Wrong dose

Chapter 12

The man stepped off the private plane, briefly glancing back to see if his wife was following. Satisfied, he gripped his briefcase tightly and hurried to the luggage retrieval area of the airport. The man stifled a yawn. The plane ride had been a long one, and though he hated to admit it, he wanted to rest. The research and experimenting had taken its toll on him and before beginning the search tomorrow, it was important he had energy. Turning back once more, he beckoned for his wife to hurry. The earlier they went to sleep, the earlier they would begin investigating. It was crucial they found the twins, if they wanted the serum to succeed.
********
Twenty-four hours later, the man was sitting in front of the expensive computer that had been set up in their suite.
"Bring me the papers," he ordered his wife. The woman quickly handed him a small stack of files, the list of possible orphanages the twins could have been sent to. The man riffled through them, searching for the ones located in Ohio. He discarded those of a few other states, such as Texas. Those were all the states where he had sent Clarice, who had reported to them saying they held no evidence.
Finally satisfied, the man scanned down the list of names, wondering which one to start with. He ordered his wife to come over.
"I need you to put this in the map-maker," he told her, "Make it fast."
"Of course," muttered the wife.
The map-maker was an invention of theirs, one of the man's personal favorites. It was a small screen equipped with a keyboard--almost like a phone--into which you would type a list of locations. The map engine would generate a map of some sorts, including each location, and an outlined route showing the fastest way to get there. It even had a built-in GPS. The ghost of a smirk fluttered across his mouth as he remembered how he had stolen a police car to test it out. When the map finished generating, the man quickly printed it out.
********
Several hours later, he and his wife had  returned to their suite with the information they had been looking for.
"Get some sleep," he told his wife, "You'll need it."
They had things to do tonight.
*********
Principal Montry closed his briefcase sharply and tiredly ran a hand over his eyes. As usual, it had been a long day, and he was glad it was over. Reprimanding troublesome middle schoolers, signing forms, and replying to emails had taken their toll on him over the years. Mason Montry's hair was streaked with gray, his back slightly hunched thanks to hours sitting at his desk, and under his eyes were tired bags that never seemed to leave.
Eager to get home and eat dinner, Montry shrugged on his coat, grabbed his briefcase, and exited the school. The cool night air hit his face, refreshing him. He hurried towards his parking spot, taking his car keys out of his pockets as he walked. Just as Montry's hand closed around car door's handle, he felt someone grasp his shoulder. Letting out a faint exclamation of surprise, he whirled around to face a man and a woman hovering behind him. Montry squinted, trying to make out the man's facial features, but the combination of darkness and bad eyesight did not permit it. All Montry saw was that the man was wearing a rather expensive-looking suit, along with a scarf and dark sunglasses, despite the fact that it was dark outside.
"What do you want?" Asked Montry, suspicious. He had never seen these people before. Why were they here?
"Oh, nothing much," smoothly replied the man, "We just need you to answer a few questions, then we'll leave you to your business, Mr. Montry."
"How do you even know my name?" Exclaimed Montry, alarmed. These were complete strangers to him, yet they knew who he was, his workplace, and his schedule. Perhaps he should call the police.
His decision made, Montry tried to take his phone out from his suit pocket as discreetly as possible, so as to not alert the man and the woman of his actions.
"Now," continued the man,"you are principal of Nathan Adams Middle School, correct?"
Montry hesitated to answer. He would be unveiling  his  personal life to a complete stranger.
The man must have seen his unwillingness because he smiled chillingly.
"There is no need to worry, Mr. Montry, I assure you," he said, "that is, unless you don't comply with our requests."
Before he knew what had happened, Montry felt the smooth, cold,  tip of a pistol touching his temple. He paled. Oh, he was definitely calling the police.
As the man repeated his question, Montry's eyes flickered down to his hand holding the phone. If he tried to run while the man was still speaking, perhaps he could...
"Calling the police?" Whispered the man, leaning in so that their noses were almost touching. Montry gulped nervously and silently shook his head.
"Good," said the man, satisfied, "Because if you do, your family will suffer. Your wife is currently at home, preparing dinner--it would be a shame if the stove somehow caught fire while she was cooking, wouldn't it?" The man's eyes glinted dangerously, and any hopes Montry held disappeared. He would just have to comply.
"Very well. I will repeat the first question one last time. You are the principal of this school, correct?"
"Yes." Replied Montry, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And do you know whether the following people attend: Skylar James and Jake O'Malley?"
"Sir, you go too far!" Protested Montry,"I cannot divulge private information about people without per--"
"Just answer the question."
Montry shivered as the pistol dug into his skin. He wracked his brain for an answer, desperately hoping he wouldn't come up with anything. Unfortunately, he did. The name Jake O'Malley immediately sparked something. Wasn't he that kid who had gotten perfect grades in all his subjects ever since he had attended the school? And he remembered that Skylar James was the girl who had begun attending only a couple of weeks ago.
"Yes, they both go here." Resignedly said the principal.
"Wonderful," calmly said the man, lowering the pistol from Montry's temple. "I'm sure you won't mind me and my wife coming to your school tomorrow to interrogate some students at random?"
The idea to refuse never even crossed Montry's mind.
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Whoa things are getting intense here!! What do you think will happen next?!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Vote and comment!