03: Sprinklers

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Smithsonian Institution

Washington DC

May 14

1300 hours

Alarms started blaring throughout the museum, and the screams continued.

I shoved Erica's phone into my pocket. It was still ringing, as I didn't want to miss the moment when Cyrus finally picked up. Unfortunately, Cyrus probably wasn't going to answer it; he said everything was hackable, and was paranoid about having old enemies tracking him down via technology and GPS.

I sprinted out of the bathroom and into the hallway, but then I slowed down. I had just heard a gunshot. Typically, you were supposed to run away from gunshots, not towards them. But people were in danger, and Erica was near where the gunshot came from. Sure, she could hold her own, but she was in proximity to unfriendly fire.

But what can you do? My head whispered. Do you have any skills to bring to the table that can take down an armed mound of muscle?

I shoved those thoughts down. It didn't matter. I had lessons in how to deal with terrorists, but the tourists who were shouting in panic didn't. I ran towards the sound of the commotion.

I entered the room with the huge whale replica that hung from the ceiling (it seemed the museum had replaced it since I had destroyed it).

A figure clad in black from head to toe stood on the whale, who naturally wielded a gun. I quickly tracked where the barrel was pointing: a shattered exhibit of some sort of pottery. It seemed that they had fired a warning shot. The tourists were panicking and were crowding the exits; a few were taking videos. Meanwhile, guards and security were trying to make their way through all the panicking tourists towards the figure.

It wouldn't be best if I was singled out by the figure and the security, because they would wonder why I wasn't trying to get away like a rational person, and there goes my cover. So, I went back into the narrow hallway, but I peeked my head out so I could see what was going on.

I turned my head upwards towards the figure, but it was hard to see much because of the light. From what I could make out, the figure had about the same height and build as Erica. They had a black spandex suit that covered everything, including their face, only letting their eyes show, though I couldn't make them out that far away. They had a medium-sized black nondescript backpack, just like the ones Erica favored.

I quickly cased the room. Erica was nowhere to be found.

The figure cocked their gun, causing everyone's screams to rise again. This time, they hit another glass case with an artifact inside. It shattered, launching glass shards upwards towards the ceiling.

The guards and security agents finally made their way through the panicking mob. They surrounded the whale in a semicircle and aimed their guns at the figure.

"Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air," one of them said. "Or we'll shoot."

The figure slowly raised their hands in the air, and let go of the pistol. It seemed that the pistol was falling forever through the air, always getting closer to the floor. I squinted for a moment, and thought I could see something attached to the pistol- a string?- but it was too far away to make out.

Then, as the pistol was halfway toward the floor, something else fell off the whale where the figure was standing. It was a small cylinder that looked like a mini-oxygen tank, and it had a string attached around it that connected to the pistol.

The pistol hit the ground with a clatter, and the cylinder followed quickly and upon impact with the floor started releasing a yellow fog that spread quickly throughout the room. The security guards immediately realized that the figure had done something, and started shooting, but the figure quickly ducked towards the center of the whale where the bullets couldn't reach.

The gas still continued to spread, and the guards started coughing. It must have been a tear gas, or a gas that would knock them unconscious. I quickly pulled my shirt over my nose. It would only delay the effect, but at least I had time to do something.

The gas was slowly spreading in the hallway I was in.

I looked over to my right. There was a fire extinguisher and a fire alarm. If I pulled the alarm, it would at least alert the authorities, and the fire sprinklers would at the very least irk the figure and slow them down just a little bit.

I pulled the alarm, and the sprinklers went off, along with the alarm. It was surprisingly a lot quieter than I thought it would be, and I was thankful for that.

Erica would probably reprimand me for not doing more to stop the figure, but then again, she said trying to stop a bad guy in public would blow your cover and was heavily discouraged. Plus, she had disappeared to wherever, leaving me alone with a terrorist to deal with.

My shirt did a surprising job at stopping the gas from reaching my nose. My eyes watered slightly from it though, and I concluded that it was best to leave. I saw a bright neon emergency exit sign and followed it.

Now, what is about to happen is really embarrassing. I don't want to recount it. But I can't lie in my accounts, so here's what happened.

You know those fire sprinkles that I turned on with the fire alarm? Well, water falling makes puddles. And puddles make me slip.

I know, I know, but seriously, falling backwards with your arms pinwheeling and then hitting your head on the very hard ground and falling unconscious while there's this gas around you isn't fun.

And I doubt you would've done any better. Unless you are Erica. Or Cyrus. Or anyone who has been accepted into Spy School.

1005 words.

we have to make ben do foolish things every once in a while don't we?

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