The Dimly Lit Meeting Room (The End – Chapter 3 – Part 3)

 

Mr Id led Bond and me into a small, dimly lit meeting room. I remember preparing some missions there a few years ago. Jules shut the door behind us. He stood near it, silent the whole time. The Taulier spoke.

“Sorry to keep you waiting in the main auditorium. I couldn’t have your colleagues wondering about your absence when everyone else had been summoned. As you already know, their missions are quite important, but there are even more important matters. And I need you both for them.”
“More important than stopping the Order from taking over the world? You’ve got my attention,” I interjected.
“Good. First, watch this, please. It happened three weeks ago,” the Taulier said.

 

He pressed a button on the large table and one of the screens on the wall came on. It was from the CCTV in the infirmary, in Guardian Angel’s room.

At first, the comatose agent lay still, as he’d been doing for who knew how long. Machines around his bed beeped and did whatever those machines were supposed to do. Nothing changed for a while, until the beeping picked up a bit. It got faster and faster and suddenly there was movement. It was not the video flickering. Guardian Angel was moving. A few seconds later, he moved again. His head turned slowly to the right, then to the left, then again faster – as if he was having a nightmare. His blissful smile was gone. His lips moved. He spoke:

“Oh?… Hi!… Wait… What?… You’re alive? Am I alive too? Are we all alive? Or dead?… Are we all dead?… Not yet?… Why are you here? Next month? What happens next month?… What will happen? When?… In six years!? Why are you telling me all this?… What? Oh no? Please, no!”

Guardian Angel sat up on his bed, the machines all beeping very quickly. The alarm system went off. Then Guardian Angel fell onto the bed and, one by one, the machines returned to their normal beeping rhythm. He closed his eyes and smiled. A few seconds later, the silhouette of Father Dophyl ran into the room, alerted by the alarm system. He checked Guardian Angel’s vital signs and left puzzled, having found nothing unusual.
Mr Id paused the video.

“Well, I think…”
The Taulier interrupted Bond, “Wait, it’s not over, there’s more.”

He pressed another button and another screen lit up next to the first. Another CCTV from the infirmary. It showed the corridor next to Guardian Angel’s room. Mr. Id played the footage from the first video in sync with the new one.

Someone was in the corridor. It was Goulu, one of Doc’s more primitive clones. He was mopping the floor. He stopped a few seconds before the machine in Angel’s room started beeping faster. There was a small twitch in his face. He froze, his eyes wide open, and stayed that way the whole time Guardian Angel spoke. When Guardian Angel returned to his normal state, Goulu’s face became one of sheer terror. He screamed. A loud and terrifying scream that sounded like he was about to be murdered. He ran down the corridor opposite where Father Dophyl was arriving.

Mr Id stopped both videos. I looked at Bond, who looked back at me. We both looked at Id.

“Guardian Angel hasn’t moved since,” the Taulier replied before we could ask. “Father Dophyl found Goulu shortly after the incident. He’s been in shock ever since. Professor Gravier is the only one who has been able to approach him. But he couldn’t make out much of what the poor fool was saying. After an unintelligible logorrhoea of words the day after, he has barely spoken since.”
“Did Doc talk to him?”
“Jules and I discussed whether to involve Doc. We decided it was safer for everyone to keep the other agents in the dark for now. Doc included.”

Jules nodded.

“You have some idea of what’s going on, don’t you?” I asked.
“Not exactly. That’s why you’re both here. And there is more. I’m afraid I didn’t tell the whole truth in the conference room earlier. It’s about Dreamz…”
“Yes? What about Dreamz? Is he alive?”
“No. Unfortunately, he’s as brain-dead as it gets. But it didn’t happen while the intel on the Order was being compiled. Only Bartleby and Worthington worked on it, separately. Dreamz’s job was to probe Guardian Angel’s mind. That’s what killed him.”
“So you need us to find out what happened and what’s going on because we’re the only ones up to the task?”
“Yes, but don’t pat yourself on the back just yet, Bond. You two may be the best at what you do, but keep in mind that this happened, here at HQ, without warning, undetected by anyone except the CCTV… It is worrying. I want to make sure you understand how serious this is.”
“You know we do Taulier,” I added. “You also know this is how we roll. Okay, first, any idea who is alive according to Guardian Angel?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I would assume an agent, but we have lost a lot of people over the years. It could be one of his former teammates. It makes the most sense in the absence of any other information.”
“Yes, it does.”
“But is it realistic? Is there any chance that any of them could have survived?” Bond wasn’t so sure.
“Very unlikely.” Mr. Id had to admit, “Angel was the only one we found in one piece. We took DNA samples from everyone else in the compound where it happened. We managed to identify body parts from his whole team except Ellie. We found some of her blood, but nothing else. At the time, the most likely explanation was that she had been completely vaporised. Were we wrong? Could she have survived and been the one who spoke to Angel? It’s a possibility, yes. It’s somewhat your job to find out what happened.”
“Of course it is.”
“That’s all I have for you right now. Jules and I need to check on the other teams and make sure they’re ready to go.”
“We’ll let you know what we find as soon as we do.”
“Be careful. Don’t follow Dreamz’s path. I need you both alive and well.”
“We’ll do our best.”
“I know you will. Good luck.”

Jules and the Taulier left the room. Bond switched on a few more lights. I sighed.

“Well, this time it’s for real. We’re back in business, just like the good old days.”
“Yes, we are.”

 

******

 

“So… how have you been?”
“I’m alright. I’m back. There is that.”
“Psycho-fiction again, right?”
Bond nodded. The Count continued:
“Where this time?”
“Paris in the 2020s. I’m not sure why. I wanted something as different as possible. I let my subconscious do the rest. Your hair is shorter.”
“Yeah. Part of getting older, I guess. Your pants are…”
“I know. I haven’t had a chance to change yet.”
“I thought you arrived two days ago?”
“So, how do we do this?”

The Count didn’t emphasize this blatant change of topic. He’d have plenty of time to tease his friend about his attire now that they were a team again. And discussing a plan of action was more à propos.

“How about we start with me inspecting Angel’s room and you talking to Goulu? Or get into his mind, whichever works better…”
“Sounds good. Let’s meet back here when we’re done.”

They engaged in some more small talk on the way to the infirmary. The real catching up and reconnecting, like in the old days, would have to wait a little longer. The infirmary was only a few minutes’ walk from the main hall, anyway. The clones’ quarters were right next to the infirmary. They went their separate ways after Bond winked and the Count chuckled a little. Reconnecting shouldn’t be too difficult. Finding the time to do it might be harder, given the situation.

 

 

(to be continued)

 

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