Missing in Action

Chapter 009

Ryan nodded, but he could feel his heart thudding quickly in his chest. They had been talking about him, anyone with half a brain would've been able to discern that. And there was the chance they'd been comparing notes and suspicions, that Spencer had briefed Jon on his thoughts or something and they were a moment away from starting to question him or figuring everything out or something. Perhaps he was exaggerating, but he really did not want to be captured and rot in a prison or die or whatever else and he couldn't help but be scared out of his mind, and it took all he had in him not to show the fear on his face. He knew he was pale, though, and he felt oddly faint and was about five seconds away from declaring himself ill and retreating to his room where another camera would be awaiting his return and... since when was he actually paranoid? "Okay," he muttered, walking the few paces to the bench Spencer had previously occupied and sitting down heavily, letting out a slight, barely audible, sigh.

Before Spencer even had the time to look worried, Brendon was walking towards them, the smile on his face faltering when he noticed Ryan's pallor. "What did they say?!" he demanded from Ryan, glaring at Spencer and Jon, but letting his gaze rest on Jon for considerably longer. He seemed quite angry over, Spencer thought, nothing. Ryan was probably just feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the security. Spencer had felt the same way at one time. He tried to say as much, but was quieted with another glare from Brendon.

"Nothing," Ryan answered, giving a small smile. "I'm just not feeling that well. Bit of a stomach ache. I tend to get that way after longer drives, I just sort of hoped that since I hadn't felt it yet, it might not kick in." He shrugged slightly, keeping his shoulders up a little. Again he knew it was a bit of a childish defence stance, but it made him feel slightly better all the same and he allowed himself to stay that way for a few seconds before pulling his shoulders back down. "Just give it a couple of hours and I'll be all good again," he added, forcing another smile and hoping it didn't come out too much like a grimace.

Brendon looked at Ryan worriedly, then relented. "All right," he said, still frowning slightly. "How about we just take time to unpack and have alone time in our rooms, then? It's no later than five. We can do whatever you guys want after that," he said, nodding. Spencer grinned at him, chuckling slightly.

"Sounds good."

***

Ryan was on his bed, simply looking up at the ceiling, or so it would seem to the casual observer. In fact his eyes were still slowly darting around, looking for blind angles. There were next to none, and he was already quite clear on the fact that he, however risky it was, didn't really have much of a choice but to leave his small handgun in the bag instead of hiding it somewhere less obvious, and that he couldn't do much but surf and do homework on his laptop. He was definitely regretting having deleted his own email, because it would seem odd if he got online a lot and never checked his email, but the one he was using, well, there might definitely be some incriminating subject titles. Plus, the thing with the codes and the encryption might be a hint too. Any reports he made would have to be made in as few words as possible and sent with the highest level of encryption his (quite advanced, but not nearly as much as the special devices) cell phone could manage. It was all more than a little risky, and he didn't like it much, but it didn't seem like there was much he could do about it.

Deciding he should probably let HQ know the status quo as soon as possible, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and shuffled about on his bed in a way he determined looked natural until the back of the phone along with his body should keep the screen from view, he started typing away as quickly as the device could manage, explaining the situation and how he was handling it in as few words as possible before sending the message and deleting it from his outbox. Then he snapped the phone shut with a small sigh and put it back in his pocket, rolling over onto his side. He was still feeling a little queasy, and not at all up to meeting the others again. A nap, though, sounded good.