Chapter 14

Chad sat at the head of the meeting table with his arms folded on the table. His head was cradled in his folded arms moments earlier, but now his head was up, facing the front, mouth twisted open in a horrified look.

Herbert, Number 65.3, was seated next to Chad with a frightened look on his face. Number 86 was seated with her arms crossed, slightly shaking her head, Number 362 was seated at the table with a nervous smile and Number 60 was leaning back in a chair, hands folded behind his ski-capped head and boots on the table, with a large smile of approval.

Number 1 stood at the opposite end of the table, arms folded and glaring critically through his black shades at the group at the opposite end.

They had just finished the debriefing of the previous night's exploits at the Tasty Taste Ice Cream Factory.

"Well…" Number 274 said at last, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the room moments before, "At least you didn't get caught."

"We were never in a position to get caught!" Number 1 snapped back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Number 1; I was only referencing the news report on Local Channel 31!" Chad responded, waving towards a glaring Number 86, "I think our Tactics Department could have been in a compromising situation if anyone had gotten killed. We're lucky there weren't any video cameras either."

"They would not have put surveillance equipment in an ice cream factory," Number 1 said sarcastically, "Besides; these top secret meetings that are taking place are certainly deterrent enough for any type of surveillance. I saw the same report and they are chalking it up to an equipment malfunction that caused the fire, nothing more. There hasn't been any chatter about any suspects on the secret radio frequency either, if memory serves me, they don't have a clue."

Chad waved his hand, scoffing, and spun his chair around to face Number 362 and asked her about the amount of information that Sector V had gathered.

"It seems like we have quite a bit to go on now," Rachel responded with a broad smile, "I'm very curious to know what will happen at Morgan and Brothers Shipping Company, I'll need to look more into that, plus we need to I.D. this cigar smoking man. We really needed that info grab, Number 274."

Nigel peered over his shades at Chad with a smug look.

Chad didn't bat an eye and didn't look at Nigel in return, "Was it worth destroying the factory to get?"

"Well," Rachel whispered, turning pink, "I don't think the factory was destroyed, but there's no need to be overly reckless if that's what you mean. Sector V probably could have been a little more careful."

Chad spun around with a smug smile towards Nigel, his blond hair falling in his eyes proudly.

Number 60 reached around from his head and gave Nigel a "thumbs up" without saying anything. Number 86 glared at Number 60 for encouraging such wanton destruction; Patton responded with a wink.

"Number 362," Chad said with a start, "I guess you'll need to get a head start on that information if we are going to make any progress. Number 1, I need you to collaborate with Sector V on designing a home base of operations. Number 65.3 has an address for you of a house that we have secured that you can use. I don't particularly care how you decided to outfit it, but keep it low profile. We need a place where you can compile your information, store your weapons, vehicles, etc. That will be your next mission while 362 sifts through the new Intel."

Number 1 nodded in agreement and as the rest of the officers filed out, he got the specifications from Herbert. Number 2 had already spent some time plotting for a base of operations. Number 2 wanted to build on to the new Sector V base in such a way that each operative would have their own wing; they would be able to use it as housing after the school year if they wanted to. Number 1 wasn't sure how it would all turn out since Number 2's blueprints included a lot of handmade additions, boat shells, cars, and truck trailers.

Number 274 comically referred to the new Sector base as "tree houses" because of the old cliché of kid's clubs and tree houses, but the true idea had come from Mr. Frosty. If the enemy had way stations where they could meet, stock supplies, and use as a home base of operations, it made sense that the KCD should have them as well. Second, those Mr. Frosty locations were spread out among the neighborhoods; bases hidden in plain sight, it was simple and genius.

Number 1 turned the lights out as he left; taking everything Number 274 said with a grain of salt.

Nigel woke up in his dorm room; the sun hadn't quite caught up because it was still dark. He worked through his morning exercise routine and read a few more pages of his textbooks. He looked over and noticed that Number 2 was still sleeping soundly in his bed and snoring loudly. It was only the next day after the Tasty Taste Ice Cream Factory, so there wasn't much to do. It seemed like a constant juggling act between college classes and the work that the KCD demanded of them so progress, although prominent when it occurred, was always quite slow. They had all learned to take the breaks when they came because when it was fast, it was demanding.

