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This is the sixth time this month Aaron has found a sticky note on the lamp labeling it as God.
Either it’s another one of those self-proclaimed “Greatest Pranks of All Time” by that one kid on the second floor with a minor in psychology, or someone has some really interesting religious beliefs.
And now he’s even more curious.
But unfortunately, his curiosity is going to have to wait until he’s not late for a meeting Kevin called in.
Aaron snatches the sticky note off the lampshade and crumbles it, tossing it into the way-too-small trash bin at the end of the counter. His next stop takes him to the fridge. Opening the doors, he is immediately hit with a wave of refreshing air that feels cool against his skin compared to the humidity outside that follows any storm during the spring. He grabs a Celsius because the Lord knows he needs it to last the night. For some reason, Kevin seems to be allergic to going on missions during daylight hours.
He makes a mental note to look into those vampire allegations Denny mentioned he was conjuring up a few days ago.
He shuts the door and leaves the kitchen and rain-soaked window behind him. The crack of his Celsius is followed by a loud fizz and attracts the attention of someone nearby—Noah, if he can recall correctly. Nice guy, higher up than Aaron is in terms of rank, but he’s always making sure Aaron has everything he needs. They share a smile and a short wave before Aaron turns another corner and disappears from the man’s sight.
The hallways to the team’s private meeting room are painfully modern with tall windows exposing white-colored furniture and dark grey carpet he’s never stepped foot on. Each room looks like the architect copied and pasted the same design back to back and called it a day. There are some plants tucked away in corners here and there, and some of his coworkers actually have the great idea of personalizing their workspace which is nice. But for the most part, he’s cursed with the image of the same modernized bullshit every agency seems to have these days. Because nothing screams “secret spy agency” more than blinding white.
Someone seriously needs to make a change in the architecture department.
Despite the late hours of the night, Aaron comes across quite a few people and greets them all with a nod of his head and a smile. One thing he likes about this place is how full of life it always is no matter the time. It may not be bustling with people like morning hours are, but Aaron won’t complain about being able to move through the hallways without running into people.
The elevator ride to the basement floor is quiet and Aaron reflects on Kevin’s other bad habit of never giving at least a brief explanation of why they’ve been called. He can never distinguish how serious it is until he’s walking through the door and Kevin’s talking about docking his pay like he’s a rich white man or something.
Thunder booms overhead at the same time the elevator dings to signal he’s made it to his destination.
The basement is used as a car garage to hold vehicles that you definitely would not find in a typical car garage. A helicopter looms in the far corner and it’s probably the only vehicle he can without a doubt name in the room right now. Zane’s their Tech guy, not Aaron.
Besides, the only thing worthy of his attention right now is the elevator beyond some mix of a car and a tank.
He does a quick glance over his shoulder and enters, tapping in his personalized code. An automated voice fills up the space alongside him as the doors shut, “Room 039.”
He mentally prepares himself by taking a sip of his Celsius.
A soft slip of conversation weaves its way through the crack of the elevator door as it slides open. The walls of their briefing room are a dark grey. It’s a stark contrast to the white, but still dull and boring. The only sources of lighting are the holographic screens displayed on the far side wall, a teal LED stripe running around the whole room, and a singular fluorescent light dangling above the middle of the long meeting table.
Katherine’s silhouette is the first thing he sees as it blocks part of the screens from his view and she turns at the sound of the elevator.
“Well, look who it is—A Boogie,” Denny says and Aaron finds his friend sitting by Kevin at the end of the table with Herm standing behind him.
“Damn, Aaron,” Herm says. “That’s like the fifth time this month.”
Aaron shakes his head slightly, “Got caught up in the storm, man. Kevin, are you sick or something?”
Denny turns to Kevin with his classic smile that screams mischievous, “Yeah, you did sneeze earlier didn’t you?”
“Brought a hurricane,” Zane says from over by the whiteboard on the wall covered in half-erased Expo marker that has been stuck there for who knows how long.
A small laugh escaped Aaron as he took this opportunity to add, “Must have been the allergies to sunlight.”
“Right,” Herm agrees. “I was in the middle of something, Kevin.”
“In the middle of setting up that tent maybe,” Kevin retorts as he opens the vanilla folder in front of him.
The comment sets off a ripple of light-hearted banter and laughter through the room as Aaron takes a seat next to Denny. The familiar rhythm of their dynamic flows through the air like a song that has finally been released—Aaron was the missing bridge.
He was the last one to officially be added to the team a little over a year and a half ago, but it feels like he’s always been here. Always belonged right here in this room surrounded by these people he’s learned to call his family instead of coworkers. Well, Denny’s always been there for him, but he didn’t know much about the others other than what Denny supplied him with. Aaron—you gotta hear about this guy we took down the other day! Kev was convinced the dude was a lifeguard or something with the way he dived into that pool.
“Alright,” Kevin begins after the atmosphere has died down a bit. His voice is the kind of loud that commands a room’s attention almost instantaneously, and the way he positions himself gives Aaron the impression he’d make a good television show host in another life. “Zane, can you pull up the map of the facility?”
Zane nods and joins them at the table. He presses something below and a holographic image of a building shoots into view from the center.
“Here’s the rundown,” Kevin begins and Aaron sits up a little straighter. “The anonymous report called in that there is a dangerous substance somewhere inside. What this substance is, we have no idea.”
