Prototype

by Gretchen de La O

  “Are you sure that’s him?” Roger was skeptical.

  “I would bet my life on it. I remember his picture and file. He was the one assigned to modify your prototype, he works for Spartacus Industries. He was the one that recommended Sam work with him on the project—but what’s he doing with Marshall? I need to get in closer.” I stood up. Roger pulled me down.

  “Don’t worry, I’m recording it,” he said and pointed to his eyes.

  “Well, aren’t you too far away to record their voices?” I asked.

  “I’m recording it through Marshall’s eyes.” Roger looked at me like he expected me to know this capability already existed.

  “I didn’t know we could do that,” I stammered.

  “We can’t, only I can,” he boasted.

  “So you can take over my head?” Shock radiated down to my core. Roger nodded his head. I was capsizing, drowning in the idea that he had the ability to access my deepest personal moments.

  “Have you done that to me?” I asked, not really wanting to hear his answer.

  “No, and I don’t plan on it. I wanted to secure my prototype, in case things went sour. I didn’t do it to invade anyone’s privacy.” He tried to convince me, but his words anchored one of my worst fears.

  I felt a flux of regret surge in my throat. Now more than ever, since I had this thing put in my head, I truly wanted it out. I didn’t like the idea that he had that type of access.

  Terence shook Marshall’s hand as he stood up from the table. Panic like a jagged lightning bolt radiated down my spine as I watched him leave the bar.

  “I’m going to follow him,” I choked.

  “No wait, don’t—not yet.” Roger grabbed my arm; he was looking at Marshall.

  “He’s contacting Sam using his prototype.” Roger’s mind was taken by Marshall’s actions. He mumbled as his eyes quickly bounced to different spots in the bar. I could tell he was navigating through files in his eyes and not seeing anything beyond that.

  Roger started to recite what he was hearing. “He’s telling her that she’s going to fly back to D.C. in a couple of days. He told her that she isn’t meeting Alejandro tomorrow. She’s really upset and asking why. He’s really mad at her for letting you go with Alejandro in his limo. She told him that she thinks you’re at his house.” Roger stopped reciting, his face flushed with doubt.

  “What is it, Roger? What is he saying now?” I asked pressing on his shoulder.

  “Marshall’s leaving. He told her to stay where she was, he’ll be back. He’s going to Alejandro’s house.” Roger’s eyes filled with resentment.

  “We need to stop him. He’s going to blow the whole thing. We’ve come too far to have—” Roger stopped me. He kept his hand up and turned from me. He became surly and I could feel his energy twist and turn in anger. What had he heard?

  “Roger, what did Sam say?” I asked while my heart pounded loud in my ears. He wouldn’t look at me.

  “Sam told Marshall that you were with Alejandro.” His voice broke down.

  “I was with Alejandro today,” I answered. I didn’t catch what he was alluding to. “We had dinner,” I continued.

  “No Lauren, Sam told Marshall that you had sex with him … What the hell were you thinking? I never thought of you to be someone who would jump in a man’s bed so quickly,” he chided. “I mean, really it’s none of my business what you do on your time, Lauren, but if you screw up my opportunity, I swear—”

  “Who’s opportunity? Aren’t we in this together, Roger … Don’t make this about you and your precious piece of shit in my head! How dare you assume what anyone says about me is the truth! You want to know about what I am doing … ask me, talk to me!” I hollered. I was pissed that he believed Sam and Marshall over me. He knew me better than that.

  I stood up to leave. I wasn’t going to stay and deal with his jealousy, his self-centered bullshit attitude about this technology. This wasn’t just about him or this shit in my head. He was calling me out on something I didn’t do.

  I wouldn’t call myself a prude or a wallflower. I would say that I am inexperienced. Maybe it was the fact that I was so wrapped up in being the perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect agent that I didn’t learn how to be the perfect one-night stand.

  Roger caught my arm from across the table.

  “I’m sorry, Lauren. I believe you,” he said through a deep breath that allowed his color to return to his cheeks.

  “It’s fine.” In a deep hidden corner of my heart, I was guilty of wanting his jealousy to be justified.

