Chapter 11
I suddenly turned and started talking. "No, Maddie, you aren't real. They told me you aren't real, that I made you up. Go away. Leave me alone."
Nathan leaned across the table and put his hand on my arm. "It's ok, Brooke. You're ok."
I almost felt bad about lying to him, but again, it was all for the plan. It was always for the plan. His concern should've made me feel better. It should've helped me since I knew I wasn't alone. But it didn't. It just proved to me that no one understood what I needed to do in order to make this ok.
After all, feelings aren't important compared to a mission, especially when the mission has lives in the balance.
I broke my arm away from his grip, even though it hurt a little when the cast bumped off the table. "Leave me alone too."
Nathan pulled his hand back. "Did you take your medicines this morning?"
"I told you, I don't like taking pills. Too many bad memories." That was true, for a bit. I had gotten over that though. I had eventually realized that, in fact, my feelings were also less important than the mission, and the mission required my physical health to be as good as possible. Not flawless; it would never be flawless again, but as good as possible.
Nathan sighed. "You have to take the pills to get better."
"You don't have a right to tell me what to do! And you don't have a right to laugh either. This is your fault too."
Nathan stopped for a second. "I wasn't laughing."
"I was talking to Maddie."
"Maddie isn't real. Remember that." He sighed. "We need to wait here for when Chelsea comes back with the doctors." He stood up. "I can go get your medicine for you, as long as you stay here."
I nodded as I held my head in my hands. "Make her go away."
The only catch was, Maddie wasn't here.
I was a liar, but it was part of the job.
I checked my arm subtly and saw the small box stuck inside. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Nathan started to walk away, but then the alarms sounded. He spun around and I cursed. My plan was off by minutes. Luckily, I was good at improvising.
I may be severely injured, but that didn't change the fact I was an Elitist at heart. I stood up and used my crutch to pull Nathan closer and I used my good arm to slam his head into the table. He was knocked out cold.
The alarms continued to sound as I moved as fast as my leg could carry me down the stairs and to the lab levels. I hurried to the door of Lab 7. I knew I didn't have much time before they would get down here. I knew I would not get away this time if they did.
I stopped at the door and peeled the layer of form-fitting plastic off my hand. I had lied about that too, but that didn't matter right now. It's all for the plan.
I opened the door and went inside, pulling it shut behind me. Once I was sure the lock clicked, I looked around the room. There were so many boxes. So many files. So much at risk.
Very few people knew what the contents of Lab 7 were. Some people thought it was secret research, but in reality it wasn't research. It wasn't even science or math.
It was history.
The history of every single agent and every single mission they went on. Documented for reasons I never exactly knew. I guess if a case was reopened, or someone got out, or if we needed to use it as a source, or maybe something I would never guess.
Maybe it's the fact the history of an organization can be just as strong, if not stronger, than the current organization.
I moved the boxes off the racks, and I heard gunshots from the floor right above me. I knew what I had to do, and I was fine with it.
I positioned the boxes carefully and slid out the box of matches I had hidden under my cast. I sighed and lit the first one and dropped it into the top box. I continued to light the matches until they were all used up, and the room was filled with smoke.
I headed over to the door and put my hand on the handle. It was still locked. Good.
I sat down with my back propped up against the door and felt the heat from the fire on my face. I would make sure the plan was completed. It was my job. I had to protect the information in Lab 7, and that meant destroying it.
And I would make sure that happened.
The only thing that could possibly stop the fire was if the fire-safety instruments kicked in. There were no sprinklers in this level - to avoid water damage. But there was a machine that could suck all the oxygen out of a room to stop all fuel to the fire. That would only work if someone hadn't dismantled it.
Take a guess who dismantled it.
More gunshots, this time outside the door. I closed my eyes. It was ok. I didn't mind the heat. It was better than the shocks, the lack of sleep, the hallucinations, and the medications. At least I knew the fire was real. I knew that much.
A few minutes passed, and the air was filled with smoke. I coughed weakly. It was ok.
There was pounding on the door. "Brooke, open the door," Kyle yelled.
"Agent Key! Don't do this!" Agent Katherine yelled.
"Brookie, please!" Kyle shouted again. "This doesn't have to be part of your plan! Prove that you are stronger!"
I whispered hoarsely, so quietly that I barely heard myself, and they definitely did not hear me through the flameproof door. "But I'm not."
And then I closed my eyes.
The plan was finished. It was all ok.
They were all safe.