Aaron feels the energy shift a little bit at his friend’s words and his brows furrow, but he bites back the question that’s probably in everyone’s mind and lets Kevin continue.
“Which is why—“ Kevin says, noticing the shift as well, “—we were also given the task of locating files about the substance.”
“T3F-4,” Zane cuts in. “It looks teal-ish. Darker than water, that’s for sure.”
It’s Katherine’s turn to cut in as she fiddles with a few tabs on one of the blue screens before turning to them. “It’s supposed to be an old research facility on the outskirts of the city. Your classic sci-fi laboratory—a bit different from the movies, but similar enough. City wants to tear it down this September, and the report says it’s been empty for months, but…” She trails off, leaving room for Zane to jump in again.
He does, zooming in even further into the transparent blue building in front of them until the layout of a room is visible with items still neatly on display as if the employees were simply on break. “Doesn’t look like it,” Zane explains. He presses something else under the table and the room switches to a blueprint of the interior.
“So we’re gonna take it easy,” Kevin says. “Watch each other’s backs. I scouted the perimeter on the way to the agency and saw a truck near the back entrance. Denny and Aaron,” he turns to them. “I want you to enter that way. Take back right, see if what we’re looking for is there.”
Aaron nods and takes another sip. He turns his attention to the blueprint, already mapping out a mental route for him and Denny to take.
“Me and Zane are going in through the front near the control room. Just in case anything goes south, Zane should be able to help via the controls. We’ll check those rooms too,” Kevin says. He turns to Herm. “Herm, you’re on your own for this one. There’s a ladder by the back, I want you to take it to the roof and check the perimeter again just to be sure. Then take back left.”
Kevin looks around to see if everyone understood, “Questions? Concerns?”
“How big is this place?” Herm asks.
“Fairly large,” Zane replies. “For a one-story building at least.”
“Comms will be active, electricity is off so we’re gonna need flashlights,” Kevin adds. “Katherine? I want you and Madison to do some research on who used to work there. Old employees, bosses, anybody who has stepped foot in that building along with any extra information you think is important just in case it’s needed. I think Matt’s here tonight if you two need help or want company.”
The room falls silent for all but two seconds and Aaron’s only mildly upset he didn’t get to finish his Celsius.
Satisfied with whatever it is Kevin was searching for in their faces, he shuts the folder and stands up. “Grab your gear, we’re gone in twenty.”
The city lights shine mesmerizingly behind them as Denny follows Kevin’s car around another corner.
They pass street lamps and signs lit up by their car’s headlights as they snake their way through backroads and neighborhood houses that loom in the shadows as if they’ve been abandoned as well. It’s not a popular side of the city that’s for sure, and they only pass by one or two houses with lights still on, but that does nothing except make it a better atmosphere for them to get to the facility without being seen. Thunder still booms overhead with no sign of letting up anytime soon, so they’re in for an annoying walk. At least it’s not cold.
Aaron finds himself being forced to squint to make out words through the blurry distortion the rain oh so helpfully provides, but he spots the street they’re supposed to turn down soon enough.
“Brentwood Avenue,” He announces.
Denny veers off the rails of their car train and turns down the smaller road off to the right. Lightning illuminates the hanging branches of trees in front yards they pass by and Aaron notices distantly that he can see the outline of the facility two blocks or so away.
Denny pulls over and parks the car.
By the time they check that they have all their gear and exit, the rain is pounding down so hard it’s almost painful, and the gun at his hip suddenly feels a lot heavier than it did moments ago. It’s a normal reaction—the tightening in his chest. It always shows up like those God-labeling sticky notes before missions to remind him what they’re doing is unmistakably real and could go wrong at any second.
But it could also go right.
He has to remind himself of this.
The walk to the facility was one full of complaining. Mostly on Denny’s end—mumbling about how someone needs to make a weather machine to monitor Kevin’s sneezes. Herm was mostly quiet, throwing out a comment every once in a while and adjusting the sniper over his shoulder. Kevin suggested that he probably wouldn’t need it on this mission, but Herm still brought it anyway.
When they got to the fence surrounding the place it wasn’t hard to find an opening. One of the first things Aaron notices is the beat-down truck Kevin said he saw parked a couple of meters away from the back door. It looks as if it’s running on nothing apart from hopes and prayers, but Aaron isn’t one to judge.
They reach the back door and Denny turns on his flashlight, “Alright, Herm.”
Herm nods and gives them daps with well wishes before making his way over to the rustic ladder that probably hasn’t been touched since the place shut down.
“Try not to steal that truck,” Aaron calls and Denny snorts.
“As long as you get whatever that is off your lip,” Herm replies.
Aaron brings a hand up to wipe at his mouth instinctively and to play more into the bit. Denny reaches a hand out to latch onto Aaron’s arm for support in his laughing.
Aaron shakes his head and pushes past his best friend to check the door, taking his gun out of his holster in preparation. Denny pulls himself together and gets ready behind Aaron with the ghost of a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth. The handle is cool to the touch as Aaron reaches for it and pushes down only for it to stop midway.
“Locked,” he whispers and hands his flashlight to Denny so he can pull the lock pick out of his pocket. He knew this would come in use for something. He makes a mental note to ask Zane for his five-dollar bet winnings later.
He slots the pick in and wiggles it around before hearing a click.
Just then, their comms crackle to life and Kevin’s voice cuts in between the static. He sounds like he’s on the other side of a drive-through. “Alright, me and Zane are in.”
