Simmons Situation Ch 5

At some point, someone put black fabric sacks over our heads.  The air conditioner in the sedan was on full blast, however; they took no caution that Michelle might get too warm inside.  I began to feel a little seasick from the shifting of the car and the many turns... I never could ride inside a car if I couldn't see where I was going.
Finally, before I felt dizzy and close to leaving the rest of the contents of my stomach on the floor of the sedan, the car came to a stop and both of the doors were opened.  The sacks were removed from mine and Michelle's head.  I didn't have to adjust to the light; we were inside a large garage of some kind.  There was another sedan a short distance across from us - Collette and Shelly were inside the back, and they had worn similar black sacks which were also removed.  They took the four of us out and lined us up in a row - all four of us were wearing handcuffs.
"Follow that blue line on the floor.  You, the blonde, you go first and the rest follow."
Collette started walking first and followed the line exactly.  It lead to a doorway and a hallway beyond, into a smaller room with four smaller rooms yet that looked like interrogation chambers.  At the end of the blue line was another suited individual, this time a woman.
"Pick a room.  No sharing," she ordered.  "If you play nice, you will be released from the handcuffs.  Do you accept?"
None of us said anything.  We still didn't know if these people were FBI, CIA, Secrelia, or someone else.  No suit thus far had been wearing any identification, so we all must've felt the same thing - playing nice was preferred to wearing heavy metal cuffs.  Each of us picked a different room and the clicking of handcuff keys was heard later.

Though we were all interviewed separately, I suspect all four of us were asked the same thing.  Mine was a young woman with red hair and a few bulges beneath her white shirt and tie.
"We have you identified as Gregory Claxion of Richfield Minnesota.  Is this correct?"
I nodded.  Normally I'd have asked a question about who they were, but by now I had dealt with these types enough times to know that anything I said wouldn't be acknowledged until they wanted an answer.
"My name is Agent Katherine Rennett of the CIA.  According to our data, you have a file with the FBI?"
I nodded.  And Secrelia, but I wasn't about to tell ya that.
"Would you like to tell me what is in that file?"
I folded my arms and leaned onto the table.  "That all depends on what will happen to me next.  But doesn't the FBI share its info with the CIA?"
"Privacy laws and multiple congressional acts prevent such free exchanges, I assure you.  But if you tell me why I brought you in, our discussion will go much more smoothly... unless, by some chance, you are as gifted as your two female friends?"
Two friends?  Perhaps they didn't know about Shelly just yet.  "If you're waiting for me to sprout tires, you're in for a long wait."
Rennett nodded.  "One of our agents received a severe shock when they went through what, we assumed, to be your luggage."
"And how did you deduce which luggage was mine?" I asked.
"It was the only bag without bras inside."
I shrugged.  Yeah, that's a good way to find out.  "You found something inside that was shocking, perhaps?"
Agent Rennett motioned to another agent in the hall.  They brought in a small plastic tub, where my Neptune Pearl was rolling around inside, though the lid was sealed tightly.  "You've seen this before?"
"Should someone who is an enemy try to pick it up, they will be dealt with," I replied.  "Though I'm afraid your agent will recover."
"He's already in the burn ward at the hospital," Rennett replied.
I smirked quietly.  "Good."
Rennett returned the tub to the second agent, who exited the room and closed the door.  "Care to explain what that does?"
"In short, it makes me a wizard," I replied.  "But I can tell you more if I know where my information will be stored."
"That's not up to you."  Rennett picked up a file that had been sitting on the table in front of me.  "Instead you're going to fill out this sheet and tell me everything I need to know about you.  And if you don't, you will never see sunlight again."
I chuckled.  "Sunlight's overrated."

Next door, a male agent was speaking with Michelle.  She observed that the room was unusually cold.
"Could you turn up the heat?  It's freezing in here."
"There's no room for a car in this room, Miss Peyton."  The male agent adjusted his wire frame glasses.  "You are Miss Michelle Peyton, of Richfield Minnesota, formerly of Diego City California?"
"Yes."
"And you are also Summer, an agent associated with Project Turbo Teen of Diego City, California."
Michelle shrugged.  "Maybe."
"If I hadn't just witnessed you transforming into a convertible, Miss Peyton, I might've assumed that the information in this file was bogus."  The agent placed the folder flat upon the table.  "My name is Tony Harris of the CIA.  At this time, I am prepared to set you free... provided you give us any information you have on your friend, Miss Simmons."
"Why are you arresting us?  You should be looking for that motorcycle girl and her twin... what's her name... Ashley and Amanda!"