Nigel quietly left the dorm room and started walking to the nearest main street for a walk around the block. He found himself wishing that there would be a breakthrough in the information so that they could proceed with their mission. The rest of Sector V had been granted a shore leave in the meantime and they had made plans to take full advantage.

He continued away from the college into a neighborhood where the new Sector V tree house was located as his thoughts continued to tumble through his mind. Nigel loved the thrill of the mission and the satisfaction of victory; shore leave meant nothing to him. His life in and out of college was akin to constant shore leave. Even though his classes were interesting and enjoyable, the rest of college was boring. It was the constant campus talk of each previous night's revelries and the pursuit of destructive habits that left Nigel numb when it came to the conversation of his fellow classmates. The more time that Nigel had spent with Lizzie, the more he noticed that the college arena seemed to be what Lizzie enjoyed the most. He feared that maybe she enjoyed it too much and that she might be involved in something that was detrimental, or that her classes were suffering. Yet, that was not the side of the conversation that Lizzie wanted to spend time with. Instead, their conversations were spent with the usual stuff, romantic and otherwise, ranging from the present day plans to future plans. Nigel just wished that their conversation was a little more personal when it came to struggles because he wanted the best for Lizzie. Lizzie Devine was always assuming what struggles Nigel was going through and tried to fix them, regardless of what Nigel tried to tell her.

Nigel continued down the sidewalk until he came to the house that was designated as the tree house for Sector V. It was a plain house with a giant tree in the back yard, upon closer inspection there were large additions from Number 2, including shipping containers, boat shells and train cars that had been delivered, but not yet in their proper places. Oddly enough, the entire setup didn't look very conspicuous from the road, the giant tree limbs covered up a lot of the add-ons.

Nigel walked up to the mailbox and pulled the lid open. He slid it underneath the mailbox and retrieved it again; this time revealing a keypad. He punched in his key code and the front door popped open. The house had been gutted and opened up into a large room; transformed into a meeting area with computers and desk space lining the walls. In the middle of the room was a lowered level with a projector in the middle. At the back of the room was a staircase heading to the upper floor and a back door. Towards the front of the room was a make shift stage with a podium that Number 1 could use to address the team. Nigel also noticed that there was a giant "KND" in spray paint on the wall behind it.

Nigel stared at the giant letters in bewilderment. What was KND supposed to stand for? Maybe Number 2 had meant to put KCD? There was never a straight answer from the officers as to what the official name of the organization was and so operatives were constantly making names up and getting the temporary name confused.

The rest of the house had continued upwards into two other floors, within the protective branches of the giant tree in the backyard, each operative had their own wing to use as their own private quarters, while the main part of the house stood as mission control and included a room dedicated to surveillance and communications. In the main hall there were power tools, paint buckets, and blueprints as it was obvious they had only gotten a day's worth of work in, but a day's work nonetheless.

There was no movement inside of the tree house. It sat still, waiting for action…waiting to be called upon for service…waiting to be wanted.

He sighed and walked across the empty floor, his combat boots were dropping heavily on the wooden floor. He walked into the communication room and perused over the vast amount of computer screens and checked to see if any information had been transmitted to the tree house from the HQ.

There was nothing, they hadn't been wired up yet.

Nigel, hands folded behind his back, turned and stared at the empty room through his black shades. His mind wandered back to the day when Rachel McKenzie had asked him if he wanted to take that leap of faith. He remembered the day when the sun sparkled in her eyes as she excitedly and mysteriously unspun the story regarding all the breadcrumbs that she had found that were connected to this whole conspiracy.

She had certainly nailed it right on the head. There had been a string of seedy surveillances and a web of information that was leading them closer and closer to the cigar smoking man that they had discovered and what his purposes were. What was he doing with all of that information?

Nigel checked his watch and considered walking to the Sprinkle Puff Donut Shop. There was always the possibility that someone would be there. Number 274 would most likely be there and Nigel figured he could probably pick a fight.

