Song: So Far by Olafur Arnalds
***
"Stay here. And don't try anything funny, kid. We've got eyes ready to take you out everywhere," the guard threatens, shoving me into a chair. The room smells of pine and lavender, or in other words, strong artificial air freshener.
I'm in what appears to be an extremely large conference room, with a spectacular view of the city. The entire outside wall is just one big window, and I find myself considering smashing it and jumping out. But I also don't doubt that there actually probably are dozens of people waiting to shoot me at the first sign of movement, so I stay put.
I'm seated in a comfortable black chair at a long, black table. In fact, almost the entire room is black: the chairs, the table, the floor tiles - the only exceptions are the walls, which are a light gray color. It's all very professional and very intimidating.
The door behind me slides open, and I turn around in my chair. A guard shuffles in with Ally close beside him, directing her to a chair beside me. He whispers something to her, I assume the same thing I was told, and then leaves. The door slides shut behind him.
"So I assume we're meeting that person now?" Ally says, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
I nod. "I think so," I say.
Ally visibly gulps, knitting her eyebrows together. "Do you think we're gonna die?" she asks nervously, and I pick up a slight quiver in her voice.
I sigh. "I don't know, honestly. But I don't think they'd go through all this trouble just to kill us," I whisper. "We'll get out of this. Somehow," I add.
"And we'll get your family too," she says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You've kept me safe all this time, I at least owe you that," she smiles.
I give her a limp smile in return.
The door makes a noise behind us, and we both turn around. It slides open, and an elegantly dressed man stands in the doorway.
He's middle-aged, and wears a coal black suit. His hair is a dark brown, but turning gray at the roots, and is swept over to the side in a very business-like comb over.
He struts into the room with a strong air of confidence, hands clasped behind his back. Ally and I sit silently, too afraid to even breathe.
"The Dasher and the Hunter who won't hunt," he trills, his voice low and incredibly smooth. "You two are practically celebrities here at the CIA, you know that?" He turns to face us but we say nothing, still staring wide-eyed.
He places his hands up in front of him, raising his eyebrows. "No need to be scared!" he insists. "It's not like you two are the first of your kind that we've come across."
"Who. . . Who are you?" Ally gapes.
The man claps his hands together. "Oh, right. Allow me to introduce myself. Lucas Baldwin, Assistant Director of the CIA. But you can call me Lucas," he says smoothly.
"Wait - Baldwin? Are you and the director siblings or something?" I ask incredulously, leaning forward.
Lucas nods once. "Married, not siblings," he says. "Also both the primary creators of the Hunter Mission," he adds dryly, as if it's yesterday's news.
"Wait - what?" Ally snorts.
I furrow my brow. "I would have thought someone more. . . esteemed would have thought of it," I snicker. "Since the whole world got involved."
Lucas sits down in a chair across from Ally and I, folding his dry hands on the table. "The leaders of the world's most prominent countries organized the whole shabang, but it was Charlotte and I who first proposed the idea. We created the Hunter Mission. We made both of you what you are today."
"Horrible monsters to the public?" Ally scoffs, crossing her arms.
"No. Disappointments," he retorts. "You both have made a mockery of not only the Hunter Mission, but of the CIA as a whole. Thousands of other Hunters have been acting up, destroying government property. A group of them just blew up the CIA headquarters in Seattle a few days ago, claiming to have been inspired by your actions, and we had to cover it up. You almost exposed the entire project to the world. Do you realize the damage that could cause?"
"If you haven't noticed, we don't really care. And although I don't condone blowing stuff up, it's good to know other Hunters are retaliating," I snicker.
Lucas's face falls serious, and he glares at the two of us. "You two are in serious trouble, but you're very lucky. Everyone else who did as you two have done have already been terminated for their actions."
Ally shuffles nervously in her seat, and I swallow hard. "Then why didn't you have us killed when you had the chance?" she asks, narrowing her eyes. "You had, like, a dozen different opportunities."
Lucas clears his throat. "Because," he pauses, "you both are quite valuable to us. To me, in particular."
I chuckle lightly, shaking my head. "Look, buddy, this isn't some superhero movie. We're just teenagers, like all of the other kids you had killed. We're not any different. I'm a theater kid, she's a loner," I say, jabbing a thumb at her as she glares at me.
Lucas clucks his tongue, shaking his head slowly. "No, you two are far more valuable to me than you seem to realize."
Ally sits up straighter. "And how can that possibly be?"
Lucas places his face in his palm. "Okay before I say anything else, have you two ever. . ." he implies, making obscene gestures with his hands.
I widen my eyes in disgust, and Ally does the same. "Oh God no!" I exclaim.
"The most we did was hug!" Ally adds, scooting her chair slightly farther from mine. "But as friends, that's it!" she says, and I hastily nod in agreement.
"Good," Lucas sighs, "because I didn't want this to turn into some Luke and Leia crap."
"What do you mean?" I ask, squinting at the man.
"I mean, you two are siblings. Half siblings."
***
