Route 66

32 Transformed

"The washrooms are out of order," the guard said with a thick European accent that was all business.

What was that? Did I just hear a muffled gunshot?

The blaring music from the concert hall was so loud that at first I thought it was my imagination but my gut told me otherwise.

I nodded to the guard and turned around.

In the fraction of a second that followed, a dialogue raged in my mind. Do I run for help? No, Paul is dead by the time it arrives.

Heng's words resonated with me. If the mind is ready, the body follows.

Here I was with thirty-five years of combat training housed in the nimble and precision tuned body of a twenty-one year old woman; thirty-five years to prepare for this very moment. All those years are meaningless unless I have the will and determination to take action.

I pivoted, glanced over my shoulder, and thrust my leg back into the guard's chest like a tightly coiled spring. His body torpedoed into the wall and bounced down the second set of stairs ending up in a motionless heap at the bottom. In two giant leaps I cleared them and flew over the body.

Brian lay face up, eyes open, before the restroom door. His fingers clutched a pistol and a pool of blood was collecting on the floor by his chest. I didn't have time to figure out if he was dead or alive because the door was slowly shutting as if someone had just walked in.

I hurled myself through and witnessed Paul with a look of terror as an assailant pointed a gun straight at his head. I rushed him from behind and brought my arm down hard on his trigger finger as the gun went off and flew from his hands, skidding to a stop under one of the stalls.

Paul yelled in excruciating pain and collapsed as a bullet tore into his leg and the assailant whipped around to face me with a look of momentary disbelief.

"Is this girl someone you know well, Doctor?" he scoffed.

Paul groaned and clutched his thigh; a thick bloody trail snaking down his trousers. "L-Leave her alone," he pleaded.

A sadistic smile crossed the face of the guard as he reached for my throat. He was hopelessly slow as I easily dodged out of the way.

"You're a very fast little girl," he marveled with a sneer.

Then he swung at my face and missed, driving his fist into the mirror. He howled as broken shards sliced into his knuckles, and in a growling rage, pulled out an enormous knife and thrust it at my heart. Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist with one hand as I drove my palm to his nose, sending him sprawling to the granite floor.

He cupped his face as blood seeped through the cracks of his fingers. I dove across the floor and grabbed the gun from under the stall as he slowly brought himself up to one knee. He never made it to his feet; collapsing face first with a bullet to his head from my precision shot.

I quickly knelt down beside Paul, grabbed my phone, and said, "I'm calling 911, I've got to get you to a hospital."

"I don't want you involved in this; to have to go in for questioning. You must keep yourself a secret. Do you understand?"

"All I understand is that you need help, Paul!"

The door to the restroom suddenly swung open and there, with his gun drawn, was the first security guard. The next moment he lay lifeless with a shot to his chest.

I held the gun poised in one hand while I punched "911" with the other.

"Veronica, stop. LISTEN."

I paused.

"Leave the gun with me. Is Brian dead?"

"Probably."

"Drag his body into the restroom. I'll tell the police there was a gunfight and I was the last one standing. I don't want anyone to know you were involved because they'll dig deeper and find out who you really are. You were just a bystander who called after the fact. Is that understood? I'm sure these men are assassins who work for Randolph and I don't want him or anyone else knowing that you're still alive. Take the keys out of Brian's pocket and drive home."

"But Paul-"

"Go! NOW!"

I nodded reluctantly, jumped to my feet, and finished the call. Then I dragged Brian's body in as Paul instructed.

"Let me know after they've fixed you up," I said.

He nodded as his face turned a sickly shade of white.

I sprinted to the main lobby and directed the security personnel to the balcony restroom bloodbath and then heard the roar of a distant siren as I jumped into the car and sped off; the grating sound of squealing tires echoing throughout the ramp.

Two conflicting voices tore at me the entire trip back. Yes, I was doing what Paul wanted but I should have stayed, he needs me.

I'll just grab a few things from the mansion and drive back.

As I finally approached the house, the gate stood unlocked and wedged open so I parked the car to the side and walked through on foot to minimize any attention.

There was a dim light coming from the attic. I recognized it as the study where Paul kept files and notes collected on his work with me. I stealthily approached, making my way to the back entrance and keenly aware of anyone that may be moving in any direction.

The complete silence was eerie.

A mysterious van was parked around back and peering through the window, I noticed it was filled with files, reports, and computers taken from our home.

Someone...was still here.

I sneaked in through the back door without making a sound and proceeded into the darkness and then crawled up the stairs carefully and kept low, pausing several times to listen for the sounds of footsteps, paper rustling, anything at all.

Nothing but dead silence.

I glanced into my room on the way up and gasped. All of my belongings were strewn across the rug and every drawer opened and emptied. Regaining composure, I continued up the stairs leading to the attic.

My breath quickened as the light seeping from the room illuminated the surrounding area. If anyone was in the right place they would see me slowly crawling up towards the open door. I bit my lip and approached the last couple stairs and could now see into the room.

As soon as I reached the landing, I quickly crawled to the side of the door and rose; glancing down the stairs for any movement.

With my heart thumping, I turned my head and peered into the room. When there were no signs of life, I stepped in and turned all the way around so I could see every inch of the space and sighed with relief. No one was here.

A shiver went up my spine as I realized that someone else knew my true identity. Those files in the van must have been related to Paul's work with me. They were all missing. A picture of Paul, Heng, and I lay cracked on the floor by the mahogany desk. It was an older picture taken by one of my first bodyguards and had been carefully hidden in one of the desk drawers. Paul's hair was still dark and Heng looked invincible.

Suddenly, right behind me, someone spoke.

"What is the secret to eternal life?"