exterior or interior. Or, the employees for that matter.

The restaurant was clearly filled with locals. A number of them turned as we entered, expecting to see someone they knew. A sign at the hostess stand indicated we should seat ourselves, so we selected a booth towards the back. It was near the bathrooms, and an emergency exit door, making it easier to make an escape if we needed to.

The booth had the original red vinyl benches. At least, I thought they were supposed to be red, but the color had faded to something nearer a grey color. I could feel the plastic stick to the back of my legs as I sat down. Or, I hoped it was the plastic, and not some sort of gooey substance at the bottom of the bench.

There were two menus laying on the tabletop next to a small jukebox that did not appear to work anymore. Pictures of famous celebrities from the 1950s hung on the wall. Some seemed to be the real celebrity and others were look-a-likes. There was a group of Elvis impersonators in one. One of the Elvises looked vaguely familiar, but I didn't mention this to Catherine.

I peeled one of the menus off the formica table top, but the other came with it, stuck together by what I hoped was maple syrup. Between the events of yesterday, the stress of the morning, and being drugged, I was not particularly hungry to begin with; this was certainly not helping.

The waitress came over, and she was exactly how you might imagine a waitress from a 1950s diner would look, except instead of being youthful she was worn out. It seemed she started working there the day they opened and never left. I half expected to see a lit cigarette hanging from her lower lip, but instead she held a lukewarm pot of weak-looking coffee.

"Well aren't you a lucky lady to have such a fine young gentleman escort you to breakfast," she said, giving me a quick wink and nudge with her elbow. Admittedly, I was not really in the mood for her friendliness, but attempted to give her a smile back. Disappointed, she turned her attention over to Catherine who was better able to play along.

Catherine shrugged, smiled and said, "Teenagers."

I was astonished that Catherine had shifted into a traditional American southern accent, instead of her lilting British one. She had adapted so quickly, mimicking the waitress' behavior, that I felt immediately embarrassed for not thinking of doing something similar.