Aaron turns around and nods at Denny, taking his flashlight back before pushing the door open.
They go in with guns held high and lights underneath, hands overlapping each other similar to those FBI agents in shows. Their flashlight beams pierce through the darkness like razor blades on paper, revealing a hallway with white walls and a pattern of black dashes along the bottom. The ceiling lights embedded into the roof are dead and Aaron hears Denny radio in that they’ve made it inside too as he shuts the door. Herm says he’s made it to the roof.
At the end of the hallway, their path splits off into opposite directions and Aaron recalls the blueprints shown on screen earlier. They take the right one and then a left. Usually their footsteps are near silent, but now it’s the only thing they can hear. The quiet atmosphere makes that tightening in his gut flare and he subconsciously checks to see if Denny is still next to him watching their backs.
He is.
The reassurance of his friend’s presence dims the flare, but only briefly.
Aaron leads them down another right and they’re met with four rooms in each corner, the hallway connecting with three others to form a crossroad. Each room looks similar to those at the agency with tall windows for walls and the dreaded white paint. The only difference is the interiors. At the agency you’d find a desk with a couple of stacks of paper, a few chairs, and maybe a bookshelf here and there. Here, however, each room looks the same as the one Zane showed them. There’s at least one lab table in each, some with microscopes still on display, and cabinets lining the top of the wall. Countertops are filled with supplies and filing cabinets are scattered throughout the room.
“I’ll take the left ones, you take the right ones?” Aaron offers.
Denny nods and they split to their respective sides. As soon as Aaron closes the door behind him it’s like everything outside of this room doesn’t exist. He didn’t realize it could get quieter than it was out there, but somehow it is. He does a quick sweep of the room with his flashlight before heading over to a filing cabinet in the back corner. Aaron crouches down and opens the top drawer. He’s met with nothing but a bit of dust and a dot of paper left over from a hole puncher. The one below it holds the same contents except now there are two dots of paper.
What an upgrade.
He moves on to the cabinets, opening and closing them without trying to make any noise—though he doubts any could escape this room. There are vials inside one of the last cabinets he checks. His gloves cling firmly around his fingers as he gently lifts the vial closer for inspection with his flashlight. Clear liquid with a light pink undertone sloshes around and he sighs. Another sweep of his light across the other vials reveals they’re the same color.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron spots Denny’s silhouette moving in the hallway. It’s fleeting but the height of the elf is unmistakable. He takes it as his cue to move on to the next room.
He had just entered it when Herm’s voice crackled over their comms. Aaron winced at the sudden noise, reaching up to turn the volume down slightly. “Perimeter is clear. I’m heading inside. To the left you said?”
Aaron lets out a small chuckle and almost shoots out a quip about how Herm’s dementia is kicking in again but thinks better of it as Kevin reaffirms the plan. Aaron returns his attention to the area in front of him.
Unlike the last room, this one has a microscope set out on the lab table like a mousetrap. He eyes it as if it might jump out and attack him given the chance and instead traverses the lands of the concrete floor to get to the first of two filing cabinets in this room. When that one is empty, he moves on to the next.
He’s expecting to be disappointed again, but there inside the top drawer is a group of files in a holder. His heart rate spikes as he shuffles through, searching the messy scribbles on the top left flaps for the code name Zane had given them back during the meeting.
He doesn’t find it. But, he did find a keyword that sparked a familiarity in his mind. He furrowed his brows and reached for it, flipping open the folder like it had personally wronged him. As Aaron scanned the words, little snippets stuck out to him and he could have sworn he’d read the exact words before. Every time he tries to remember where, though, it leaves him.
With more frustration than he’d like to admit, he sets the files on the lab table. Aaron scans the room again, more of a distraction than anything, but his eyes end up traveling back to the microscope more than once. They follow the cord down to the floor and he walks over to it. When he gets closer, he can see the transparency of a slide sitting patiently underneath the scope as if it were waiting for him. Aaron frowns before taking the cord and plugging it back into the outlet underneath the table.
Before he has a chance to switch on the light and look, the door to his room opens and he jumps, whipping his head toward the sound so fast he could’ve sworn he almost pulled something in his neck. The flashlight and gun in his hand follow his movement and find a rapidly blinking Denny.
Aaron immediately lowers the gun again, “Jesus, Denzel.”
Denny grins, “What—did I scare you?” He looks around and his eyes land on the folder Aaron had fished out of the drawer. “Are those the files?”
“No,” Aaron says. “I just thought I recognized it from somewhere. I think Noah might have shown it to me before back at the agency. Or Trevor.”
“Who’s Noah? Your new boyfriend?” Denny asks.
There’s a joke Aaron can bounce back at his friend, but his mind is elsewhere. If this place was left to rot, people—especially scientists—wouldn’t leave a slide inside of a microscope, or vials for that matter. To them, that’s like forgetting your phone at your house when you’re about to go on a long road trip. Nobody would do that without turning back around to go grab it. And yet, these guys definitely did not seem to have turned back around.
“A Boogie?”
“Someone else is here,” the second the words leave his mouth he knows he believes them. Zane talked about the possibility at the meeting, but Aaron had pushed it to the back of his mind and marked it as nothing but a theory. The truck outside hardly looked like it could move let alone drive, so when he saw it, it only further proved his thought process.