In the third room, Shelly was sitting across from a female agent with long blonde hair.  "My name is Agent Sheila Martens of the CIA.  You are Shelly Starsetter, of Richfield Minnesota, correct?"
Shelly nodded.  "We reported the theft of that ruby to the local police..."
Agent Martens continued without taking into account what Shelly had just said.  "It also says in our cross reference from the FBI that you are part of a Project Siren at Chase Labs in Diego City... what, if you will, is Project Siren?"
"A top secret project,” Shelly replied politely.  “I'd rather not tell you.”
"Very well."  Agent Martens motioned to an agent in the back of the room, who placed upon the table a sealed plastic tub that had a genuine shell bra inside.  "Am I to assume then that Project Siren is some kind of well-orchestrated Little Mermaid club?"
Shelly failed to hide her nervousness.  "Not... not exactly."

Finally, in the fourth room, Collette was asking for a cigarette as the male agent began to question her.
"Collette Simmons, originally from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania... and Greatland, Oregon... and later Diego City, California... you've got a long list of known addresses."  The agent read through a thick file.  "The CIA has been looking for you for some time."
"And you've been woefully inefficient until you discovered how to disable my fucking transmission," Collette snapped.  "How many of your agents have I thwarted, huh?"
"By our count, 67."  The agent closed the file.  "Yet, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you or your counterpart... Specter is it?  Not seen you on the road thus far."  He offered a handshake.  "I consider meeting you an honor.  Agent Colt Nelson."
Collette took a drag on the cigarette, ignoring his handshake.  "Lucky you."
"As it happens, we were searching for two other individuals that have a long list of thefts almost as long as I-90..." Agent Nelson returned to the file, moving it across the table towards Collette.  "But you will probably be surprised to learn that you weren't our primary target."
"Sure," Collette muttered.
"What, did you think you were the only one that the CIA was chasing around the country?"
Collette took a slow drag and snuffed the cigarette in the ashtray.  "Made it too easy on me sometimes, especially when you folks sent that overpriced British roadster against me.  How much did the CIA lose on that project?  100 million?"

Meanwhile, I was still being questioned.  "Do you have predisposed knowledge of a black and gray 2003 Harley Davidson VRSCA V-Rod motorcycle?"
I folded my hands on the table.  "I know I saw a woman turn into one."

Michelle was also being questioned.  "Have you ever read about a woman and a watercraft in your Project Turbo Teen files?"
"Watercraft?  If you had spoken to Dr. Chase, you'd know that all he ever dealt with were cars!"

"When do you plan on growing up, Miss Starsetter?  Or did anyone ever tell you that mermaids are fantasy creatures of mythology?" Agent Martens asked.  "I had mermaid Barbie dolls when I was a kid, but I grew up."
Shelly just smiled coyly.  

Agent Nelson paced the room quietly.  "For your information, Agent Gantson has already been informed of your capture.  And they will certainly promote me for tracking your CCC radio and discovering you at long last."
"Maybe."  Collette's attitude was refreshingly calm.
"Maybe?" Agent Nelson raised an eyebrow.  "With your rap sheet, sweetheart, you'll be in prison until we're all driving flying cars around the galaxy with George Jetson."
Collette leaned forward in her chair.  "If you did your homework, sweetheart, you'd discover that most of those allegations were favors for the FBI.  The rest of them were for a good cause... and not my favorite charity, mind you."
"So that bank heist in Montgomery, Alabama wasn't for dear, sweet Mumsy?"  Nelson leaned across the table.
Collette delivered a crushing right handed blow to the agent's cheek, knocking him backwards and into the wall.  "If you ever whisper a word about my mother again, I will fucking kill you where you stand!"
The agent held his cheek warmly, his eyes narrowing.  "We shall see."

