Missing in Action

Chapter 009

Spencer was first, immediately going into the first room Brendon had shown them. It was all forest green with off-white trimmings, much to his pleasure. He smiled and stood in the doorway, watching Jon open the door to all three rooms and then look between them indecisively.

Ryan followed Jon's lead and gave each room a quick look. Unlike the younger male, though, he wasn't looking for colors or cool features or size, but blind angles. His academy training made it easy for him to scan a room and find out every way it was bugged and how to get around it. The second room, he discovered, did have a couple of feet of blind angles, but just as he was about to call it, Jon ran in and threw himself onto the bed. Ryan suppressed a groan and looked between the other two. Both were more than sufficiently wired. "Are there cameras in the bathrooms as well?" he suddenly found himself answering. "Because if there are, you'll have to put up with me smelling for a whole week. I don't want those security guards to..." He trailed off, grimacing and shuddering lightly as he kept glancing between the two rooms that were left.

Brendon scoffed, mildly offended. "Of course not! Why would we want cameras in washrooms?" he asked incredulously, nose wrinkled. He shook his head and shoved Ryan lightly. "Don't be stupid. No one wants to see you naked, you loser," he said, sounding completely serious, and then ruined it by winking. Behind him, Spencer chuckled.

"Apparently he thinks our country is much worse than it actually is..." Spencer mused.

"Oh, I see how it is," Ryan jested, feigning being offended. "I'm ugly now, am I?" He picked his suitcase up again and scanned both rooms once more, his training kicking in to make him choose the most easily defensible one, which seemed to be kept in soft blues and cremes. Not really his first choice in color, but, he mused, probably suiting for Ryan Hastings. He placed the suitcase by the end of the bed to be unpacked later and placed his computer bag on the table before pulling his shoulders up in relief at not having the excess weight on him anymore. Then he quickly pulled his jacket off and put it on the bed before rejoining the others.

"Yes, you're extremely ugly," Brendon replied, rolling his eyes. He rubbed his hands together and exhaled loudly. "All right, let's go down and eat, then we can go to the backyard for a nice stroll," he said, rather loudly. He hoped someone was listening and would report to his parents that they were up to no trouble. He rolled his shoulders back and started downstairs, but Jon placed a hand on his shoulder and held him back.

"Aren't you going to show us your room?" he asked, grinning. Brendon narrowed his eyes, looking from Jon to Spencer, who was grinning. He then looked at Ryan and sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled, and walked to the complete opposite end of the hallway. He extracted a small chain from under his shirt, the one he kept hidden at all times, and undid the clasp at the back of his neck. Taking the old-fashioned key at the end of it, he unlocked the door and then pushed it open. Walking in, they seemed to enter just a normal sitting room. Beyond the chairs and television, though, were French doors. Brendon walked in and to the doors, taking out another key from a pocket in his shirt, and unlocked those doors. He pushed them open to reveal a darkly lit room that seemed to belong in an Edgar Allan Poe story, rather than in a beautiful and colourful castle. He ushered them inside and stood by the door uneasily. He didn't like sharing his room with others, no matter who they were, but he figured that, if anyone, his best friends deserved to see it.

Ryan looked around, deep in concentration for a few moments as he mentally stored away location and details and other bits of information for later use. Or for a report. Who knew, maybe they could use it. He determinedly ignored the pang from his conscience, the something inside him screaming that he was already abusing too much trust and that something as private as a bedroom should be kept to those in whom it was confided. He took a deep breath, studiously telling himself that it wasn't his fault Brendon was too trusting and gave away information to the wrong people. He was doing his job. It wasn't his fault these stupid kid were falling for it. Somehow, though, those lies were beginning to feel shallow, even to himself. "It's nice," he stated honestly, finally managing to see the room as a person, not a machine or whatever else it was the bureau had made him into. "I like it," he added, once again honestly. This, rather than the pale blues, was something he definitely liked. The color scheme wasn't too different from his own room back in New York although the rather new apartment didn't have the same Gothic feel to it as you could get in an old building, a castle even. "And thanks, I don't think you're absolutely stunning either."