Nigel turned and started walking out of the tree house, excited about seeing it up and running. He was very proud of his team and their accomplishments. They had worked hard to where they were and had done so with little complaining. They worked well, got along well and were closer to each other than they were with anyone else at college. Nigel always enjoyed bumping into them in the hallways at Gallagher and chit-chatting in code about what no one else knew; their double lives as espionage agents. While the rest of the college went about their business, never making the connection, these seemingly unimportant five students were connected in a way that couldn't be described.

Nigel locked up the tree house and started walking back the college. There was a roadster, similar to Rachel's, that Sector V shared. He knew that the rest of Sector V wouldn't be using it, so it would be fine to take to the Donut Shop.

Number 2 had cut the trunk lid of Rachel's roadster so that it was would slide open from side to side and a small jet engine would emerge when a button was pushed. He also constructed wings out of surf boards that would spring out from each wheel, between the tire and the fender, when the jet engine was activated. Number 2 presented it to Rachel as the R.O.A.D.S.T.E.R., giving it a typical "2 X 4" acronym that made sense only to Number 2. The purpose of this add-on was to allow the R.O.A.D.S.T.E.R. to fly in case of emergencies, much to the joy of Number 362. Soon, this vehicle was duplicated so that they could be used as standard transportation for operatives during the day and, when emergencies dictated, could be flown.

Nigel found Sector V's R.O.A.D.S.T.E.R. in the parking lot of his dorm and climbed inside. What Number 2 had done to refurbish it was artistic to say the least, trying to keep every part "period correct". He certainly was the mechanical genius. He was constantly coming up with ideas for new technology, which he loving referred to as "2 X 4" technology. He coined the name because all of his inventions were handmade and created by whatever he could procure from the local scrap yard, which was quite a bit. He was always down there sifting through the scrap metal and dickering with the guy in charge. Nigel figured the guy in charge was just relieved to have someone who would buy his garbage.

Nigel's phone rang as he drove to the Donut Shop.

It was Lizzie.

"Hi babe!" he answered cheerfully, "What's going on?"
"Hi Nigh-gey!" came the babyish response, "It's Saturday!"
"Yes it is!" Nigel mused, frightened that maybe he had forgotten some plans that they had made.

"I wanted you to know that I had planned to hang out with some of my girlfriends today so if you wanted to do some stuff with Hoakie or your dumb little group, you could."

Nigel felt his heart slow in relief.

"Oh sure!" he said, "I think I'll do that or maybe study, it depends on what happens with the KCD."

"Oh Nigh-gey," Lizzie cooed, "You're so cute…"

Nigel felt his heart flutter.

"Ok Lizzie, well, have fun...oh…where will you be in case I need to get a hold of you or there is some sort of emergency?"

There was a slight silence.

"Well…" Lizzie droned on, "Actually we're going to be at the pre-game celebration at the Kappa House. The football team is throwing a huge party and we're going to go, hang out, and make some decorations and T-shirts for the game. I'll make you one too for when we go to the game. I'll just make an extra girl's shirt since you're basically the same size."

Nigel wasn't sure how to take that, "Ok, sounds good, thanks, love you!"

He snapped the phone shut and floored the R.O.A.D.S.T.E.R., the engine roared as it kicked up and sped down the road. Nigel had set the convertible top down and was letting the wind blow across his bald scalp, his dark shades blocking the beaming sun as it was rising up over the rooftops of the buildings. It was a day to enjoy freedom to its fullest.

When he got to the Donut Shop, he parked the R.O.A.D.S.T.E.R. next to the bank that was next door. They had decided to park vehicles in the parking lot next door so that it wouldn't appear that anyone was inside the Donut Shop. There were a few more cars parked there as well indicating that there were some operatives that were inside, but not the Jeep that Chad drove. Nigel was a little disappointed that Chad wouldn't be inside to pick on, but there was always the probability that Number 65.3 would be….and he was always available to pick on.

Nigel walked in and headed down the small and dimly lit stairwell. He typed in his operative password and the door slid open.