Eventually, I was brought into a large room.  It was set up like a meeting room - there were two couches and two armchairs, as well as a flat wall with a projector set up but no screen and no television equipment.  The floor was carpeted, and although the room would not be a suitable garage there was an attached bathroom with a sink.
I must've been brought to the room second, as Shelly nearly tackled me when they pushed me inside.  "Gregory!  Are you okay?"
"Fine.  You?"
She nodded.  "What do the CIA want with us?"
"I'm not sure."  I hesitated and thought a moment.  "I don't think they're even after us... well, Collette maybe."
"She's... done a few things that she hasn't been proud of, then?" Shelly slowly moved towards the nearest couch.  "What will happen to her?"
"I don't know... but I'm using my phone call on Dr. Chase."  I sat down next to Shelly and sighed as Michelle was brought into the room a moment later.
"Michelle?  Everything okay?" I asked.
She slowly made her way to the armchair and collapsed.  "They did a few electrical tests... must've changed four times in ten minutes.  I feel terrible."
"If Collette is the one they wanted, then why would they do that to you?" Shelly sounded quite furious.
Michelle shrugged slowly.  "Because they could?  They should be looking for those twins... and I'm not even sure they wanted to find Collette, honestly."
"It's ridiculous, isn't it?" Shelly looked to me for some sign of agreement.  "We reported a crime, and yet we're taken into custody?"
I nodded.  "It is ridiculous."
Our conversation was interrupted by a long steady electronic tone that resembled the bells that my high school used to signal between classes.  "I am patching through a phone call.  Feel free to speak anywhere, this room is heavily bugged and your conversation will be recorded.  Call will begin momentarily."
"Recorded?  Are they allowed to do that?" Michelle asked.
There was no response, except for a few clicks and microphone noises.  A moment later, Agent Cauldwell's voice came over the speakers.  "Mr. Claxion, Miss Starsetter, Miss Peyton.  I am on the phone with the Lieutenant Commander of the CIA and am working to secure your release.  Do not attempt to resist or escape.  Dr. Chase will be contacting you shortly.  Have they hurt any of you?"
"Cauldwell, tell Dr. Chase that we spotted a woman transforming into a motorcycle-" I began.
"We are aware of this situation, Mr. Claxion.  That is all you need know at this time."
"Need to know...?" I stood up.  "It's because of the CIA that we couldn't chase after them!  Specter was all set to fire a missile and take the ruby back... if we had been allowed to act..."
"Cauldwell!" Michelle stood up too.  "Tell them that Specter's on our side!  Everything she's done has been the right thing to do, I swear it!"
"There is a lot to sort out first..  For now, let me and my crew go to work.  You  four should be back at your hotel by sunset.  That is all."  There were a few more clicks and thumps in the speakers before it became quiet again.
Another message came over the loudspeakers, this time a different voice that sounded almost automated.  "In the meantime, please enjoy this complimentary entertainment.  Enjoy!"
The lights slowly dimmed as the projector above us activated.  A video began to play that sounded like a loyalty video, playing the national anthem.  "America is a great country, and a country is only as great as its smallest branch of government..."
"Shut it!"  I couldn't contain myself and unleashed an explosion of lighting towards the projector, causing it to shower with sparks and short out, falling from the ceiling in a crumbled heap.  I kneeled as I caught my breath.  "Where is Collette?  Keep us together or else!"
There was no response.  The lights eventually returned to their normal levels, however.  Shelly slowly approached me and put her hand on my shoulder.  "Gregory, maybe you're sending the wrong message by deep frying their projector."
Michelle chuckled before stopping herself.  I lightened, only enough to stay my anger.  Shelly always had a way of bringing me back, that's for certain.  "All the same... that Cauldwell never tells us anything useful, it seems."
About thirty seconds later, a panel in the rear of the chamber slid open and three large men with billy clubs and guns came inside.  "Don't move, none of you!"
I wouldn't have put up my hands if they ordered me to.  But I did not move, and apparently my actions were satisfactory, as two more goons deposited Collette into the room a moment later.  Both large men treated her rough, tossing her to the ground.  As quickly as they arrived, all four goons backed out through the opening, their guns drawn.  Likewise, as the panel had slid open very quickly, it closed and left no indication that there had been any opening at all.
Shelly and Michelle went to help Collette once they were gone.  "Are you okay, Collette?"
Collette slowly came around, using her hands to support herself before moving to her knees.  "I think so... what about the three of you?"
"We're fine."  Michelle and Shelly pulled Collette to her feet and helped her into one of the armchairs.  
Collette brushed her hair aside before noticing the charred projector wreckage upon the floor.  "What happened here?"  
"Didn't care for the entertainment," I muttered.

It took another twenty minutes until they came to remove us, much sooner than Cauldwell had suggested.  Though we were again blindfolded, they gave us their word - such as it was - that they would return us to the hotel.  
The ride in the sedan - or possibly a van - was as confusing as it was before, and I actually felt a needle penetrate my arm... and suddenly all the blackness beneath the hood became darker still.