  We left the bar and headed back to the hotel. I decided against checking in. It was late and figured it would be safer if I just roomed with Roger in his suite with two queen beds. He claims that the hotel made a mistake and that he wasn’t supposed to have such a huge room. I think he wasn’t being all together truthful and planned it that way.

  When we got into the room, he was quick to slide out a chair and motioned for me to sit. He filled the chair opposite me. His eyes staring off, vacant of present time, he was working on his prototype.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I want you to see the recording between Marshall and Terence, without uploading it to your head,” he rambled. I was grateful. I didn’t want him rummaging through my mind.

  “I’m going to directly link you to my prototype.” He was working and talking at the same time.

  “My prototype acts as the master, while yours will be the slave—Okay, there, I’ve uploaded the file,” he informed me. “All you do now is find where it says new network connections, and open it. See that?”

  “Alright, I’m connected. There it is,” I said, dumbstruck. My eyes focused on the file and my mind went blank.

  When my vision came back, Terence was sitting right in front of me. I was in Marshall’s head. I was looking at life through his eyes. I felt his voice reverberate in my body, anxious like I had information I needed to share with Terence. I felt angry and disappointed. What was happening to me?

  “Roger! What is going on? I’m feeling pretty strange,” I tried to ask out loud.

  Suddenly I could taste beer. It washed over my taste buds as fast as I began to smell it. The pungent aroma of strong ale made me want to vomit.

  “Why do I taste beer?—Roger!” I was irritated.

  “That is the side effect of being in someone else’s head. Not only will you see what they see, you will taste, hear, smell and feel what they do. The only problem is your traits mix with theirs. That’s why you feel sick at the taste of the beer. He likes it; you don’t,” he told me comfortably. It gives a whole new meaning to, ‘getting into someone’s head.’

  I kept tasting the beer and feeling anxious. Being in someone’s experience wasn’t very comfortable, at least to me. Marshall was blunt and to the point when he addressed Terence.

  “Terence. Thank you for meeting me—please sit.” Marshall swung his hand to a chair pushed out far enough for Terence to sit down. “I don’t know how much time we have. So I wanted to get right to the point. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Terence swung the chair around backward in one motion. His giant legs straddled it as his dark shining arms folded, resting on the back, swallowing it up as he sat. His shirt pulled from the collar across his chest and around his biceps. I could feel the insecurity in Marshall’s body.

  “I need you to help me out with Sam. I know you’ve worked with her at Spartacus Industries.” Marshall kept his words convoluted trying to find a weak spot to push his agenda.

  “Yeah, well just cuz I worked wit’ her at SI don’t mean I’m interested in helpin’ you out,” Terence said. Whether he meant to be or not, he was really intimidating. I think my fears mixed well with Marshall’s in this instance. Both of our hearts were pounding.

  “Hey, no disrespect intended. I just thought if you could help me with something, then maybe I could help you back,” he pushed. “I figured we could do each other a favor. You help me with Sam and, well
, I help you with your brother.” I felt sweat beads form on my, Marshall’s forehead. He was pulling out all the stops in hopes of manipulating Terence.

  “Wha-chu think you know ‘bout my life or my brother’s?” His eyes filled with angst, narrowed and pinned. He cocked his head to the side and flicked his hand toward Marshall as he spoke. “You know nothin’.” Terence stared him down. “You know nothin’.”

  Marshall responded in a calm voice. The same voice that used to give me chills.

  “I know that your brother has a third strike against him― possession of a concealed weapon. Isn’t that life in prison? Well, it would be a shame if you knew of a way to save him and you chose to ignore it.” Marshall leaned back in his chair and I felt it press into my back. It was creepy, I couldn’t get used to it.

  Terence looked straight through Marshall’s soul. Of course I was looking into his. I could tell his back was against the wall. His eyes widened and his arm muscles twitched.

  “Wha-cha goin’ to do for my brother? You tell me that! Then we’ll talk business.” Terence was trying to play hardball. What he didn’t know was that Marshall was the master of ultimatums.