Denny looks like he says something but whatever it is gets lost amidst the loud hum that erupts from the ceiling. Neither gets time to register what it is before they’re overwhelmed by a blinding brightness. Even as he closes his eyes, the light seeps in until it’s sinking into his skull.
He wonders briefly if they’ve finally ascended to Heaven because it takes a good minute or so of fervent blinking until his eyes can finally distinguish his surroundings again. His heart drops a little as he sees the previously dead fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling have been revived. Aaron watches as the ones down the hallway they entered from switch on like dominoes, one after the other.
Kevin’s voice comes over the comms, “Was that one of y’all?”
“No,” Herm says.
Denny’s jaw tightens as he shares a look with Aaron before answering, “Not us.”
There’s a pause and the air around them is thick with anticipation. Aaron is analyzing their surroundings a lot more intently now, spinning the blueprints of the facility around in his head. He’s definitely missing a few rooms unfortunately.
“Okay,” Kevin eventually decides on. “Watch your corners. Zane and I will head to the control room to see what’s up.”
Zane’s voice is muffled as it comes through Kevin’s side of the comms, “Ask them if they’ve found anything yet.”
“Does Zane not have comms?” Denny asks.
“He forgot them,” Kevin says.
“Zane, man,” Denny shakes his head light-heartedly.
“How does our technology guy forget the most important piece of technology?” Herm questions, a hint of a smile poking through his words.
Aaron gives a short laugh, “‘Cause he’s sixty years old.”
Whatever Kevin says next is overlapped by Zane’s comment about adding a speaker mode. The line falls silent again after that and part of Aaron wishes it would continue to give him a distraction for another minute.
He doesn’t know why it all still scares him after a year and a half. He guesses it’s probably normal to fear for your life in a situation where your life is at risk—which is almost every mission. But he’s been in training for months, not to mention his active participation in a gunfight last mission that he feels should deserve more than a participation trophy. Admittedly, he has a few things he needs to work on. One of those being close combat. His old wrestling skills come in handy during those lessons, but still.
And he wouldn’t necessarily say he’s scared—no, that’s not it. More anxious than anything.
He envies Herm’s ability to always stay calm in any situation even when given the most impossible odds. Denny used to tell stories of Herm’s negotiation skills like a veteran would tell war stories. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen or heard Herm be in any stage of panic or fear. Herm isn’t scared to do what needs to be done, and Aaron doesn’t even think he could kill somebody if it came down to it.
And Denny? Well, Denny’s always been sneaky. He remembers one time in college they were playing a game of cards with some friends. Denny always gets people because his personality is so loud, but then Aaron looked down during the game and realized half his cards had vanished. So, years later when Denny told Aaron that he had tried joining a Spy business, he wasn’t surprised to hear his friend had made it in.
Then after Denny got on a team, Aaron learned about this Kevin guy who seemed prone to overanalyzing everything. While overthinking every possibility has a lot of downsides, it’s an important skill on missions because one of the first things new agents are taught is to expect the unexpected.
It’s a skill Aaron finds himself lacking in, surprisingly. He thought he’d be good at it because his mind is constantly on the move, but he’ll run a training course and always be caught off guard. He’s getting better at it, sure, but “getting better” doesn’t equate to “good” and he’s scared that if it doesn’t equal that soon than he might have to learn the hard way and he won’t be ready for it.
“Which way?” Denny asks, pulling Aaron from his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Which direction do we want to go?”
“Oh,” Aaron replies. He considers for a moment as they walk back into the hallway, stances more firm than they were when they found the crossroad. “Let’s go straight.”
“First time you’ve chosen that,” Denny quips and Aaron rolls his eyes. He really should have seen that one coming.
There are a few heavy metal doors they pass down this hallway, both with small windows engraved into them alongside numbers and a mysterious loud humming in the walls that Aaron labels to be a ventilation system. They can’t get the doors open, but the only thing they see inside anyway is a bunch of plants sealed inside glass boxes with wires and cords trailing across the ground like worms. The entirety of both rooms is engulfed in a cloud of hazy mist that they can’t see past (or hear past. Seriously, you’d think they’d turn down the mist so that it wasn’t audible over the humming and through the doorway), so it’s not like they have a choice anyway.
Another area they come across looks like it could belong on a spaceship with how advanced it seems. He doesn’t know the name of over half the things in that room. Then there are some other places similar in design to the ones at the crossroad that they clear before eventually coming to a dead end inside one last room.
There are stairs leading to a mezzanine that hangs above a group of lockers lining the wall in a back corner. Smaller lab stations with thinner walls dividing them sit off to the left. Some of the stations have filing cabinets, others don’t. He also notices another metal door at the top of the stairs with a desk accompanying it. The loud wall-humming makes its great return.
Denny starts heading over to the lab stations, so Aaron takes the lockers. He tries the first one, even rattles it a little more than necessary, but to no avail. He brings a hand up to his comms, “Hey, Kev. Does Zane have any lock melters?”
There’s a brief pause before Kevin responds, “Yeah, but not a lot. How many do you need?”
“A lot,” Aaron deadpans.
“Just use a lockpick,” Kevin says.
“I only had one.”
“Come on guys,” Herm chastises playfully. “First Zane’s comms.” He leaves the rest of the sentence in the air because they all know what comes next.
Aaron mentally drags a hand down his face, “I know—how do you fit everything in your pockets, man?”
Denny huffs across the room as he says, “It’s ‘cause he’s so used to stealing.”
