The First Horseman (Spy Thriller-Area 51)

Chapter 3

3

We walked down Michigan Ave to a sleek hotel built of white brick across from Millennium Park. I and Stephen were greeted at the front desk by an older grey-haired mustached clerk, "Will it be credit or debit? He asked adjusting his forest green tie.

"It will be cash." I told him. His expression hinted he thought it strange I'd paid in cash. However strange he may have thought it was, he accepted and gave us each a key card to our room. I'd also asked for a room with a view of the park. We headed up to a fifth-floor suit and then walked down cleanly painted white hallways that were capped with Victorian style crown molding. I tapped my key card against the door of our room and immediately could see we were facing across from the chrome shimmering bean-shaped cloud gate sculpture at millennium park.

"Exactly why did I just get my hair dyed? I've been co-operating because, well, like you said, I'd like to live, but a hair salon? And we're in the damn city still! I needed to get the hell out of America!"

"If I could find you, then so can the rest of them," I responded.

"I was pretty much home free I thought. Now it's questionable!"

"Listen to me dammit, you were not home free!" I said grabbing Stephen by the label out of anger and with little regret. The room started spinning again as my patience had grown thin. I could now feel sweat dripping down my forehead.

"You're going to protect me? How? You can't even pull yourself together for two seconds."

He was right. I let go of him, stumbling into the washroom on the left and closing the door behind me. This time making it to the toilet before I brought up a yellow bile. The German, Dr Von-Kleist was right, I was a mess, and my body burned like I'd taxed every muscle in it.

"You dying in there? I mean what's the plan here, we sit in this hotel until we run out of money?"

I'd washed up again and toweled my face off. The warmth of the water had brought only momentary comfort to my condition. I stepped out into the grey carpeted hotel room after I'd composed myself. The accountant's blue eyes met my steely greys in an exchange that let him now I was frustrated, he swallowed nervously. His attitude mellowed, and he began to speak more calmly. "Look, I know I need all the help I can get. I know if you wanted me dead, I would be. I'm just freaking out a little right now, alright. I don't like not knowing what the future holds."

"The plan is, you stay in this room, unless I tell you otherwise. I needed a babysitter and you needed a change of appearance. That hair salon was the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone. While you were in there, I got some alternate clothes for you to wear, and supplies. I also made sure surveillance cameras saw me at two strategic locations across the park.

The people who are after you can piggyback any online camera signal they want to, and guess what? Nearly all of them are online."

"Listen, I know what I've gotten myself into alright. You may have skills that I don't, but I still feel I should have left on that flight. I would have been better off, I think. What is your name anyway, and what is going on with you? Why are you sick?"

"Michael, is my name, and if you left on that flight you'd have certainly been killed, somehow."

"Maybe you're right, I don't know. I wish I didn't have to think about it."

"What is it that you've done that made them want you killed amongst the masses of an airport terminal?"

"I have information on a secret society. They call themselves; The Disciples of Cain and they've silently taken over the underground operations at Area 51. They have an agenda that few outside their circle are aware of. They wish to test a biological weapon on their own people. They will kill an unprecedented number of American's if it goes according to plan. Then they'll likely use the same tactic around the world. These people have pulled the strings behind the scenes for quite a while, paying off or threatening anyone who opposes them. They've taken control of so much under our noses and it's scary."