Saturday 11th August, 2040.
HQ- Section 2, Quarter 1.
9:56pm.
___________________"Pew pew pew! Duck you idiot, duck!" Alan shrieks. His annoying little footsteps fill the almost empty room as he runs around in endless circles. He bumps into the wooden console table a couple feet in front of me which is placed directly below the muted television. I watch in horror as the 30 centimeter gray vase, no longer than my arm wobbles precariously from left to right on the table, threatening to fall to the ground. Luckily, it comes to a halt. A breath I didn't know I was holding escapes through my mouth followed by a scowl in Alan's direction. I know he's five years old but are five year olds usually this careless? I don't remember being this negligent when I was his age. If anything, I am certain one tight-lipped, icy glare from dad would have made me behave.
Alan then scurries behind the couch I'm seated on. Through the corner of my eye, I make out his jet black hair coming up slowly. His black plastic toy gun which is pointed at me emerges next.
"Any last words agent Z?" He breathes, barely able to contain his excitement.My foot taps impatiently against the carpeted floor and my fingers tug at the ends of the black compression gloves which shield majority of my hands and only leave the tips of my fingers exposed. I believe the real question Alan should ask me is 'how much longer can you manage to mask your irritation?'
"Get me out of here." I mutter in response to his question."You don't have to tell me twice!" His excitement bubbles in his voice. Alan pulls the trigger and with one exaggerated gunshot sound from his toy, I roll my eyes. He bursts into fits of giggles. "Saylor you have to pretend to die."
Maybe on any other day I would have at least attempted to engage Alan. Against my best wishes I would have swallowed my pride and found it within me somewhere to close my eyes and tilt my head to the side as I pretend to die when he pulled the trigger. But not today. I'm too angry at dad to try.
I tug my jacket sleeve back and stare at my silver Kairos wristwatch. 10pm. I press my thumb and index fingers against the bridge of my nose as a dull ache begins to spread across my forehead. I can't believe this is how this night is going to end. I can't believe I got dressed in a black tuxedo with a red bow tie and all I did was wait here in this room and babysit this child. This is not fair! Dad said he was going to give me a tour of the headquarters today. He said he'd keep his word. I was meant to get the chance to feel like an actual spy. I was even hoping he would introduce me to other spies and I might have had the opportunity to converse with them.
I would give anything to listen to them talk about their experiences during missions. I want to hear about their achievements and even their failures. But honestly, I doubt the reality that dad would introduce me to any spy would actually happen. He would never ever put me in the limelight. If anything, he strives to make me as inconspicuous as possible. Even now his words fill my head, 'The world is dangerous, Saylor. There are far fewer good guys than you think.'
I huff out a tired breath. The reasonable part of me wonders why I didn't see this coming. The failure on his part to actually keep his word. It's my dad after all. My overprotective father that wants to shield me from everything seen and unseen. My secretive father that doesn't let me in on anything. My father who fails at keeping promises.
'Don't leave the waiting room until I come and get you.' I vividly remember him saying this to me nearly three hours ago when we arrived. The story of my life; don't do this without my permission, don't do that without my permission, don't go anywhere unless I send a whole battalion to back you up and keep you safe.
I fix my angry glare at the muted television as the newscaster's mouth moves without pause. My eyes dart over the news heading.
'UNPRECEDENTED SHOOT-OUT IN SECTION 1 OF THE UNION ON FRIDAY 10TH AUGUST, 2040. ELUSIVE SUPECTS REMAIN AT LARGE.'
YOU ARE READING
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