Wednesday, October 01, 2003
Go FOURTH: Another Damn Snippet of the Same Damn Story
(Note: This is the fourth dollop of a serialized story that I’m posting this week instead of writing anything new for immediate public consumption. You can find the introduction here, part one here, and part two here. All caught up? Well you should have thought of that before you left the house, because now we rejoin our intrepid hero in:
ADOLPHO’S BIG NIGHT part III: THE AGENT
Adolpho had been bopping along to the beat, resting his eyes and savoring the physical sensation of a deep, strong bass line. As he raised his glass to drain the final mouthful of lager, he stepped back for balance. A voice spoke in his ear - quiet, a little tense, very self-assured: “Don’t turn around.” Adolpho finished the beer and stared straight ahead. The voice continued, “Glance over the bar - use the mirror. Move slowly.” Turning his head a few inches to the side, he could see the man who was speaking to him in the long mirror. He stood just behind Adolpho, facing the bar. He was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, thick arms and intelligent eyes. He was dressed impeccably in a black suit and a white formal shirt, the top two buttons casually undone. Their eyes met in the mirror and the stranger shot Adolpho a look that seemed to speak volumes: “Don’t look at me anymore; listen closely to what I’m about to tell you; I’m on your side.” With an assumed casualness he didn’t really feel, Adolpho returned his gaze to the front of the bar, though his attention was now focused on this man standing behind him.
“Don’t speak - this place isn’t safe.” The man’s voice was firm; he spoke as if he was used to being obeyed, and to being right. Adolpho nodded his head almost imperceptibly. “Do you think you were followed here?” Adolpho shook his head. “Are you sure?” He shook his head again. “We need to talk - things have gotten complicated. We’re going to move - follow me, and keep your eyes to yourself.”
The stranger began to step to the back of the club, toward the dj. Adolpho followed, concentrating on the man’s back as they cut through the crowd. Something told him that he might be in danger if he didn’t follow instructions. They reached the sound table and the stranger exchanged a glance with the dj behind it, a burly man with a shaved head dressed in black leather with wraparound shades. The dj stepped a bit closer to the console and the man led Adolpho behind it, past the turntables, back into the far corner where the door to the huge safe stood, its works exposed and gleaming. The man punched a series of recessed keys at the inner edge of the massive door. The machinery did not move, but something moved somewhere - Adolpho could feel the meshing of heavy metal bars and gears under the floor, like the opening of prison doors. A black velvet backdrop hung from ceiling to floor at the corner of the room, masking the hinges of the huge safe door. The man stood next to that drapery, pulling Adolpho next to him with a gentle yet vice-like grip on his arm, and then nodded to the dj, who tapped a button on the edge of the equalizer.
A highly amplified speaker near the front of the club came on line - every head spun toward the door. The man pulled Adolpho behind the drapery, where the hidden corner of the door – to all appearances, the hinged edge – stood ajar a few inches. Slipping inside, the man led Adolpho through the narrow gap into a corridor that sloped sharply upwards. Once they were both inside, the man punched another code into a keypad on the wall and the door swung shut with a deep resonant thump that echoed in Adolpho’s bones.
The floor was concrete, smooth, not old. The walls were cinderblock. A small bright bulb had been set into the concrete ceiling, illuminating a narrow passage that sloped up sharply to a severe curve around a corner fifty feet or so away. “Are we safe?,” Adolpho asked, his voice sounding disembodied in the antiseptic space. After the noise and bustle of the club, the passageway seemed morbidly quiet. “I can’t tell yet. Let’s go,” the man replied, walking swiftly along the passage. His footsteps echoed with a hard hollow crack each time his heels hit the floor; Adolpho’s steps were so quiet he was sure he could hear his heart beating. After the curve in the passageway the steep climb continued toward another u-turn at the next corner, and then again to another; it seemed to Adolpho that they were snaking back and forth up to the top of the building. When he had arrived he hadn’t really paid attention to the height of the building but he thought three or four flights was about as tall as it should be; after ten or so switchbacks he felt sure they’d climbed a lot higher than that.
The man’s powerful physique filled the skinny hallway in front of Adolpho, who had no idea how much further he would be taken - until, without warning, the man stopped and gestured with his hand in front of him; a hissing and clicking indicated that another security door had opened. The man stepped out into the cold night air and Adolpho followed him through this second door, noting in passing that, instead of a lock or keypad, the door bore a metal plate with the imprint of a hand, laser-readers set into all five fingertips. The door shut behind them with a clunk that sounded terribly final. They had reached the top of the building, many stories above ground, on the roof of a tower set far back from the edges of the main structure. Peering down below, Adolpho saw that the base of the tower was protected with steel spikes set into the walls, wrapped with razor wire and surveyed by several cameras. “Get away from the edge,” the man ordered.
Adolpho quickly pulled back. “Are we safe yet?,” he repeated. “Safe enough to talk,” the man replied. “Our ride will be here soon. I’ve sent the extract signal. First things first - are you okay?” “Yes, I’m fine,” Adolpho answered, “but why have you taken me here?” “They said you’d be curious,” the man said almost to himself. “That will help when we’re in the field. Training will start tomorrow at o-five hundred; you’ll need language, demolition and protocol. Here’s the short version: There are some secrets we let them steal, and some that we don’t. They are planning to steal some secrets we can’t afford to share. I was brought in to protect them - to protect our national security. I couldn’t do it alone, so I had them find you. Between the two of us, they won’t know what hit them. But let me assure you of one thing - no one will know about our mission short of the highest levels of intelligence - ours, and possibly theirs if we’re not careful. For sure, our President won’t be informed. Some things are better kept out of the hands of children, if you know what I mean. So don’t expect him to thank you for your work. Your thanks will be the preservation of our way of life. In the field, you’ll either enjoy the height of luxury or the depths of privation. Probably both. You’ll be compensated well if you survive. If you don’t… it’ll be like you never existed. Are you ready to get started?”
Adolpho heard a whirring sound overhead. Looking up, he saw a black chopper in whisper mode hovering in place, shedding altitude quickly until he could distinguish the rivets in its fuselage. A bay door opened and a rope ladder dropped to the rooftop. The man slapped Adolpho on the shoulder. “Take the first step, son - the rest will all come easily.” Adolpho gulped, gripped the twisted cords and set a foot on the metal rung that swayed before him in the downdraft of the chopper. “Okay,” he thought to himself, “now things are really getting too interesting....”