  “Well, Terence. First he is going to need a great lawyer; I have the best money can buy. Then he will need to get lucky with which judge hears his case. That’s really important. I hear that Judge Blankenship is the one he’ll want to get. Judge Blankenship owes me a favor. Do you get the idea?” Marshall roused him.

  “I get the idea. Wha-chu want me to do?” I saw the injustice of his situation own his body. His head swung, broad shoulders curled in, and his face winced as Marshall’s words hurt like the sting of a whip against his back. I could tell he was an honest, hardworking man that had the unfortunate luck of having a criminal for a brother.

  Marshall leaned in toward the middle of the table, closer to Terence. Terence didn’t move. He just looked at him, waiting for the demands that would be thrust upon him to save his sorry excuse for a brother, one more time. He knew getting his brother off on a third strike would be near impossible so the trade was going to be something huge involving Samantha.

  “I need you to pick up Samantha from the hotel tomorrow morning, six thirty sharp. You need to take her to the airport. Make sure she gets on the next flight out to D.C.” Marshall wasn’t real clear on what he wanted him to do. Terence wasn’t convinced that that was the end of it. The mistrust swirled in his earth brown eyes. His shoulders bearing the burden of what he thought was the only way to save his brother’s life. Knowing there was more to the request from Marshall, he pressed. “Once she’s on the plane, what then?”

  “Well, then you come back to me and we discuss options for your brother,” Marshall answered Terence. My throat burnt as Marshall took a huge swig of the nauseating beer again.

  “I wanna know wha-chu’ playin’ me for? I don’t trust you. I know you’re holdin’ back. Give me respect enough to come out with it.” He pushed up from the chair. I was staring Terence in the eye through Marshall. That’s when I felt the words bounce out of his mouth.

  “I need you to extricate Samantha’s prototype.” I felt the pressure leave my chest as he said it.

  I could see the wheels in Terence’s head start to spin. He was really contemplating Marshall’s request before he answered.

  “Why can’t you just do it? You’re smart enough,” Terence stated.

  “I need someone who knows how to leave no trace of it. I figure you’re a software programmer and she wouldn’t think anything about it. She trusts you. I can tell she doesn’t trust me anymore,” he rambled.

  “Do you blame her?” Terence asked as he lowered his body on the chair that was swallowed by his enormity. “If I do this, you’ll call your judge and make the charges against my brother disappear, right?” he questioned in a firm tone. Marshall nodded. I felt like a puppet. I didn’t have to wait long for the pull of the strings attached to my arm to reach over and shake Terence’s hand that impatiently waited for Marshall. They shook hands and Terence was gone.

  The recording stopped and I was back in Roger’s hotel room. I took a deep cleansing breath. I was physically exhausted and mentally beat, let down by my expectations surrounding Terence. I really wanted him to fight harder for his moral being. I didn’t want him to give in so casually to Marshall, except I had more to think about than just that. Sam has been nothing but a thorn in my side since I’ve learned of her existence, and even though I should hate her for what she has done, she was in trouble. No matter what, we had a strange bond, a connection if you will. We were the only two women in existence to have the prototype installed. At least I had one ace in the hole—Roger. Nobody knew he was alive.

  Sleep had found me fast, fortunately, and so did my desires for Alejandro. He pushed his lips to mine and it felt like a sunny day filled with an afternoon breeze tickling across my skin. Goosebumps scattered across my flesh, telling the world I wanted more. His fervent green eyes and the sprinkle of his five o’clock shadow caroused to every part of my body that needed him. His tongue tangled with mine and his thick, strong fingers twisted into the tresses of my hair, causing every piece of lonely I ever owned to become nothing more than the dust under my past experiences. He was perfect, and I wanted to live in his perfection. He pulled back from our kiss, written on his face was every desire I had that ached for him to fulfill. His mouth brushed across my neck and up to the sacred space behind my ear. Sparks rushed through my body and pooled between my legs; God, I craved for him to find each and every one of them. His tongue leisurely swirled around my earlobe before he let out a moan mirrored by his hips swaying against me. I was going to explode …

  The alarm clock belched at five thirty in the morning and I was awake at once. Heartless enough to rip me from my fantasy of Alejandro, I hated my alarm clock. I didn’t remember falling asleep. All I had was the memory of Terence trading his morality for the freedom of his brother. What choice did I have to change that experience? I had two options: either I was going to Spartacus Industries today to meet with Alejandro and show him the prototype; or I was going to get the file off the mainframe and destroy it. No matter how Alejandro made me feel, it was at that point I had to make the choice to be the agent I knew I could be. I needed to stop Terence from getting to Sam before he sent her off on an airplane.

