Felicity sat on Cooper's bed; she was typing furiously, her hair a black curtain covering her face from view of Myron. After her boyfriend Cooper was arrested, she became paranoid that she wasn't covering her tracks well enough. She kept thinking her and Myron would be next if they left any sort of bread crumb to follow. Yet, Myron and Felicity continued with their hacking profession rather than lay low for a while. After all, it wasn't a very easy hobby to break.
"Weren't you going to go see Cooper today?" Myron asked, looking at the watch on his wrist.
Felicity looked up briefly, then back to her screen, "I'm still going, if you want to come."
"You wouldn't mind?" He sounded skeptical.
Felicity shrugged, she really did mind, she wasn't going to say anything, though. She and Myron were graduating in a week in a half, and then she was leaving Massachusetts, Cooper, and Myron behind. Fresh start.
"Then we better leave now," he stood and stretched his back.
Felicity reluctantly closed her laptop and draped her feet over the side of the bed; she leaned over, her hair falling forward blocking her line of sight, she tried, and failed, to tuck it behind her ear before pulling on her black combat boots.
Felicity and Myron left his dorm and headed towards the parking lot side by side. Felicity swore she could feel eyes on her, she felt like that a lot, though. She glanced around the parking lot like a child who'd just stolen something. Her eyes found a large man; he was leaning against a wall with a slight smirk playing across his lips. He was watching them.
"Myron, that guy is watching us," she whispered, she tried not moving her lips as she talked. Felicity felt him stiffen; he glanced over and sucked in a breath.
"Don't worry about it," he mumbled.
"Don't worry about it? Are you kidding? This is exactly how it happens in the movies, and you know it. We're going to go to jail," she was mumbling so fast and frantically she thought she might pass out. Myron didn't respond, he kept his sights set on his car. It took everything in Felicity to not sprint the last few feet to Myron's car. To her relief Myron unlocked the doors and she hopped in. Her nerves were stirring up inside her, threatening to boil over. She glanced out the window; the man wasn't leaning against the wall anymore, he was getting in a black SUV.
"Myron. Myron, he's going to follow us."
"He won't," Myron said as he put the car into gear. Felicity could hear the uncertainty coating his voice
"Myron, look at his car. Oh my God, Myron, he's FBI. Or CSI. Some type of 'I'. That's the exact type of SUV that those men have. Every action movie has those SUV's-"
"Felicity. Stop. I swear to God, stop talking. He won't follow us." If Myron was trying to calm her, he was doing very poorly.
Felicity sat back against the seat stiffly and yanked on her seat belt. Myron pulled out of the parking lot, Felicity wondered if he was even breathing. She wasn't. She had her eyes trained on the side-view mirror as she absently chipped off her black nail polish. Just as she was thinking she might just be paranoid, the black car pulled out of the parking lot and right behind them.
"Myron," Felicity whisper-yelled, her eyes still glued on the dark figure moving slowly behind them.
"I know," he sounded hysterical, which added to the panic building into her chest. Myron never acted agitated.
"Take this right," Felicity commanded. He put on the blinker and turned. So did the SUV. "Take the next right, too." He did. So did the SUV. "Take the next right," Felicity kept her eyes on the mirror, waiting, hoping, the man would chose a different road. He didn't.
"Maybe I should go left," Myron suggested. His fingers were drumming on the steering wheel, a nervous tick.
"No. Take another right." Felicity's foot was tapping in anticipation. Myron obeyed her. The SUV soon followed. She cursed under her breath. "Go to a grocery store or something."
"What was the point of that, exactly?"
"To find out if he was really following us or not."
"We still don't know if we're being followed followed."
"What is your definition of being followed? He followed us in a complete circle, therefore he's following us, Myron," she snapped.
"Now what?"
She glanced back at the SUV and sighed, "We can't go see Cooper. I mean we could, I really miss him. I want to see him. So badly. I miss touching him-" Myron groaned, "Sorry. I just miss him. You miss him, too, but we shouldn't go see him. But wait, what if this is the last time either of us will be able to see him? I mean, we're both going to graduate and move on from MIT, but we could both be going to jail and this may be our last chance. Or my chance at least. You'd be in jail with him. And then I'd be alone." Rambling was her nervous tick. "Let's go back to the dorms."
