Opaque

22 | Attacking the Bull's-Eye

"To have a light-bulb moment, the power has to be on." - Jennifer L. Feuerstein

Chapter Twenty-Two

Time was my frenemy. When I was relaxed, happy, and carefree, time slipped out of my hand like sand, and when I was impatient and stressed, it dragged on. I would've loved to say that I simply didn't notice when day turned to night and night turned to day-which was a common issue for insomniacs-but that would be a lie told with a straight-face.

After overhearing Axel, I felt as if I had been placed on a roller-coaster that not only climbed immeasurable heights and then dropped me, but also turned me inside out and twirled me in circles. Needless to say, I was pretty nauseous by the time I met up with Agent Beta in a small, homey, café. My relationship with her may be rocky at best, but we sure did have a lot in common. The prime example was that we both avoided major chains, such as Starbucks, with a passion and preferred to drink the freshly brewed teas-which were organically made by following family recipes which went back a few generations-in small cafes.

After engaging in small-talk with her-my mind was still stuck on Axel's words-I wandered aimlessly on the streets of New York City. The rest of the day, I felt as if I was separated from my body. I felt like an invisible ghost watching myself from a distance.

Sydney, Chad, and Andre were much easier to deal with than Mia and Ethan. They all offered solid explanations for their experience in fighting and my lie detector couldn't detect any dishonesty from them. Nevertheless, I still informed them that they had to attend a mandatory mental evaluation at the headquarters.

The following two days after that seemed to drag on for eternity. It was only forty-eight hours, but to me, it had felt like decades. Long story short, Sunday involved me sitting at home, reading a book, aimlessly sifting through files, while rain poured outside and Monday was a different story altogether. It was astounding to experience first-hand how people changed their opinions and behaviors once they knew that I was someone of importance. I could only shake my head at their superficial behavior and pretend to be oblivious to their painfully obvious shenanigans.

However, despite how slow those two days were, it was helpful to have a few days of peace and quiet before the heat turned up again and I became a work-obsessed maniac. It also built up anticipation and with my nerves bunched up like panties, I couldn't help but pace back and forth in the hallway as I stood outside the Evaluation Room on Tuesday afternoon.

Ethan sat inside the room, sweating bullets. Mia, Sydney, Chad, and Andre had all had their turns and were waiting for their results in the waiting room downstairs. Every single one of them had turned pale at the sight of the Machine, the one we used for these situations, and I was pretty sure the room inside was humid given the amount of sweat was produced from their bodies. For honest teenagers, they sure did show a lot of signs of being a liar.

Sadly for them, all of their sweat, nervousness, and anxiety was all for nothing. The test administrator, Dr. Hemsworth, was actually a twenty-five year old intern, working towards his degree, who just so happened to be a good friend of mine. I put the word friend very loosely for the definition of a friend hasn't been written in my mental dictionary yet. The Machine that they saw, the wires that were placed on their foreheads in several different locations of their skull, were all fake. There was a real mental evaluation room and a legit, tangible, lie detector, but this was not it.

I had lied to them, but I swore to myself-and Agent Beta, when I had informed her of my plan-that this was simply a precaution measure I had to take to find out the truth. With the other four-Mia being my prime suspect, alongside Ethan-already done with the artificial test, it all boiled down to the eighteen year old boy sitting in the room in front of me.

He couldn't see me, but I could do that and more. I heard every syllable that he uttered, I witnessed every gesture he made, and I evaluated every explanation he gave. Dr. Hemsworth, who, in reality, went by the name of August, did such a fantastic job of pretending to be a top-notch scientist slash psychiatrist slash doctor that even I almost fell for his act. Almost being a key word, of course.

Everything was going according to my plan. Every time the person in question gave enough proof to validate their honesty, I pressed a button on my watch which then caused August's watch to vibrate against his wrist. That was our sign and it had worked perfectly...

Blinking back into reality, I zoned into the conversation Ethan and August were having.

"Have you ever been assaulted," August asked him.

Ethan didn't reply. He glanced about the room with nervous eyes, his arms gripping the armrest and his knuckles turning white. August seemed to pick up on his suspicious behavior as well.

August repeated the question again, but this time in a more assertive, demanding, tone. He was good, I had to give him that. Ethan still did not reply.

Perhaps August noticed something that I didn't-which I highly doubted-but he changed the topic.

"Where did you learn to fight," August asked, his eyes on Ethan, his finger on the plastic knobs of the Machine.

"I...Uh..." Ethan was a lost child, unable to locate his parent's whereabouts. It was pitiful to watch him through the window pane. I wanted to shake him, smack some sense into his head, and force him to tell the truth.

There was a big possibility that Mia's life was in danger and if Ethan didn't open his mouth and spurt out the truth like blood, there was a chance, a risk, that he was someone's target as well. Everyone's life was on the line, but no one had it worse than Liz-the prime target.

"Is your life in danger or has it ever been threatened," August asked, changing the question again without hearing a response.

"No," Ethan answered, resembling himself more than before. His paleness had become less striking, but nonetheless, it was still there. The fear was clear in his eyes and so was his discomfort...

Though I pretend to be a very intellectual human being, with laser-like eyes and razor sharp instincts, I couldn't help but face-palm myself. I couldn't understand how I hadn't noticed it before. It was so clear, so visible, that it was like looking into a mirror.

Watching Ethan, I had a light-bulb moment-a vision of truth. His uneasiness at the restaurant, his image-related insults, him lying, were all obvious signs of the underlying truth and I had simply over-looked them. Perhaps because I was looking for something more sinister or maybe because I was a paranoid person by nature, but either way, I had ignored the tell-tale signs.

Nevertheless, I knew the truth. I pressed the button on my watch and watched as August turned to look at me quizzically. He couldn't see me, much like how Ethan couldn't either, but he knew I was there, watching. He gave me a suspicious look and then slightly turned his head upwards.

Wrapping up the evaluation, August took off the plastic wires from Ethan's body. I never knew what relief looked like until that moment and I also knew, at that point, what shame looked like.

For Ethan was not lying nor was he hiding something that would endanger anyone's life. He was simply ashamed, embarrassed, and I had an inkling about why.

As he left the room and stared at me in surprise-he probably wasn't expecting me to be waiting for him outside with a smile-I couldn't help but blurt out my suspicions.

"You were attacked, weren't you," I said and judging by his reaction-his eyes bulging out of their sockets and his jaw hanging-I knew I hit bull's eye.

—————————-