Agent Matt: Academy of Shadows
Chapter 19: My Shadow, My Enemy
A few days later, matt found himself sitting opposite Korindo Ooishi in the faceless office on Orotaki Street, with Mrs. Jensen twisting another Strawberry & Cream sweet between her fingers. It was May 1, it was International Workers' Day in Japan, but somehow he knew that holidays never came to the building that called itself the Fuji TV Network. Even the spring seemed to have stopped at the window. Outside, the sun was shining. Inside, there were only shadows.
"It seems that once again we owe you a debt of thanks," Ooishi was saying.
"You don't owe me anything," Matt said. Ooishi looked genuinely puzzled. "Nonsense, you have quite possibly changed the future of this planet," he said. "Of course, Sorrows plan was monstrous, crazy. But the fact remains that his . . ." He searched for a word to describe the test-tube creations that had been sent out of Ombre Académie. ". . . his offspring could have caused a great many problems. At the very least they would have had money. God knows what they would have done had they remained undiscovered."
"What's happened to them?" Matt asked.
"We've traced all fifteen of them, and we have them under lock and key," Mrs. Jensen answered. "They were quietly arrested by the intelligence services of each country where they lived. We'll take care of them." Matt shivered. He had a feeling he knew what Mrs. Jensen had meant by those last words. And he was certain that nobody would ever see the fifteen Sorrows replicas again. "Once again, we've had to hush this up," Ooishi continued. "This whole business of ... cloning. It causes a great deal of public disquiet. Sheep are one thing-but human beings!" He coughed.
"It also seems Dr. Sorrow also did some research on advanced mutations in human cells." Mrs Jensen added. "But he gave up on the research after he found out it would benefit him, his skin cells were too human."
"If you say so." Matt said uninterested. "So what did the parents think about the school now?"
"The families involved in this business have no desire for publicity, so they won't be talking. They're just glad to have had their real sons returned to them. The same, of course, goes for you, Matt. You've already signed the Official Secrets Act. I'm sure we can trust you to be discreet." There was a moment's pause. Mrs. Jensen looked carefully at Matt. She had to admit that she was worried about him. She knew everything that had happened at Ombre Académie, how close he had come to a horrible death, only to be sent back into the academy for a second time. The boy who had come back from the French Alps was different from the one who had left. There was coldness about him, as tangible as the mountain snow.
"You did very well, Matt," she said.
"How is Dragon?" Matt asked.
"He's fine. He's still in the hospital, but the doctors say he'll make a complete recovery. We hope to have him back on operations in a few weeks."
"That's good."
"We had only one fatality in the raid on Ombre Académie. That was the man you saw falling from the roof. Dragon and another man were injured. Otherwise, it was a complete success." She paused. "Is there anything else you want to know?"
"No." Matt shook his head. He stood up. "You left me in there," he said. "I called for help and you didn't come. Sorrow was going to kill me, but you didn't care."
"That's not true, Matt." Mrs. Jensen glanced at Ooishi for support, but he didn't meet her eyes. "There were difficulties . . ."
"It doesn't matter. I just want you to know that I've had enough. I don't want to be a spy anymore, and if you ask me again, I'll refuse. I know you think you can blackmail me. But I know too much about you now, so that won't work anymore." He walked over to the door. "I used to think that being a spy would be exciting and special, like in the films. But you just used me. In a way, the two of you are as bad as Sorrow. You'll do anything to get what you want. Well, I want to go back to school. Next time, you can do it without me."
There was a long silence after Matt had left. At last Ooishi spoke.
"He'll be back," he said. Mrs. Jensen raised an eyebrow.
"You really think so?"
"He's too good at what he does-too good at the job. And it's in his blood." He stood up. "It's rather odd," he said. "Most schoolboys dream of being a spy. With Matt, we have a spy who dreams of being a schoolboy."
"Will you really use him again?" Mrs. Jensen asked.
"Of course. There was a file that came in only this morning. An interesting case. Right up his alley." He smiled. "We'll give him a few days to settle down and then we'll call him."
"He won't answer."
"We'll see," Ooishi said.
Matt walked home from the bus stop and let himself into the elegant likime house that he shared with his housekeeper and closest friend, Julie Landers. Julie knew where Matt had been and what he had been doing. But the two of them had made an agreement never to discuss his involvement with JIN 7. She didn't like it, and she worried about him. But ultimately, they both knew, there was nothing more to be said. She seemed surprised to see him.