Aaron laughs without realizing he’s still on comms. Herm asks what it is that Denny said and the only thing Aaron supplies is a quick, “Don’t worry about it.”
He decides to forget the forbidden lockers altogether and instead heads up the stairs to check out the desk and whatever lies beyond the ominous metal door—though, he already has a guess judging by the metal doors they’ve encountered earlier. Aaron sees a peek of plant life through the glass and thinks he could challenge Kevin on that “World’s Best Guesser” title that the other gave himself. A man turns out to be right with a list of suspects one time and suddenly he’s the best guesser to ever exist.
Aaron turns to the desk and searches the drawers while noting the fact that there used to be a holographic screen in the center of it. When he finds the drawers empty, he begins running his fingers along the desk’s surface for any hidden compartments. Satisfied—and disappointed—by the lack of any in his search, he studies the legacy of tangled cables the screen left behind.
Charred around the edges.
A loud crackle echoes through the room and Aaron thinks for a second that it’s just one of the boys on comms again, but then an unfamiliar voice follows the noise, “Denzel Love.”
He visibly jumps, head almost bumping into the wood above him as it darts to the ceiling in hunt for the location of the sound. He gets to his feet and rushes over in long strides to the railing because whoever this is knows who Denny is apparently. The comms explode into an overwhelming cacophony of voices.
His eyes meet Denny’s and the other man shrugs with a shake of his head. Denny looks so confused that it’s almost laughable.
“Interesting stage name you’ve chosen,” the voice says, and Aaron’s gut coils. “I would’ve gone with something a little more accurate, no? ‘Love’ is a bit of a conventional deception of your character I’d say.”
Okay, well, whatever sort of redemption Aaron had cooking up for this guy in his head has instantly been shut down.
Denny’s whole body goes rigid and his hand tightens around the handle of the gun at his side, “Who the fuck is this?”
“Denny,” Herm says more as a statement than a question.
“You don’t remember me?” The voice asks. A soft but deep laugh cuts in and out of the built-in speaker system that must be embedded above the ceiling tiles. “I’m hurt. Truly. I mean, I know it’s been a few years, but can’t have been that long right? I remember you. Hell, I don’t think I could ever forget.” That last bit is spit out like venom.
Denny turns back to the folder he had pulled out from one of the lab station cabinets. There’s a small spark of recognition every time whoever this guy is speaks, but it’s not enough to start a fire. Hopefully Kev and Zane will take this guy out when they get to the control room before the dude can get to be a pain in their asses.
As if the universe read his mind and was actively praying for his downfall, Kevin comes over their comms, “He’s not in the control room. We just got here, no sign of him.”
Which means he’s in some security room if the guy can both hear and see them. Except, Denny can’t remember seeing any security room in the blueprint.
He scans the papers beneath his fingertips and offers a response to their stalker, “You want anything other than friendly conversation?”
The voice replies almost instantly, “There are a lot of things I want Denzel.”
There’s nothing useful in this damn folder. He messily stacks the papers back up and slides them between the vanilla folds before moving on to another drawer without bothering to put them back where they came from. He hopes his demeanor comes off as calm as he’s trying to portray because his mind is currently running a few marathons a minute. He can tell by the tone in this guy’s voice that this is some revenge play. “You want to explain them to me?”
“I see you’ve found yourself a nice crew here.”
He can feel Aaron’s eyes boring into his back, so he turns and looks. Aaron motions to the metal door behind him and mouths, “It’s open.”
Denny holds up a finger to tell his friend to wait a second and he’ll be up there. He has one last set of drawers to check. While he does so, he decides to make his move in the round of Avoiding Questions they seem to be playing. He doesn’t have much information on this guy which means he’s clever, but Denny can already decipher that from the words “conventional deception of your character”. Sounds like something straight from a philosophy textbook.
Other than that, though, he’s got close to nothing. So, he takes a shot in the dark. Like Herm’s taught him to. “Can’t say the same for you, can I?”
“You’re getting there,” the voice says, smooth in a way that’s almost taunting. “I have a lot of fascinations, Denzel.”
“Who are you?” Denny repeats before he can stop himself. He can practically hear Herm’s scolding from a few years ago about trying not to let anger show. He’s thankful it doesn’t actually come through comms.
Denny doesn’t receive a reply from the guy and he internally curses himself, slamming the final drawer closed with too much force.
He rushes up the stairs to meet a patiently waiting Aaron who’s eyeing him with concern. He brushes his friend off.
The metal door is open, not wide, probably too heavy for Aaron’s scrawny rodent arms, but wide enough for mist to begin seeping out and disappearing into the open air of their room.
Denny’s about to follow Aaron toward the door when the disheveled wires under the desk off to the side catch his eye. He ducks below and takes the exposed copper gently into his hand.
Charred.
That’s when it clicks.
When he sees the edges of the blue insulation stained black it makes that spark in his head ignite into a burning blaze that has his heart rate skyrocketing and his eyes widening. The name leaves in a low whisper, “Isaac.”
This is Isaac.
The guy who was one of Denny’s first-ever missions over a decade ago before Denny was even a part of Kevin’s squad. The guy who is so overly obsessed with fire and immensely calculated that he and his own group of arsonists spotted Denny’s old squad as soon as they entered the building. The guy who toyed with them that whole mission until finally setting the entire building aflame after Denny’s old squad had killed a few from the guy’s group; Denny and one other member of his squad were the only ones who managed to make it out alive, but by then it was too late. The guy who Denny is almost positive might be a genuine diagnosed psychopath and had taken a strange interest in Denny specifically with an ominous final goodbye being “Until next time”.
