Spoiler! :
Staring through a small circular glass window, Mark thought he never saw a more picturesque scene. People hurried about like rats scurrying for shelter just before a rain. Indeed, it was going to rain. Heavily. He smiled, and felt rather than saw the fear in those around him. The lift in which he was traveling stopped and the doors hissed opened. He turned around and edged his way to the door, stepping on the others’ toes in the process. Not hearing, or at any rate, not heeding, their protests, he stepped out into a cluttered corridor and heard with satisfaction the door hiss shut behind him.
He squinted in the growing mistiness and saw two figures striding towards him. He ducked into some garbage at one side. It stank. He choked down a cough and cursed his rash behavior. The receiver in his ear started beeping. damn it, man, now is not the time! He clicked a small red button on his watch and held it to his mouth. “Report.” Andora’s voice boomed in his ear.
“Cutthroat here. Near designated operating space, two bluetops coming my way”
Bluetops was the nickname they had given to the police. His call sign was Cutthroat, Andora’s Master, and they had given Maria the code-name of Silent, for obvious reasons, she had not spoken a word since they had left the hideout. “Ok good. Silent is at designated location, as am I. She will rendezvous with you for the uniforms. Got it?”
“Got it. Cutthroat out.”
Mark smiled. He was in his element now. He coiled himself and waited for the officers to pass him, then, like a coiled viper, he struck. His blow struck the nearest officer at the back of the neck. The impetuous threw both to the ground. Viciously, he threw blow after blows onto the man’s head, knocking him out. The other officer had stood, aiming his gun for a shot. He never got it. A small green tipped dart flew into the back of his head, and he dropped, stone dead.
“Thanks.” Mark got up and wiped blood from his face. Maria simply stared back.
His receiver beeped again, and he lifted the watch to his mouth. “Cutthroat here. What’s next, Master?”
“Are their access card with them?”
Mark fumbled through the pockets. “Yeah.”
“Get changed, quickly. I have one already, will meet with you at the south entrance.”
“Copy that. Cutthroat out.”
Donning the uniforms over the clothes they wore, they stowed away the two bodies among the rubbish, and put a few more sleep darts into them, then they darted off into the mist. The south entrance of the Police Headquarters was only a few hundred meters from where they had been. They stopped a few meters from the door and waited for Andora.
Walking like he owned the world, Andora strode up to the door, slid a card into the port, and pushed aside the door, holding it wide enough for his two accomplices to pass through. they made their way inconspicuously towards the computers.
He stumbled on his way to the hospital, helped by the two officers following him. They had to half-drag him, as half of him was under his control and the other half, under the alien’s. He noted with sarcasm that he had control over his heart. It was a battle of will, and he could not allow himself to lose. His mental strength was slowly ebbing away, and he knew it. He was tired, he needed rest, he needed space to think. He dragged himself to the present, and walked like a drunk towards the hospital.
Three officers, two males and a female, passed him, walking rapidly. Their faces, somehow, was familiar to him. Especially the female’s. He mind spun, trying to recollect his past, where had he seen that face before? Deep in thought, he turned to look back, not without much resistance from the alien. He stopped in shock. They were looking back to him. He couldn’t believe it. Somehow, they knew him, too. He wanted to shout, but found he could only mouth a single word.
Making their way rapidly through busy corridors, the three would duck into nearby rooms whenever someone came along. After some time, they entered an unusually long and straight corridor. There were no rooms to enter in an emergency, forcing them to move faster. They were about half-way through when they saw three figures turning in. They couldn’t turn back and run now. It was too late. They had to trust to luck and walk boldly on. Andora thought that now, surely, they would be able to make out the identities of each other now. He was shocked to see a drunken looking Matthew walking between two officers, and motioned to the group to part and let the others through. They turned to look back and saw the pained face of Matthew looking their way, mouthing for help.
As one the three impostors drew their sleep-guns and fired repeatedly. The two supporting officers fell down like rotting pieces of concrete. Matthew followed them, but was soon picked up and carried back the way they had come. Taking on the roles of the two original officers, they soon were out of the building. It had by now been raining for some time, and it came down in thick sheets. They couldn’t even see their hands. It seemed as though they were getting a free shower. They struggled their way towards the lift that had carried Mark from his car. Witth their backs against the door, They held tightly against a struggling Matthew. where could he run to in this kind of weather? Andora was perplexed. Fortunately for him, the perfect babble that came from Matthew’s lips were drowned out by the wind and rain.
