Code: 16B

Chapter Thirteen

Thirteen

    I tried to make myself comfortable with some of their books, and TV—it was the only electronic device that I could use without someone tracing the signal back to the safe house. Violet and Garrett tried to help by joining me in front of the TV. Whenever I tried to beg them to let me call someone on the outside, they constantly remind me that it is dangerous.

    Violet had said, “Amanda, did you know that the FBI has already made it to where they can trace calls, and or listen in, even if you call on a cell phone?”

    “Are you sure?” I had said, already on high alert.

    “We wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t for your safety.” Garrett had said.

    It was then that I gave up, and turned back to the TV. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was watching at the time, a Comedy Central Special I think, but I didn’t care.

    It wasn’t long until it was already dark outside, and Violet and Garrett were already on their way to do their job, and I’m stuck with Cyrus as my babysitter for the evening.

    I was watching a recorded episode of Glee that was on the DVR when Cyrus came into the living room, and he takes a seat right next to me on the couch. At first, I tried to ignore him, tried to keep myself focused on Mark Salling singing his version of Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.” 

    “You look bored.” He said observantly, and I could’ve sworn that it almost scared the crap out of me, but I was glad that it didn’t.

    I was still mad at him for lying to me, and part of me still wants to punch him in the face. So, instead of doing that random act of violence, I said, “You notice a lot of things, don’t you?” I didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.

    “Sorry, it’s what I was trained for.” He apologized.

    After a moment of silence, I quickly, and almost immediately grew tired of it. “Okay, I’ll bite. How is it part of your training?” I asked.

    He laughed briefly before he began. “Well, every once in a while whenever an agent captures an enemy they have to interrogate him, or her, if it’s necessary. If you seen Law & Order you probably know what I’m talking about.”

    Sadly, I did know what he’s talking about, but I don’t show it. I now regret watching that stupid show with my dad every Saturday night. “Oh.” I simply said without any emotion.

    Then, it went back to another round of awkward silence. I desperately did not want to be the one to break it, and I wouldn’t have if I weren’t on the verge of dying of boredom. I tried once again to pay attention to the screen, but I was already failing successfully.

    “Is there something else to do?” I asked, and I finally looked at him. He just sat on the other side of the couch, looking nonchalant.

    “We have a pool.” He said, again with the nonchalance.

    I was about to agree with him, but I immediately remembered one small little detail. “I don’t have a swim suit.” I said and I noticed belatedly that my voice held a little bit of fear.

    “Violet might have extras.” He said almost immediately, and confidentially. “Her room is upstairs, down the hall, and the second door on your right. The restroom is across the hall from there for you to change.”

     “Thanks.” I mumbled as I got up from the couch, and followed his directions.

    I carefully took the stairs with my hand on the handrail. Along the way, I couldn’t help but notice a couple of framed pictures. I recognized the person in the pictures as Cyrus, but he was in many different exotic places. Paris, London, Moscow, Rome, and what I believe—from a Google image search I’ve done sometime last week—is downtown Queenstown, in Singapore. I didn’t know what to think, except wonder how he managed to travel to such exotic locations. Places that I would kill to go…if I can afford a passport.