The guy whom Denny remembers ended up terrifying him deep down to his core.
He doesn’t even know half of what Isaac is capable of, but he knows that this guy has probably been watching them from the moment they stepped foot inside, as he did all those years ago. The weight of the realization sinks to the bottom of his stomach like a stone in a river. His heart pounds ten times louder in his ears until it mixes with the humming in the walls and the sound of metal screeching.
Wait.
Metal—
“Aaron!” Denny shouts, spinning around so fast that he swears he gives himself whiplash. His heart drops when he sees that the once-opened metal door now lies closed as if it hadn’t been opened to begin with.
And Aaron is nowhere to be seen.
“Aaron!” Denny hears himself call again, but it seems far away. He’s in front of the door before he can even register it and tugging on its handle. He sees Aaron’s figure through the window and he calls his name again but it doesn’t seem to reach the other.
Oh God—Aaron can’t hear him, can he?
The whirring that had been shaking the walls around him suddenly comes to a halt and his throat tightens until it feels like he won’t be able to breathe.
“I don’t think you’ve met my other fascination, Denzel,” Isaac says calmly.
“Denny, what’s happening?” Kevin asks over comms. He had forgotten about those.
He reaches up to respond. “Aaron—“ He chokes on his next words as he watches Aaron suddenly stutter forward with a silent gasp. He turns around and his eyes widen as he realizes Denny hadn’t followed him—dammit why hadn’t Denny gone with him? Why had he gone in alone?
“Fun fact, the human body can function a total of six minutes without oxygen,” Isaac says. “Well, three minutes minimum depending on the body. Brain cells start dying after around one minute, though, so maybe ‘function’ isn’t the right word.”
Denny tries to swallow the lump in his throat and stop himself from panicking as Aaron tries to take a step forward only to topple over into a coughing fit, grasping desperately at the nearest glass box. Denny tries the handle again, more desperately. He can feel his own heart stumbling over itself with how fast it’s beating. Not fast enough.
“Such a fascinating thing indeed,” Isaac continues. “How there’s so much of it, but we can never get enough.”
Denny starts pounding on the handle as if it could break under the simple pressure of a balled fist and a dream. He doesn’t stop until he feels blood start dripping down his knuckles. “Fuck! Isaac—please! He has nothing to do with this shit!”
“Denny, talk to me,” Herm says, but it’s not the calm, collected voice they’re all used to. This one’s a mask Denny can see through and it only makes the panic worsen until it’s clawing at his insides like a parasite, drowning his thoughts in a tidal wave.
Through blurred vision, Denny watches Aaron’s knees give out, hands clutching at his throat, and blood spatter as he coughs and coughs and coughs—
He forces his vision to refocus and the numbers under the window come into view, faded from time. He grasps frantically at any idea that seems somewhat rational and reaches up to his earpiece. “Kev—Kevin. Open door 433!”
“433?” Kevin repeats. There’s shuffling on the other end of the line and Kevin begins muttering incoherently. “Zane, which fucking buttons are the doors!?”
“I don’t know, just start pressing shit!” Zane’s muffled shout breaks through.
Aaron’s hands begin to slip from the glass box he was clinging to.
“Tick Tock,” Isaac says.
Denny’s going to kill him. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. The hatred that burns through his veins is white-hot and all-consuming and the worst part is that he knows some of it is for Aaron—for himself for getting distracted and not paying attention. That’s one of the things he’s best at in this field and he fucked it up and now Aaron’s dying.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Kevin mumbles.
“Got it!” Zane exclaims.
Whatever else is said falls on deaf ears as Denny immediately reaches for the handle, pulling at it so hard he thinks he might dislocate his shoulder. It’s heavy, but it opens—it opens and he doesn’t even wait for it to open all the way. He vaguely registers that Isaac says something and the walls begin to vibrate again with whirrs, but Aaron’s heaving in hungry gasps for air on the floor in front of him and he physically cannot regard anything else.
He does a whole-ass baseball slide across the floor and places a hand on his home base’s shoulder. “Breathe, A Boogie. With me.”
He grabs Aaron’s shaking hand and places it against his own chest, sucking in deep, raw air and letting it out a few seconds later. Blood coats his friend’s mouth, skin pale with a blue-ish tint and the realization of what just happened weighs heavily on Denny’s shoulders.
He almost got Aaron killed.
Actually, Aaron almost got Aaron killed and he’s one hundred percent going to berate his best friend for scaring the shit out of him. But, he decides to save it for later because Aaron’s still struggling to find oxygen.
Denny clings onto the rest of Aaron’s arm as if the younger would disappear the second he lets go and they both sit there like that for a minute, him repeating to Aaron the same word over and over again until it’s engraved in their minds. The sinking and rising of both of their chests falling into a synchronized rhythm.
The boys’ voices overlap on the comms and Denny has half the mind to mute them all together, but he knows better than that.
“A little under a minute,” Isaac says. “You’ve improved.”
“Go to hell,” Denny says. The words crack at the edges but he’s both surprised and not surprised that it holds more venom than he feels like he has the energy to emit.
Isaac laughs and there’s a pause as a high-pitched screech follows. Then there’s music playing. If he can even call it music. Really it’s too distorted to appreciate, but Denny thinks he recognizes a classical instrumental.