I came around some time later, discovering it had been a few hours once I checked my watch and discovered that it was about a quarter to six in the evening.  Though I was on the floor in the middle of the room, Shelly had been deposited on the bed.  
Good thing.  If they mistreated Shelly....
"Fishkins, wake up."  I slowly moved to my feet, slightly dizzy from the after effects of the knockout serum they used.  Something fell to the ground when I moved, however, falling with a thud.
My Neptune pearl.  It had been laying on my back, and I bent over and pocketed it.  
"Greg?" Shelly moaned quietly.  "Is it time for breakfast?  Wait..."  She rolled over and rubbed her knees, finally seeing where she was.  "We're... back in the room?"
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She sat up and nodded.  "I feel a little dizzy, but I think I'm okay.  You?"
I nodded and checked my pockets for my cell phone, discovering that it was still with me.  Flipping it open, however, it had no power.  In fact, the battery had been removed.  "Nice."
"What?" Shelly asked.
"Check your cell."
Shelly patted her shorts and searched, finding her cell phone but, like mine, with a missing battery.  "Lovely.  What gives?"
"I think they want to control who we speak to... guess we have to give this a go."  I sat down next to the telephone in the kitchen and picked up the receiver, which began to dial automatically.  Upon closer inspection, I discovered a small plug that was connected with a pair of metal locks up against the telephone so it could not be removed without a pentagonal screwdriver.
"Greg?" Shelly asked.
"Just hang on, Fishkins."  I listened as the phone continued to hum until someone answered.   "Ah, you've awakened.  Is this Miss Starsetter or Mr. Claxion?"  
The voice belonged to a woman, and was sweet and innocent, but unfamiliar.  "To whom am I speaking?" I asked.
"Mr. Claxion, I presume.  My name is Nindi Kent, I am an operative with the CIA.  Per CIA procedure, your outside communication is to be monitored for the next 72 hours.  I have been ordered to answer any questions you may have."
"Nindi," I repeated.
"Yes, it was my great grandmother's name."
"I see.  What are the conditions of our release from the custody of the CIA?"
"You will find a packet for each of you on the counter in the kitchen of your hotel room.  It will explain a mission that you must complete in order to receive your cell phone batteries."
"I can go buy cell phone batteries, Miss Kent.  Your superiors will have to a better job than that to ensure we complete this mission of yours."
"We have, Mr. Claxion.  In each of you, there is a GPS tracking chip embedded within your skin.  At any given moment we know exactly where you are.  Should we observe you heading in a direction that does not appear to be in a direction favorable to the mission at hand, our agents will intercept you and ensure that you maintain your mission directive."
"And if I decide to locate this tracking chip and zap it into next week?"
"Should a single chip be comprised, all of you will be immediately detained and sent to a CIA holding house where you will remain until the mission is completed by our advanced operatives.  However, most of our agents are scattered throughout the country and abroad, and not known for efficiency."
I scoffed.  "That seems unlikely."
"At any rate, your freedoms will be restored to you much quicker if you complete the mission first."
"Fine, whatever.  Did you lift the CCC signal that was causing Specter and Summer's transmission to remain in neutral?  Whatever mission you expect us to complete will be far easier with their abilities intact."
"You will be pleased to learn that all exterior CCC signals have been disabled and dismantled.  Our research revealed that the signal was ineffective against our targets at large, and was only useful in bringing in the four of you to our local office."
"We weren't exactly trying to evade capture.  You may recall that we were attempting to stop the ruby thieves and your little disruptor effectively prevented that chance."
"Our communications experts discovered that fact as well, Mr. Claxion.  Though it is our mistake, it will be your job to remedy it."  She cleared her throat.  "I must insist that you actually read through the information on the counter before asking any further questions.  Also, note that when you attempt to make a phone call, you will only be allowed to make certain calls.  You can only contact the rest of your team in room 317, the front desk - in which you are forbidden to discuss the parameters of our involvement that, mind you, will result in a transfer to the CIA Holding House - and any restaurants in the North Platte area that deliver to your hotel.  Note that you are only allowed to leave the hotel for mission business only, and your destination will be recorded as we follow you with shadow agents."
"Shadow agents."  I knew they had them - that'd be the dream to be one, as they wouldn't find me if I could become invisible.  
"Any other rules can be found within the information we left you.  I must stress that you are aware of the time constraint - you have three days to complete your mission.  Good luck."  Click.
I slammed down the phone, sighed, and then picked it up again and waited for it to automatically dial the CIA center.  It didn't, instead sounding with a oddly modified tone.  Though it sounded more like someone had flattened the regular phone buzz, I dialed up room 317.
"Greg?  Where are you?" Collette asked as she answered.
"Come to our room.  We need to set up a strategy."
"Sure, but are you guys hungry?  It's been hours since we had that lunch."
Michelle's voice roared in the background.  "Stop talking about food!"
"Yeah, we're just as hungry as she is," I didn't feel like pizza right away.  "Maybe that Sartelli's place has hoagies?"