The cold started to get into their bones. Oh, does it have to be so bad? Andora was beginning to have a splitting headache. The door mercifully opened, and they pushed themselves in. Mark fumbled around with the lift’s controls, he having forgotten where he had parked his car. Now that was frustrating! Andora felt like he could shout, both from the pain and from other’s stupidity. Stretching out his hand, he tapped a random number into the lift, and they felt themselves being hurtled upwards. Dang, it’s going to the top. Mark felt like berating his boss, but the sickening feeling in his gut suddenly increased, forcing him to concentrate on keeping his lunch in instead.
His knees began to wobble, and he felt himself crumple under his weight and black out. Andora looked on, laughing. Neat fall, Mark Unfortunately, he himself was beginning to feel sick on the inside, not to mention the splitting headache. Maria just threw up, and Matthew looks like the half-witted guy he is. He felt his vision blurring. His eyes watered and he blinked, trying to keep himself awake.
Frost started appearing in the lift. Frost! His mind turned. Were they caught in a sudden tropical blizzard. That made no sense. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became, Maria had now black out, shivering uncontrollably. He turned to look at Matthew, and saw with horror that the formerly brown eyes now were, yellow? He couldn’t believe his eyes. Or the eyes of Matthew either. He has a far-away look I have not seen in a long time He blacked out.
Andora woke up with a start. He could not see anything. He blinked, nothing happened. Shaking his head with frustration, he blinked again, and now could see blur figures moving about him. His vision slowly returned to him, until now he could see clearly, almost, anyway. Chained to slanting beds next to each other, the four of them were arranged in a semi-circle. At least they could be called beds, they were cushioned, feeling somewhat like a dead chicken. A dead chicken! His mind revolted in alarm. How he hated chickens. His earliest remembrance of a chicken had been of a headless one. He had hated them ever since.
His arms, legs, and chest were chained to the “bed”, so was all of the others. Now they began to awaken. Mark looks around like an idiot, Maria has a similar look. Urgh, Matthew, what happened to you? Matthew’s yellow eyes made him look even worse than ever. He had a hang-dog look on his face. He looked at the items , so he called them, in front of him. Ghosts. Bloody chicken, why do they always interfere with me? Anger welled up inside Andora.
A gravelly voice boomed in his ear. “Are you agent Andora?”
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, what was all the frosty weather about, huh, dusty head?”
“We divined your intentions. You were going to rescue a comrade of yours who we were about to turn.”
Cramp it! You could have told me! Andora rolled his eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me, and why is his eyes yellow?”
The clink of sharp metal sounded close to his neck, he resisted the urge to look and stared the Ghost calmly in the face. “Did you transfer consciousness?”
“How would you know, human? Your civilization is much less complex or mature than ours.”
Stinking skunk! Andora revolted on the inside, but he merely put on a show of being cocky, “I know, right?”
“The transfer seems to have failed partially, in that one of the two now has only memories of both and the other the consciousness. It seems we will need to refine our technology, and you will do finely for a first.”
Andora’s head spun. Never! his mind protested, I would kill myself first! He remained silent on the outside. Inside, he mentally wrapped himself in a cocoon of mind guard technique. How he learned them he knew not, but it could help.
Soon enough, a dome large enough to fit onto his head came silently down. It wheezed and swooshed as it fitted itself onto him. His head began to scream in pain as the sound of screwdrivers piercing into his head washed him up a tube, he felt turmoil all around him. water seemed to be everywhere. He felt himself black out, dumped somewhere, maybe inside a garbage bag.
Fifteen minutes later, he slowly awakened, a small shaft of light penetrated into his eyes as he slowly regained consciousness. He looked around him with bewilderment. A whole crowd was gathered around him. They were looking all over him with the greatest interest. He took a look too, and saw himself as a Ghost. Alright, did I end up in a rubbish bin? He alighted from the bed he was placed on, and looked at his hands. Unbelievable, I did end up in a trash can.
continued...
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