Aaron opens his eyes slightly and winces, “I feel like shit.”
It’s hard to hear over the music, but Denny wouldn’t miss it with how close he is. He nearly laughs out of incredulity because he never thought he’d hear that voice again. “Forehead finally too big?”
“Fuck you, I almost just died.”
This time Denny does laugh. It quickly leaves him, though, as he turns his gaze down to the blood on the ground. “You shouldn’t be coughing up blood, that’s not normal.”
He doesn’t know how he knows that, just that he does. He can’t remember ever learning about anything related to anoxia during training or in school because it’s not exactly an everyday occurrence even in their field of work.
“I think I was just coughing too much,” Aaron replies. “That’s a thing right?”
“Aaron?” Herm asks.
Aaron reaches an unsteady hand up to respond, “I’m here, I’m good.”
The music overhead intensifies into a grating against Denny’s skull and the anger from a few moments ago returns at full force. The berating is allowed to come a bit early. “Why would you go in alone, Aaron?”
“I thought you were behind me,” Aaron says.
“You’re supposed to double-check.”
“I did,” He insists. “You were literally on your way.”
They fall into silence. He’s not satisfied but he’ll take what he can get for now because Aaron’s still seems disoriented.
Aaron makes a small humming sound like he’s contemplating something. “Denny, do you think God could be a lamp?”
“What?” Denny asks, eyebrows raising. He reaches up to his comm to give Herm his own response to the previous question, “He might need medical when we get back.”
Then Zane’s voice comes through clear as day. Kevin must have given him his comm and Denny stores that information for later because why are they sharing earwax? “Whatever just happened on that end can be talked about later. I’m looking at the blueprints we went over right now. There is no room on here this guy could be in.”
“Security room?” Denny says.
“No,” Zane says. “There’s no security room. It’s just the control room we’re in. We have no idea where he is.”
Herm interrupts, “Guys, we got a problem.”
Kevin’s words are the muffled ones this time as he snorts, “We’ve got a lot of problems. Take your pick: Denny’s secret admirer, the vials, the files. I don’t even know what the files are meant to look like.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Herm interrupts. “There are no files. I’m looking at nothing but a note right now signed by a ‘T3F-4’.”
Shit.
Realization claws its way around Denny’s heart with an icy grip, “This was a setup.”
Of course it was. Everything that has happened tonight slides together like the pieces of a puzzle. The lack of a security room on their map, the way the microscopes and shit are laid out like the people who worked here will be back in a few hours, even the damn files Aaron had said he recognized earlier.
Of course.
The song ends like some twisted finale. Denny gets to his feet, offering Aaron a hand. The other takes it gratefully and Denny doesn’t remove his support until Aaron is able to fully stabilize himself.
Aaron turns around and spits out the rest of the blood coating his tongue and Denny waits patiently because there is no way in hell they are both not walking out through that door side by side.
He’s going to have a personal vendetta with metal doors from now on. He’ll turn into a white woman and file a formal complaint to get all of them removed from the agency if he has to. Or maybe just any doors that can be controlled from another source. He feels like a spy agency shouldn’t have any of those in the first place but if theirs did, you wouldn’t find any surprise on Denny’s face.
The architecture department seriously needs to make some changes.
“I love that song,” Isaac says. “It sounded a little choppy, but that’s okay. I forgive it. What I don’t forgive, is you Denzel. Why wouldn’t you tell your friends about me? I’m hurt. Again. Y’know, I think you’ve hurt me more times directly than I’ve hurt you. What’s that you always say—isn’t that something?”
There is an indescribable amount of rage bubbling underneath his skin right now, threatening to boil his insides whole. He knows the boys can detect it because Zane steps in before Denny can say anything he’ll regret.
“I managed to get some of the computers online and bring up blueprints directly from their system,” Zane explains. “Pulling up a scan and a side-by-side with ours now.”
Denny and Aaron exit the room and Denny shuts the infamous metal door behind them before they both hurry down the stairs and back into the hallway.
“Yeah, we’re missing a few rooms,” Zane says, further confirming Denny’s previous theory of this whole thing being a setup. “I’ve got eyes on him front left—Herm you’re closest.”
“Don’t do anything stupid!” Kevin calls out before their side of the line falls silent.
Denny is immediately on the move back the way they came. He and Aaron have switched from what they were doing when they first came in. Now Aaron is the one watching their backs and Denny is spinning around corners first with his gun raised.
“Well,” Isaac says, disappointment seeping out of his syllables. “That’s my cue. It’s been fun, Denzel. We’re far from done here, though. Tell Katherine I said hello.”
It’s a scare tactic, he knows it is. Isaac is letting go of information on purpose to scare them. To let them know he knows the whole team. And it sure as hell works because it’s only when Aaron calls out to him that he realizes he was going too fast.
He’s about to snap back at Aaron that they need to hurry, but when he turns around, Aaron is leaning against the wall for support.
Every bit of argument instantly leaves him.
“Whoa, hey,” Denny says.
Aaron raises a hand to wave him off as he approaches, “Sorry. I’m fine, let’s go.”
He watches as Aaron fixes himself and starts heading further down the hallway—a little wobbly—to where Denny was moments ago. He hates how the wave of anger washes over him again like the shores of a furious beach. It’s quick, it always is and it always comes back in the least helpful of situations. He does his best to swallow it down, though, because he doesn’t know which boat the waves are coming from, which part of the shore they’re heading toward, and the lifeguard station is on fire.