They drove back to the campuses, they weren't followed this time. But Felicity thought it was probably a false sense of security, so when she got out of the car she looked around the parking lot. Not many students at MIT had extraordinarily nice cars. And they certainly didn't get them over night. So, seeing two shiny black cars freaked her out even more.
"The cars, Myron. The cars," she hissed under her breath.
"They're just cars, Felicity."
They walked tensely back to his dorm. As soon as the door shut behind them Felicity crawled back into Cooper's bed and fell asleep. She didn't expect Myron to wake her up a few hours later and tell her to leave. Myron practically slammed the door in her face; Felicity was frozen in place outside the door for a moment. Felicity wanted to punch Myron. How could he kick her out while she was scared shitless? Felicity walked skittishly down the hallways, she hung her head and let her black hair shield her face, not making eye contact with anyone she passed.
She walked into her dark dorm room; her roommate was never there, she was always off campus getting drunk, or high, or whatever she felt like doing that day. And Felicity was usually happy to find her dorm empty, but not today. Not when a stealthy man seemed to be following her every move.
She sat on her bed and set her laptop next to her. She should have stopped as soon as Cooper was caught, she knows that now. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She was going to jail. It was a concept she couldn't grasp. A knock on her door turned her thoughts from depressed to panicked in a record two seconds.
She didn't move, she didn't breathe. It's happening right now, she thought. Slowly she pulled out her phone and called Myron.
He answered on the second ring, "What?" he sounded distracted.
"Are you here? At my dorm?" She hoped she was being quiet, hoped that the panic didn't make her voice loud, hoped he was the one at her door.
"No. Why? What's wrong?"
A second knock.
"Someone's here," she murmured as she tiptoed to her door.
"You're roommates probably just drunk and forgot her keys. You're paranoid," he said with a sort of calmness that pissed her off.
"It's not being paranoid if someone's really out to get you." Felicity ended the call and shoved the phone into her jean pocket. Myron obviously didn't care whether his two best friends ended up in jail or not, just as long as he was left alone.
Just as Felicity was nearing the peep hole a woman's voice sounded from the other side of the door, "Ms. Smoak, I know you're in your dorm. I watched you walk in."
The fight or flight moment had come at last.
And Felicity chose flight.
She backed away from the doorway; her eyes scanned the dorm room frantically. The window. She sprinted over to it, and, as quietly as she could, opened it, then kicked out the screen. She was halfway out the window when she realized a man was outside. He was wearing a black suit; Felicity's first thought was the secret service.
He looked entertained at her attempt to flee, "She didn't think you'd run." He gave her a look that said if she wasn't going to crawl back the way she came, he'd push her. "I was really hoping you wouldn't run."
She gritted her teeth, glancing over her shoulder, and then reluctantly climbed back through the window, "Sorry to inconvenience you."
He climbs in after her, but with less grace, not that Felicity demonstrated much grace either.
She stood and walked a few feet away from him; she noticed that it was a different man from earlier today. He strides towards her, and roughly grips her upper arm, "You're not a biter, right? You seem like the type. Bet you gave your dentist hell."
Felicity scowled at the man, not only for his small talk, but because he was digging his fingers into her flesh. "I can walk myself, thanks," she snapped, and yanked her arm free.
He corralled her to the door, Felicity stood with her head held high, jaw locked and eyes narrowed in on the man, she looked calm, but she could feel herself about to throw up. He walked over to the door so slowly Felicity thought she'd explode, finally the man opened it. Felicity held her breath when the woman walked in; her hair was back in a tight bun, her eyes hard and unnerving, her back straight, power radiated off her in waves. Felicity could tell she held authority. She held herself the way woman with power do, she was intimidating.
When she spoke it was with a calm, arrogant voice, "My name is Amanda Waller, Ms. Smoak. We have a lot to discuss."