Two men brought 99 into an office. A third man sat at a desk. He smiled when he saw her. "Hello, 99, recognize me?"
She looked at him. "Peterov!"
He smiled. "Smart girl! Now, I'm going to give you a little something."
The two men held onto her strongly. From his desk, Peterov produced a syringe. When she saw this, 99 struggled, but the two men held her tightly.
"This is a new drug of our own invention. In fact, it's so new, we're not quite sure of all its effects, yet. Make it easier on yourself; tell us about Project 47."
"Never!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Your funeral!"
As the guys held her, he found a vein in her right arm. Then he quickly put the needle into it and pushed down in the syringe top. She stopped struggling.
"You may leave us now."
The two men let her go and left the room, closing the door behind them.
"The door's locked, in case you're wondering! Sit down, if you'd like. You're going to be here for a little while."
She sat down.
"You know, I really don't enjoy doing this."
"Yes, you do!"
He chuckled. "You're right!"
"I should tell you that I am a well-trained agent; I never tell my secrets."
"We shall see."
"You can put me on a rack, and I'll never tell my secrets!"
"Is that so?'
"Yeah!" She started fanning herself. "It's hot in here!"
"Yes, it is a little warm."
"'Scuse me, a moment." She took her shoes off, and then her socks. "There, tha's better." He smiled. "And tha's all I'm taking off, buster!"
"Pity!"
She got up. She walked around for a bit. Then she began dancing to unheard music.
"Care to join me?"
"No thanks. I;'ll sit this one out."
"Suit yourself."
She dance a little while longer, then she flopped back into the chair. She crossed her left foot and looked at it.
"Your floor needs a good cleaning! Here, look."
She showed him her dirty foot.
"Well, it's not often that I have people dance barefoot on it."
She laughed. "Good point!"
"And now, there's something I want to talk with you about."
"Shoot. But not literally!" She giggled.
"It's about Project 47."
"Agent 47?"
"No, PROJECT 47."
"Oh, yeah! Not sure I can tell you about it."
"Yes, you can."
"I can?"
"Absolutely."
"But you're not a CONTROL agent."
"Yes, I am."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
She thought for a bit. "You're messin' with my mind!"
"I'm merely asking for a little information."
"About what?"
"Project 47."
"Oh, yeah! I's a secret."
"A secret?"
"A BIG secret!"
"Well, you can tell your Uncle Peter."
"You're not my uncle!"
"Sure, I am."
She got up again and walked around. "If I tell you, will you promise to mop this dirty floor?"
"Right away."
"OK." She flopped back in the chair. "Project 47 is. . . Project 47 is. . . "
At that very moment, Max, the Chief, and two other agents burst into the room, guns in hands!
"Max!"
"99!"
She ran into his waiting arms.
"Are you all right?"
"He wanted me to tell him about Project 47—but I wouldn't do it!"
"99, what has he done to you?"
"He gave me a shot of something. I's messing with my mind!"
He pointed his gun at Peterov. "You bastard!"
"No, Max!," said the Chief. "He'll be dealt with."
He put his gun away and continued confronting 99."
"You'll take care of me, won't you Max?"
"Oh, yes, 99!"
Peterov was led away. Max comforted 99 a little longer, then he led her out of the room.
"You know, this floor is really dirty! You should see my feet!"
"I'll give them a nice cleaning, 99."
"Oh, Max!"
99 was taken to a hospital. After a couple days observation and tests, she was released.