Protector Ch 14
Third door, second right, first left, third door. That was all she knew, so she walked briskly up the spider-webbed stairs, climbing quickly and with purpose. Without the rest of the crew, she wasn't as protected, wasn't as safe. Images of conspiracy ran through her suddenly paranoid mind.
First left. Zandra found herself in a dimly lit hallway, darkened sconces on the messily wallpapered walls. What kind of office building was this?
Second right. She was thankful that it was a short distance to her next upload.
Third door. For the third time Zandra's eyes began to flutter, her mind swimming with new information. Wait, there was something else that had to be done before she could go through the door. A key?
Third ceiling panel to your right, second row. Well that seemed particularly easy, Zandra thought. She jumped up and knocked out the ceiling panel, pieces of wood and dust falling slowly to the floor. There was the key, now halfway exposed on the paneling square. She jumped up and grabbed it. This wasn't so bad after all…
She inserted the key into the door and opened it, closing it behind herself. There were no more directions this time, no fluttering of the eyes, no jumbling of thoughts that made Zandra know that she was heading in the right direction. Had she gone through the wrong door after all? The key worked, so it couldn't have been. She looked around – it was a well-lit conference room with a long wooden table in front of her. There were more plants along the side of the walls. A chair was turned away from her at the end of the table, making Zandra feel uneasy.
"Ms. Richards," a voice said from behind the chair, "I'm glad you could join me."
"Neo?"
The chair turned around. "Not quite." The man sat with his legs crossed in the chair, his fingers forming a steeple resting on his thin lips. He sat immobile, stoic.
Zandra backed towards the door again, "You're an agent," she whispered to herself. Her cellphone rang, but Zandra didn't answer it. It rang incessantly as the agent got up slowly and straightened his jacket.
"Yes, I am an agent. Do you remember me?"
"My project, you were there."
"Exactly," he replied, "You are quite the scientist, Ms. Richards,"
"I just showed everyone what they can already see." Her cellphone stopped ringing.
"Well, you can word it however you want, but the fact is," he started to walk towards her, "you have potential."
Zandra was becoming afraid. She tried to open the door behind her, but it was locked. The agent smiled.
"Yes, you'll notice I put a lock on that," he said coolly, taking a step closer, "It's no use trying to get out."
"But as I was saying," he continued, taking of his sunglasses, "you have potential."
"Potential to kill you," she said back, now retreating to the other side of the table. They were now across the room from each other, Zandra matching his advances with sufficient evasions.
"Now now, let's not be hasty," he said, "There will be no killing here." He walked to the right, Zandra to the left. "At least… not from you."
"Was this a trap?" Zandra asked, trying to keep the conversation going while she formulated a plan of attack.
"Tsk, Tsk Ms. Richards, of course not. You just happened to disturb a mission of mine that I have been planning."
"A mission."
"But why waste my time," he asked, stepping onto the table between them, "I have more important things to do, Ms. Richards." The agent pulled his sunglasses back on. Zandra knew that it was almost time - she had to make her move now.
She pulled out the pistol that she had been given hours before and began to shoot. Like before, he disappeared in a blur of motion, dodging every bullet that she shot. Six left, five left, she was running out of bullets quickly. Where to go?
She was out of bullets. There were no doors around her, the ceiling was solid; it looked to her like there was no way out.
"Ms. Richards, I'm disappointed in you," he said again, pulling out his gun, "I expected much more from a lovely woman such as yourself."
And he too began to shoot. Time slowed down as Zandra began to move to the right, hoping that he would aim more for her heart. He did. They always aim right, she remembered. Everything was going so slowly, yet Zandra shouted at herself to move faster. It was like she was trying to run in water; expending all her energy but moving hardly at all. He emptied three shots at her, and all got nothing.
Faster! She yelled at herself as she moved back to the left, knowing that he would have registered her movement by now. She almost skidded as she stopped her momentum, but was able to regain her balance. Shit,
She had been hit. Not badly, but her side burned from a clip. It's not much, she thought to herself, you can still operate. The agent was out of bullets. She watched with trepidation as he got back off the table and threw his gun to the side. Zandra tensed her muscles and stood back up, the blood beginning to stain her shirt.
"Ms. Richards," the agent said in a mockingly worried voice, "I believe you've been hit."
Zandra clenched her teeth. "It's only a scratch," she replied tersely.
"But of course."
She was hiding a secret, though. She had come into the matrix with two guns, not just one. And the second one was meant for just this situation. It was hidden in her back pocket, under the fabric of her jacket - and he either neglected to observe it, or had not a clue. The agent stood across from Zandra, straightening his tie. He thought he was going in for the kill, but Zandra knew otherwise.
"I'll be sorry to see you leave," he said, cocking his head to one side, "you were entertaining, for a moment."
"I'm sorry then," Zandra replied.
He sneered and leapt towards Zandra. She knew it was coming and instantly pulled out her second gun, knowing that in the air he could not dodge. She emptied her clip on him, and he took four. His smug expression turned confused as he began to fall instead of soar. Smoke issued from her gun.
The agent fell in a heap on top of her. She recoiled in horror, afraid he was still alive. It hurt to run, but she got to the side of the room and aimed at the agent again. She shot him once more for good measure.
The agent turned a blinding white and morphed into a man about Zandra's age. He was wearing sweatpants and a jacket, headphones over his ears. Such a shame, Zandra thought, I had to kill him.
Zandra's phone rang again.
"Zandra, what the hell happened?" It was Kesia, and she sounded very nervous.
"There was an agent."
"Yeah I know that, how did he get in there? He wasn't on the coding."
"I don't know - where do I go next?"
"You should be right there."
"Ok, I'll figure it out then."
"Keep alert."
"I know."
"But when-"
The phone suddenly went dead. Zandra stood still, eyeing her phone with distrust. She knew that cellphones were the most reliable source of communication, and they didn't just go dead. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and kept her gun cocked, ready for another attack if it came.
