The Good-For-Nothing Society | Completed

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Those lifts there," She points. She's flustered. It's a little cute. " You need an appointment."

"I have one," I say, winking at her whilst sauntering towards the lifts. Her face goes crimson and she rushes off, giggling.

Through the comms I hear Will mutter, "Smooth bastard."

I don't laugh as I press the button for the lift. Grace draws up beside me, and presses the same button. We ignore each other. We're total strangers. She tuts and presses the button again. I do what I've been trained to do. I notice everything.

It takes a minute for the lift to get to us and two minutes later we're on the lower ground. I step out and turn left making my way to the safety deposit box. There's a singular glass door at the back of the room, I open it and head down the stairs.

There's a reception with two women sat at it. The entire room is filled with a mahogany 'u' shaped desk. The walls are a horrible faded yellow. Behind them is another glass door with an 18th century inscription on it. That's where the lockbox is. To my right is a security office.

"There are seven cameras on you," Stan says in my ear, but I already knew that.

Both the women look up at me, the one on the left, a small blonde woman, says, "Hello. Can we help you?"

"Hello," I smile warmly, walking towards the desk. "I've come to get access to my fathers safety deposit box."

She smiles back, "We can help you with that. What was his name?"

"John Warbur." I say, the name rolling off my tongue.

She furiously taps into her computer, "Yes." She says. "You must be Elijah? I believe your sister stopped by thirteen days ago. She said you would be coming for the rest of the things. She set you up an account."

I suck in a breath. I hear Grace gasp. Alvin says, "Wait, so this is an actual mission? Who is the she? Are we looking for Amelia?"

"No, dipshit." Will snaps. "We're looking for another missing female with a bond to Elijah."

"Enough," Stan says. Sounding very much like our teacher and not my brother. "Elijah is in the middle of a mission, so unless it's productive. Shut up."

She was here. She's alive. Or she was, as of thirteen days ago. I don't have time to think about what that means. I have to focus on the task ahead. I notice the receptionist is waiting for me to say something.

"That's right," I say, a fake cheery smile on my face.

"Lovely," She says. "I just need proof of ID? A passport, driving license, that sort of thing?"

I hand her my fake passport. She takes it. Gets up. Scans it. The machine buzzes green, letting her know it's authentic. Thank you, Bexley. Then she walks over to me and hands it back.

"Perfect," She says. "Come with me."

She turns on her heels and walks through the double glass doors, I walk around the desk and follow her in. She takes me to a cubicle with a curtain, tells me she will be back in a moment and disappears. The room is bare. Nothing in it except a table.

I wait for a while before Stan says, "I don't like this. She's taking too long."

I let another minute pass then I pull back the curtain and look up and down, but there is no one here. The hall is empty.

"Elijah, can you see anything?" Grace asks.

"No," I mutter.

I know the way out. I know the fire exit. If anything is to go wrong, I know at least three different ways I can escape. There's backup outside. There's no reason for the receptionist to be taking so long. Is she alerting the enemy? Will I be converged on soon?

Then I hear the clicking of heels, and see the receptionist walking towards me with a box in her hands. She marches up to me and directs me back into the room before placing it down on the table.

"I'll give you a moment," The woman says, then draws the curtain back. Leaving me alone with the only thing that can bring me closer to Amelia.

"Do you have it?" Stan demands.

"Yes," I say.

Despite my family lineage and training, I can't quite calm my heart as I stare down at the box. There are lots of thoughts running through my mind. What if it's explosive? What if it kills me? Shouldn't we run some sort of check on it? I don't have time. I've waited long enough.

I take a steadying breath, insert the key and flip the lid back. I don't know what I was expecting? Some sort of code, key or map? But Amelia has done one better. She's exceeded all expectations. Sat in the box is a tiny black square, it's screen alive and blinking.

"Well?" Stan hisses, "Is there anything there?"

"Yeah," I croak out. My throat is dry. "She left a tracking device. We know where she is. In real time."