The Institute (34 page)

One thing that
I noticed about Licia was she was only projecting to and from work
on specific days. She could clearly do it well; she could spend
hours, whole shifts, in her projected state. She had her limits
though, and after logging her activity for almost three weeks, I
concluded that she was unable to do it on days she was rostered on
for full eight hour shifts. That’s how we were able to orchestrate
this arrest date, knowing she would be here herself and not her
projection.

The arrest team
have checked their equipment and the plan twice already but Lynch
still hasn’t given us the green light. It’s getting close to lunch
time and I can’t stand this waiting around anymore.

“Okay, let’s
get this over with,” I say, trying to hurry things along, ignoring
Lynch’s command chain. Before hearing her response, I start walking
in the direction of the restaurant, fear and nerves starting to
course through me.

You will get to
see Shilah, you will get to see Shilah, I keep telling myself.

I reach the
entrance to the restaurant and I pause for a moment, taking a deep
breath before opening the door. The nerves inside are building,
making their way from my stomach and into my throat, trying to find
an escape. My heart tries to fight Leo – who is just outside the
restaurant –forcing it to maintain a slow, calm rate. That’s his
ability; controlling people’s heart rate. He did it to me while
they were interrogating me trying to keep me calm. I also borrowed
his ability to help me pass the field test before I became an
agent.

I walk into the
restaurant filled with anticipation and nerves. I make my way into
the kitchen, ready to lure Licia out the back of the restaurant
where everyone is waiting, hiding until our target is in
position.

“Well this is a
little anti-climactic,” I say when I realise Licia is nowhere to be
found. I see one of the chef’s near the walk in fridge, maybe she
knows where she is. “Hey Jo, have you seen Licia?” I ask
casually.

“She has called
in sick. Her and one of the dishies. You’re going to have a pretty
busy shift,” Jo replies angrily.

She’s going to
be even angrier in a minute when I tell her I can’t stay either. I
would feel bad, but it’s not like this is my actual job, or that I
even get paid. As a field agent, we aren’t allowed to keep the
money we earn. Everything we need is provided and any wages earned
from undercover jobs goes straight to the Institute. If we are
unable to financially support ourselves, we would be less inclined
to try and leave; just another way to make sure we are unable to
escape, I suppose.

I don’t know
how to tell Jo that I’m going to have to leave too. Should I start
faking a coughing fit? Just tell her I’m leaving? Should I just
walk out?

“Hey honey,”
Drew’s voice comes from behind me. I still shudder at the notion
that we are meant to be married, according to everyone in this town
anyway – that was the brilliant cover story our bosses at the
Institute came up with. I turn to see Drew without his protective
gear on and he seems rushed, almost panicked. “There has been a
horrible accident. You need to come to the hospital with me, right
now. It’s your father.”

Dad? That can’t
be true, we don’t know where Dad is. the Institute lost track of
him after I was arrested. Oh. Duh, this is my out. Drew heard Licia
isn’t here in his earpiece and is giving me an excuse to leave.
It’s a horrible excuse, usually one that is saved for terrible
dates. I remember having to do it for my friend Ebbodine – a couple
of times, actually.

“I’m so sorry
Jo, I have to leave,” I say, matching Drew’s panicked tone. We
don’t wait for Jo to respond before we leave the restaurant and
start heading back to where we met up with the team a few streets
over.

“You’re
welcome,” Drew says.

“I’m sorry, am
I meant to thank you? I was about to tell her I was sick so I could
leave. I didn’t need you,” I reply, annoyed.

“Oh please, you
and I both know that you would have stayed out of guilt from
leaving them understaffed. You’re too nice.”

“I am not.”
He’s actually probably right, but I am not going to admit that and
give him the satisfaction.

We get back to
where Costello and the van are and we all climb in the back. “So,
I’m guessing the arrest didn’t go well then?” Costello asks as he
starts up the engine.

“No, it didn’t
go at all,” Lynch replies with slight annoyance in her tone.

“So that’s it?”
I ask. “What do we do now?”

“We will have
to go and get her from her home,” Lynch answers. “The same plan
will work. You can use some story about hearing that she was sick
and you wanted to see if she was alright.”

I try to
protest but Drew beats me to it, “You want to send her, a newbie,
unarmed and unprotected by herself? No. I won’t allow that – it’s
too dangerous.” I really want to yell at him for standing up for me
– I don’t need him to do that – I can do it myself. But I agree
with him and if I dispute that, I may end up unwittingly
volunteering to go in.

“Well you
aren’t the one in charge, are you, Jacobs? It will be fine. It’s
not like the target has an aggressive ability” Lynch replies
condescendingly.

“There has to
be another way,” Drew argues.

“We can take
them by surprise,” Bek chimes in. “We surround the house, Eugene
can break down the front door, pushing the target and possibly her
parents too, fleeing out the back where the rest of us will be
ready.”

Lynch thinks
about it for a moment.

“Okay. Leo,
Allira, and Eugene, you take the front, the rest of us will wait
out the back. Allira, we can give you a protection vest, but you
haven’t had any special weapons training so we can’t give you a
gun. You will just have to stay behind Leo and follow his lead.
”

I’m fitted into
a vest as we pull up just short of Licia’s street. This all seems
to be happening so fast.

“Are we ready?”
Costello asks. Lynch looks to all of us, and takes our silence as
agreement.

“Let’s do
this,” she replies. “Move silently and move quickly.”

