“...ulse is at 110BPM. He’s alive.”
Smithson’s mouth was dry. That's the only observation he could make. That and the voice of what he deduced to be a man. Late 30s. Smoker, he had a rasp to his speech. That and that his mouth was dry. Two separate observations, only linked by the fact that he was on the floor, groggily waking up from passing out.
“The time..” Smithson’s voice cracked, his throat devoid of any moisture to help his words sound pleasant.
“EX 138, can you hear me?” The man asked, before putting up four fingers before Smithson’s eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”.
Smithson glared at the fingers. Four. Four fingers, dry mouth, late 30s smoker. It was the emergency response team he had called.
“Four.” He replied, slowly sitting upright, stretching his neck and rubbing his head, where it seems the pain he had felt had subsided. “And again, the time?”.
“5:12AM 138.” The ER responded. With some strength regained, Smithson pointed to the draw of his desk. “My pills, they’re in there, and some water please.” The ER spent no time delaying, and quickly shot to his feet, making his way to the draw. Another ER respondent, an early 20s woman, knelt down where the previous ER had been.
“Director Jessica should be here any minute EX-138.”
“You told her?” He asks. Another worry to add to her shoulders Smithson thought. The last thing this operation needed was more stress.
“It's regulation, I’m afraid.” The woman shrugs and gives a wry smile, before being passed the pills Smithson asked for, as well as a glass of water. “Here you go.”
Dry mouth. Late 30s smoker. Early 20s woman. And now Jess.
Downing the pills and water, Smithson repeated this. A grounding technique, something he learnt in MI5 when things got way too much. It was easy to forget that agents were human. He was lucky that he and Jess were assigned together, or else he would’ve gone insane.
He chuckles.
“The dynamic duo”.
Just as he mutters this, Jess arrives at the doorway. Shirt untucked, her tie haphazardly knotted around her neck. Her heavy breathing filled the room.
“Report, now.”
It had been a while since Smithson saw Jess so serious, an emotion which, although plastered on her face throughout every interaction, wasn’t put into practice regularly. That face was more of a defence mechanism, something to show authority to hide the fact that, just like everyone else, she had no idea what was going on at the start of each operation. This was among many other reasons, but they were more personal, and Smithson brushed them off. They’re not that duo anymore, it wasn’t his place to pry.
“He’s been passed out for around two hours ma’am. Blood coming from the nose. Pupils dilated.” The ER stated to Jess (the male ER, that rasp was insistent). Jess nods.
“Ok everyone, I need to talk to 138, alone. Leave”.
In a unison “yes ma’am”, the ER packed up, and upon wishing Smithson a fast recovery, left the metallic cabin, closing the door behind them.
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“Jess I-” Smithson starts, hesitating before finding the right words to wrap into a believable lie, “I just forgot to take my meds in time, that's all, I’m fine, really”.
Jess remained silent, walking past Smithson and analysing the desk in front of her. The flashing amber light of the laptop’s power button illuminated the keyboard slightly, to which she leant down and pressed the power button, upon which, the screen illuminating, revealed what Smithson had been looking at previously.
“Oh that, I was just, doing some extra resear-”
“You promised you would never view this” Jess states, monotone. “You promised yourself.” She turns, facing Smithson, who was sitting on the ground, “what changed?”.
The tension in the air became palpable, as Smithson looked back at Jess’s face. Serious. Actually serious.
“It stated in the briefing that it was important to the operation, so I-”
“Bullshit”, Jess snapped. Emotional, and serious. “Bullshit Smithson, you promised on James’s goddamn life you wouldn’t touch this.”
Smithson stands up. “And? In case you’ve forgotten, that house is the house Jess. If James is in there by any chance, I need to know everything, if that means breaking a promise which, by the way, I made to myself, then I don’t see the issue.”
“You arrogant prick!” Jess moves with pace, and shoves Smithson towards the door, tears forming in her eyes.
Smithson was confused. What was the issue here? It wasn’t true, sure, but even if it was, did it really justify this anger? Just before he retaliated, Smithson saw his pen in Jess’s hand, and realised that, somehow, Jess had thrusted a piece of paper into his hand:
The cameras. They’re listening. Move outside
Smithson looked up at Jess. Then around the room, and the corners, where two CCTV cameras sat, blinking red. How? How did he not notice them before?
“Fuck. You.” Smithson uttered, his fake anger propelling towards Jess, before grabbing the handle, swinging the door open, and storming outside.
***
“You didn’t have to lie, you know?”
Jess lights a cigarette, and offers one to Smithson, who accepts. “5:15AM, like clockwork. You think I’d believe that shit you cooked up?”
Smithson chuckled slightly, but his face went blank as soon as he did. He's tired, very tired.
“Just didn’t want you to stress, that's all.”
A few moments of silence.
“What happened Smithson?”
Smithson once again hesitated, which had now become a problem. But it felt more like an unwanted reflex, a compulsion, like wanting to place your hand on a stove, something you don’t want to do, but your body forces you too.
“I listened to the log. It’s wrong.”
Jess’s face twitches in confusion.
“Wrong? What do you mean?”
“I knew a member’s name. I don’t know any of their names. But I did, I said it. I said something I don’t know.” Smithson took a deep drag of his cigarette, sighing it back out into the cold October air.
“After that?”
“Pain.” Smithson utters. “Unbearable pain. And…visions.”
Jess turns towards him. “Shit Smithson, visions? Fuck. How? The base should be in-line with baseline reality, the veritas readers should’ve gone off! This could be a breach of safety!”
“James was there.”
“...what?”
“A choir. An outstretched hand. A lab. A man in a black suit. And James”. Smithson tilts his head slightly, letting out another breath of smoke. “He was speaking. I didn’t pick it all up, but I made out one sentence. Wake up, my little songbird.”
Jess was panicked. She didn’t show it, but Smithson could feel it, as if her aura suddenly shifted.
“Smithson, you could be at serious risk. I can request your termination from the operation if nee-”
“I’m going to bed”. Smithson abruptly put out his cigarette, and headed back into the cabin. He turns towards Jess before closing the door.
“And I’m getting to the bottom of this, and I need your help to do so.”
The door shuts. Jess sighs, a small smile creeps up on her face. Not joyous, but sad, panicked, but relieved.
“Of course you do.”
She blows out smoke, looking up at the clear autumn sky, the moon glowing pure white above.
“The dynamic duo.”
She chuckles, puts out her cigarette, and walks off.