In other words, they have bigger problems right now.
Denny and Aaron pass by the four useless rooms from earlier soon enough, and everything after that is new territory that feels like a giant labyrinth. Every hallway looks the same as the next and the previous. It gets even worse when the lights go back off and they’re engulfed in a swelling darkness for all of however many seconds it takes for their eyes to adjust. Denny reaches out to find Aaron instinctively and lands a hand on his best friend’s arm. When they can see again, it’s to the unfortunate realization that their only light source right now is Denny’s flashlight because Aaron dropped his at some point.
The only sign that they’ve progressed at all is the numbers on metal doors they pass and Denny regrets to admit that they’re good for something, but it is what it is.
It’s so quiet without the hum of the ceiling lights that Denny can hear the rain still pounding on the roof outside, hard and soft in a way that shows a humbling sense of inconsistency. Yes, he has a personal vendetta against rain as well.
He actually has personal vendettas against a lot of things, but that’s a list for another day ten years from now.
The pitter-pattering gets louder the more they close in on the corner and Denny and Aaron stop at the same time, comprehension dawning on both of them at once. That’s not rain. Those are footsteps.
Denny’s hands tighten around his gun. He feels Aaron shift beside him as the sound grows closer.
Heart hammering wildly in his chest, they both whip around the corner in sync at the last second.
There’s a whole lot of yelling that fills the air and Denny swears he’s hit with a flash bang, but he doesn’t pull the trigger because he could recognize the woman screech that rises in volume above the rest anywhere.
“Dammit, Kevin!” He exclaims.
Standing in front of them is a Kevin whose face Denny wishes he could take a picture of, frame it, and hang it up in the meeting room, a Zane who is shining a bright ass flashlight directly in Denny’s eyes, and a Herm who looks like he’d appreciate it a lot if he could take the first bus home right about now.
“Why is your flashlight brighter than ours?” Is somehow the first question that leaves his mouth.
“Shit,” Aaron says at the same time. Denny can’t think of a better word to explain their situation.
Kevin groans, “So we’ve all lost eyes on this guy.”
“Who is this guy, Denny?” Zane asks now. A genuine question and not the accusation Denny’s been expecting from them all.
“His name is Isaac,” is all Denny supplies because the story is too long to get into now. “He wasn’t in the security room?”
He directs the question to Herm, but Herm’s looking over at Aaron with a clenched jaw. “What happened over there?”
Kevin turns away, anxiously fiddling around with his fingers as Aaron begins explaining. It’s a story that Aaron keeps brief and one Denny’s experienced before and would rather not hear again so instead of paying attention, he lets the tidal waves of fury drag him away and he slams his hand into the wall with a swear. A loud bang reverberates down the hallway they’re in and he hisses as pain shoots through his arm like lightning, tingly and antsy. He forgot he hurt that hand earlier.
Herm’s beside him before Denny can register that the other even moved, grabbing his hand gently to stop him from doing it again.
“This is fucked,” Denny argues. “This guy is fucked—Herm.” The last word comes out with a desperation he wasn’t aware he was feeling and Herm must have noticed it because his expression eases up and he nods. He’ll never be able to fully comprehend how Herm is always able to convey so many emotions through such a small tilt of his head or shift of his features.
Kevin spins back toward them like a cartoon character with a light bulb above his head, “Wait—Zane, who did we get the blueprints from? The one that was missing all the rooms.”
Zane shrugs, confused, “I don’t know. Katherine said the mission came from someone higher than us.”
“They always do,” Denny points out.
“Right, right, yeah. Obviously—but if this was a set up like you said earlier…” Kevin trails off expectantly.
“Then there’s a mole at the agency,” Aaron finishes.
This conclusion doesn’t surprise Denny as much as he feels it should. The only thing it does is twist the ever-growing knot of dread that is determined to make his gut its new home.
“We gotta get back,” Kevin says urgently.
Denny shakes his head slightly, “Isaac won’t be back tonight, it’s not like him.”
But he’ll be back sooner than a decade.
He leaves that last part for later because things already feel hectic enough and all any of them are doing is standing in an awkward circle right now. There’s a headache building beneath his eyelids and he’s suddenly thankful the lights are off.
“Aaron still needs medical. And—“ Kevin says, effectively cutting off whatever protest Aaron had mustered up, “—there’s a lot we still need to go over.”
“No,” Denny, ever the dramatic, complains, dragging out the vowel. “You’re making us do this tonight?”
“Long night ahead of us,” the vampire calls, already making his way down the hallway.
The others follow suit, Herm placing a hand around Aaron’s shoulders, Zane hurrying to catch up with Kevin to hand the vampire’s comms back.
But Denny hesitates. He stares at the retreating silhouettes of his friends in the darkness and thanks the Lord that they’re all still alive and prays that they will all stay that way through whatever they’ll face in the future. Then he makes a promise to himself that he will keep them alive. And that if he and Isaac were ever in the same room together, Isaac wouldn’t be walking out of it alive.
Not after what he did a decade ago, and especially not after what he did tonight.
He sighs, heading off after his friends and casting one more look behind him at the rooms they had shared the hallway with. He can’t make out much through the darkness and the reflection of his flashlight against the windows, but he catches a glimpse of light in the corner of a room just as he goes to turn away and scoffs.
There, on the edge of a countertop, stands a single, flickering lamp.