  I pulled the blankets off and embarrassingly I had spent another night in my clothes. I was grateful for the fact that Roger ordered something to eat.

  “Good morning, I hope you don’t mind I ordered you room service.”

  “Good morning,” I replied in a rough voice. I tried to make eye contact but he was too busy readying his scrambled eggs and potatoes.

  “Well, Lauren today is the big day,” he said in a way that had made my skin clammy. I had conceded to the fact that it was the day that I was going to find out what I was made of. I knew Roger was thinking about the options of the day while I was thinking how I was going to control the desires that surged through my body when I was in the presence of Alejandro.

  “Yeah, what are we going to do about Sam?” I asked, pulling the thoughts of what I lived through last night over my preoccupied mind belonging to Alejandro.

  “I need to stop Terence from getting to Sam,” Roger breathed. “We both need to stop Terence from getting to Sam,” I told him. I wasn’t about to let Roger handle this without backup. We didn’t know Terence and seeing what I saw last night, I wasn’t about to let Roger take any chances alone with him.

  “Lauren, Alejandro is expecting you to be ready by seven this mornin’. I’ll be fine,” he reassured me, making our eyes meet and shaking his head. I didn’t like the idea that he would be dealing with Terence without some type of backup.

  Roger wasn’t a field agent. He was a weapons engineer in a highly restricted department of the CIA. There weren’t too many people at the agency able to do what he did. I had to let go, trust and believe he could handle this type of work.

  “Fine, but once you have
her safe I’m going to need you at SI. I can’t do this without your help,” I said.

  “I’ll make sure I’m with you. I’ll keep connected to you the entire time,” he stated with a firm voice, making me understand that he really did have the ability to live in my head if he wanted to.

  I immediately backpedaled my demands. “I don’t think you’ll need to do that the entire time. I’ll connect with you once I am in the server room at SI.” I scrunched my hair back onto a messy ponytail.

  “What if something happens between the time you leave here and reach SI? I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” His voice sounded just like my father when I would ask if I could stay out an hour past curfew on a Saturday night.

  “Nothing’s going to happen. Even if Marshall shows up, I’ll make sure I’m safe. Besides, you’re going to need to focus on Terence.” I was trying to facilitate a conversation that I should’ve been able to control.

  “I’m not comfortable with that. You need to—”

  “No, Roger, stay out of my head until I say,” I demanded as I interrupted him. His head swung toward the floor and a dark cloud consumed him.

  “Fine—but I’m not happy about it,” he complained.

  “I can’t focus on the job if my mind is clouded with thoughts of you invading me. Promise to stay out of my head,” I told him. I had to make sure he wouldn’t get into my head until I wanted him to be there.

  “Promise,” he agreed. We finished eating in silence. “Well, I need to get moving, so you know how to contact me.” He paused then finished. “Your gun and a couple of knives were the only weapons they forwarded. Just be careful. If I don’t hear from you by nine—well you know what I can do.”

  He snatched up his CIA-issued pistol, forcing it into his shoulder holster and walked out the door. I hated when Roger would do that. Not giving me the last word really pissed me off, but today the fact that he had a gun just flat out concerned me.

  I didn’t realize that six thirty could creep up on me so quickly. I had to be down in the lobby in thirty minutes. I prided myself on the fact that I could get ready to go within a half hour. Today, I was stuck in a rut of trying to find a shirt that had the right amount of cling that would accentuate my curves to hold Alejandro’s eyes. I knew what I was doing and as much as I knew it was totally crazy, I couldn’t seem to stop myself.