Elliott Miller is your average 23 year-old, only with a lost father and a resentful mother. When he goes back to his hometown to make amends, he inadvertently gets dragged into the activities of an illicit criminal group.
Enter Marcel Nixon, 25, wh...
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I tapped my foot nervously against the floor, looking around in hopes of distracting myself. The lavish interiors of this office floor coupled with the itchy, expensive suit I was wearing did little to calm my jittery nerves.
The door opened and Marcel motioned for me to come inside. I took a deep breath and gave him a pleading look. He stepped aside and gave me a firm nod, signalling that there was no going back now.
I walked past him and into the capacious room, marveling at its elegant and modern design. At the desk sat a powerful-looking man who appeared to be in his early sixties. His appearance was clean-cut with his hair and beard neatly trimmed. He was also wearing a black suit similar to mine but somehow looked much more put together. I took in his whole figure as he stood up from his seat and couldn't help but feel intimidated by his commanding frame.
"Have a seat," he said and motioned for me to sit down. His voice was deep and he spoke with a noticeable amount of Received Pronunciation.
He gestured for Marcel to take his seat beside mine, before sitting down himself.
"I'm so glad that we've finally gotten the opportunity to acquaint ourselves. I'm Dawson Gray, the CEO of Intech Solutions, which is the pseudonym of our surveillance organization. Marcel reports directly to me and I trust that he has provided you with a suitable explanation of this organization, allowing me to spare the details."
Although it had only been a minute of conversation, I was getting really fidgety and my anxiety was beginning to kick in. Mr. Gray seemed to have realized this and politely asked Marcel to leave the room so it was just him and me. I wasn't entirely sure that it would calm me down since I had warmed up to Marcel's presence over the last couple of days but I decided to to try and take a deep breath, and hear him out.
"First off, I do apologize for the grave inconveniences that we may have caused over the past few weeks but I hope you understand that this is being done for your own safety as well as for the safety of countless others."
He paused to take a sip of water.
"I'll also add that you're in excellent hands. I've known Marcel ever since he was a child and I can say with a hundred percent confidence that he'd never do anything to harm you or let anyone inflict harm onto you. He's very skilled at what he does, and while I sincerely hope he'd never have to display it, it's definitely something to marvel. All I ask of you is to trust me on this."
His eyes glimmered with pride while talking about Marcel and I couldn't help but wonder if their relationship extended beyond just employer and employee.
"I'm sorry sir, as much as I'd like to take your word for these tales you're giving me, it would be nice to have some sort of evidence to confirm that you're not out to hurt me."
He listened carefully to what I said and fell back on his chair, seeming to be lost in his abyss of thoughts. After approximately two minutes of painful silence, he spoke up.
"Your apprehension is valid. Considering the situation and the high stakes involved in this particularly risky operation, I have decided to show you something that no other client we've worked with has seen till now. However, you must sign a non-disclosure agreement."
By then I must have assumed a panicked expression as he rose from his seat and hastened to explain, "It is simply a precaution that we must take. You seem like a trustworthy individual but our archives contain highly classified information that you cannot blurt out at any cost."
He produced some papers from beneath the desk and provided me with an expensive-looking pen to sign them. I quickly skimmed over the content, making sure to read the fine print, before feeling satisfied about their legitimacy. I scribbled my signature below and handed them back to him.
"Now, if you would follow me, we can get there right away. We cannot afford to waste any extra time we might have on our hands."
I got up and followed as he strode out of the office. As I stepped out, I noticed him giving Marcel some instructions. The latter curtly nodded and disappeared off to Heaven knows where.
We then walked towards the place where the elevators were, and surprisingly, although suspiciously, Mr. Gray pushed a part of the wall beside them and it turned over, revealing a separate, hidden elevator with only one black button marked downwards.
He motioned for me to follow and we squeezed into the narrow space between the wall and the elevator. He pushed the wall back into place, presumably to avoid arousing suspicion, and we walked into the now open elevator.
Momentarily, we seemed to be zipping downwards but soon, the doors opened into a dark, yet well ventilated basement with a distinct odor of insect repellent.
There was a dim light that shone in the corner along with the sound of faint rustling. I thought it was a rat and gulped in fright, ready to bolt out of there the moment I saw one. Much to my relief, though, it was just Marcel who was shuffling through a box of documents that was placed on a rusty iron table.
"Here you go, sir."
Mr. Gray took the documents and turned to me, opening up one of the packets.
"This whole storage unit contains every single detail of all our missions, down to the diets of housekeepers that criminals have come in contact with or their nighttime routines. Everything has been preserved in pristine condition till date."
I stared in amazement around me as I began to realize the sheer size of this basement he called a storage unit. I slowly received the packet and carefully slid out one of the papers, taking utmost caution not to be clumsy and rip something. I glanced over it and was amazed at the detailed description that was before my eyes. Of me! Or more specifically, how I encountered Marcel.
"But sir, Marcel told me that he knew nothing of my personal life. Have I been lied to?"
I turned to him and tried to read his expression but he was stoic, showing no sign of guilt.
"He was speaking the truth. These details are only stored as proofs of our missions, lest we incur a lawsuit. They are, as I said, highly classified so they are not given to any layman. For that matter, even I have not gone though the majority of this information, nor do I intend to. There's a reason that I'm only revealing your file to you."
I glanced over the paper and noticed a seal at the bottom. In the faint light, I could make out that it was a stamp of the FBI. Maybe they were telling the truth.
Right there, I figured that I could trust Mr. Gray's words. If they really intended to keep me safe, then it would benefit me. Otherwise, I could simply turn them in to the authorities for forgery and possession of illegal documents.
I put the paper back in its place and handed it over to Marcel. He kept it back in the box and onto the shelf from which he procured it in the first place.
We walked back to the elevator and made our way back to Mr Gray's office.
"All right then, I hope you can trust us with your safety now. You may head back with Marcel to the safe house. Please do remember, he will be accompanying you henceforth at all times outside the house. He has been instructed not to interfere with your personal life and remain at an acceptable distance so as to keep an eye on any suspicious activities around you. With that said, you may go on with your personal life as you did earlier."
"Yes sir, thank you."
He shook my hand curtly and I followed Marcel out of there.
"See, it wasn't so bad."
I could only mumble something in return and then there was silence.