The van takes
off again slowly, and continues to creep along the street until
coming to a final stop in front of Licia’s neighbour’s house. We
file out, Lynch, Bek and Drew run swiftly, with light footing, it’s
almost elegant to watch. They disappear around the back of the
house while Jack, Leo and I cautiously approach the stoop to the
front porch.

Jack takes out
the door with one swift kick. He raises his gun and checks the
first room, he moves onto the second as Leo and I enter and double
check the first room. It’s awkward, I am pushed up against his
back, kind of using him as a human shield. I hope he doesn’t know
that’s my intention.

Jack clears the
second room, which is the living room and then moves onto the
bedrooms. We follow, double checking all of them. We move on to the
bathrooms, the laundry and then finally the kitchen. There’s no one
here. They have left – in a hurry too by the look of it. Nearly
everything is still here, an untrained eye would simply think they
are out for the day. Not us, we were trained to notice things, like
the missing family photos.

There’s no
doubt that they have fled again and I have to remind myself that
smiling would be a really inappropriate thing to do right now.

***

After spending
the remainder of the afternoon and most of the evening asking
around the neighbourhood about the Johns’ last known whereabouts
and searching their house for any indication of where they might be
headed, Drew and I are back home, in our shared house. At least
this house has two separate bedrooms, unlike the first one they
gave us which had one bedroom and one bathroom. I feel like I have
my own space here and I need that.

“So we’re not
going back to the Institute anytime soon, are we?” I ask Drew as we
sit at the dining table for a late dinner.

“I never
thought I’d see the day where you were hoping to go back to that
place.”

“You know why I
want to go back,” I say.

Drew nods,
“Yeah. I do. We’ll be back soon enough.”

“We both know
that’s not true. We have no idea when this assignment will
end.”

We continue to
eat, in silence. I don’t have anything to say and he doesn’t know
what to say.

I haven’t seen
Shilah in three months. I don’t know if he is still in the training
program, I don’t know if he is okay. While I couldn’t help but
smirk at the fact our targets have fled, it does mean I will have
to continue to wonder about Shilah until we finally catch Licia or
are called back for a new assignment.

“So, where are
we meant to go from here?” I ask Drew.

“We start
again,” replies Drew. “We ask those who knew them, try and find out
if they had anywhere to go.”

“The last time
they tried to evade us, they moved to a town only thirty minutes
away before they thought they would be safe. Maybe they are still
close?” I speculate.

“Maybe. Or
maybe they have learnt from their last attempt.”

I sigh, “I
think I’m going to go to bed.” Even though no arrest ended up
happening today, it was still an exhausting day; physically and
mentally draining. I’d love nothing more than to go to my room,
climb into bed and close my eyes. But that’s not why I am going to
bed.

I go to my
bedroom and close my door behind me. I get the wooden chair that
sits in the corner and place the back rest under my door handle,
preventing Drew from being able to open it. I go to my bed, lift
the fitted sheet and slide my fingers into the hidden slot that I
cut into my mattress. I pull out a key, a key that was given to me
by Paxton, the head of the agent training department of the
Institute. I unlock my Institute issued tracking bracelet and place
it under my pillow. Slipping my feet into my boots and making my
way over to the window, I slide it open as silently as possible and
grab my jacket before climbing outside and sneaking away into the
night.

I half walk,
half jog a few blocks towards where I need to go. I see my breath
in the crisp air every time I exhale and put my hands in my pockets
to keep them warm.

Walking past an
old children’s playground out the back of an abandoned apartment
block, I look at the neglected swing set and broken monkey bars. I
think back to a time when I used to be able to play, care free.
Then we discovered Shilah was Defective and we never visited a
playground again.

My thoughts are
disrupted by the rustling of leaves behind me. I am quick to turn
around, but with my hands in my pockets, I’m not quick enough to
react and I’m knocked to the ground. I try to break my fall but my
head still smacks the pavement. That’s going to hurt later. I’m
fast to get back up on my feet though, fast to stand poised, and
ready to face my attacker.

My heart starts
racing, I take in a deep breath and tell myself to concentrate on
him, on the way he moves. He makes his move and I block his hit. I
punch back, pushing my way forward, ducking to miss his hits and
blocking him from advancing on me. He is ready for my punches
though and evades every one of them. I keep lunging forward,
attacking with my fists, making him retreat backwards. I don’t give
him a chance to advance on me. A look of realisation and defeat
crosses his face when I corner him up against an old oak tree. He
can’t go back any farther; he can only come at me or sideways. He’s
mine. From here, I can take him out no matter which direction he
goes.

I grin, “Oh
Chad. I’m so disappointed in you.”

“Not as
disappointed as I am in you,” he says seriously.

“What? What did
I do wrong this time?”

“You weren’t
ready for me. I should never have been able to get you on the
ground. You’re lucky, I didn’t knock you unconscious.” He steps
forward, touching his hand to the back of my head where it slammed
onto the ground. “How’s the head?” he says with a slight smile on
his lips.

I sigh, and
move away from him. He’s right. I wasn’t ready for him. I was too
distracted by the playground, reminiscing about my childhood and
unarming myself by putting my hands in my pockets. My head hurts
from my fall but I’m not going to admit that.

“I still had
you,” I smirk.

“You got
lucky,” Chad replies. “So how did today go?” he asks.

“Funny thing
happened. The Johns family have seemed to have disappeared,” I
reply, still smiling.

“Well, that is
a shame. I wonder what could have happened to them,” Chad says, a
knowing smirk crossing his face.