"I thought you'd just gone out," she said.
"No."
"Did you get the message by the phone?"
"What message?"
"Mr. Saotome wants to see you this afternoon. Three o'clock at the school."
Henry Saotome was the principal at Readington. Matt wasn't surprised by the summons. Saotome was the sort of principal who managed to run a busy school and still find time to take a personal interest in every pupil there. He had been worried by Matt's long absence at the start of spring term. The fact that Matt had also missed the last two weeks of the same term had worried him more. So he had called a meeting.
"Do you want lunch?" Julie asked.
"No, thanks." Matt knew that he would have to pretend he had been ill again. Doubtless JIN 7 would produce another doctor's note in due course. But the thought of lying to his principal had spoiled his appetite. He set off an hour later, taking his bicycle, which had been returned to the house by the Tomoeda police. He cycled slowly. It was good to be back in Tomoeda, to be surrounded by normal life. He turned off the Kiamais Road and pedalled down the side road where-it felt like a month ago-he had followed the man in the white Suzuki. Suddenly he saw Sakura and Madison up ahead. He waved at them. He saw Sakura glaring at him.
"Oh, now you see us." She said furiously. Matt was stunned, he always saw them. What was Sakura on about? Madison placed a hand on Sakura's shoulder.
"It doesn't matter now, he saw us. Where you going?" she asked.
"School, the principal wants to see me."
"Good luck, with that. We'll meet you later." She said as she waved goodbye. Matt pealed on. The school loomed up ahead of him. It was empty now and would remain so until the summer term. But as Matt arrived, he saw a figure walking across the yard to the school gates and recognized Mr. Kimono, the elderly school caretaker.
"You again!"
"Hello, Burns," Matt said. That was what everyone called him.
"On your way to see Mr. Saotome?"
"Yeah." The caretaker shook his head.
"He never told me he was going to be here today. But he never tells me anything! I'm just going down to the shops. I'll be back at five to lock up, so make sure you're out by then."
"Right, Burns."
There was nobody in the school yard. It felt strange, walking across the tarmac on his own. The school seemed bigger with nobody there, the yard stretching out too far between the white washed wall buildings with the sun beating down, reflecting off the windows. Matt was dazzled. He had never seen the place so empty and so quiet. The grass on the playing fields looked almost too green. Any school without schoolchildren has its own peculiar atmosphere, and Readington was no exception. Mr. Saotome had an office in D block, which was next to the science building. Matt reached the swinging doors and opened them. The walls here would normally be covered in posters, but they had all been taken down at the end of the term. Everything was blank, off-white. There was another door open to one side. Burns had been cleaning the main laboratory. He had rested his mop and bucket to one side when he had gone to the shops-to pick up cigarettes, Matt presumed. The man had been a chain smoker all his life and Matt knew he'd die with a cigarette between his lips. Matt climbed up the stairs, his heels rapping against the stone surface. He reached a corridor-left for biology, right for physics-and continued straight ahead. A second corridor, with full-length windows on both sides, led into D block. Saotome's study was directly ahead of him. He stopped at the door, vaguely wondering if he should have dressed up for the meeting. Saotome was always snapping at boys with their shirts hanging out or at the girls for wearing inappropriate stockings. Matt was wearing a black hoodie with purple flames, T-shirt, jeans, and Adidas sneakers-the same clothes he had worn that morning at JIN 7. His hair was still flat for his liking, although he had been growing accustom to it. All in all, he still looked like a juvenile delinquent-but it was too late now. And anyway, Saotome didn't want to see him to discuss his appearance. His nonappearance at school was more to the point.
He knocked on the door.
"Come in!" a voice called.
Matt opened the door and walked into the principal's study, a cluttered room with views over the school yard. There was a desk ' piled high with papers, and a black leather chair with its back toward the door. A cabinet full of trophies stood against one wall. The others were mainly lined with books.
"You wanted to see me," Matt said.
The chair turned slowly around.
Matt froze.
It wasn't Henry Saotome sitting behind the desk.
It was himself.
He was looking at a fifteen-year-old boy with fair flat hair, Blue eyes, and a slim, pale face. The boy was even dressed identically to him. It took Matt what felt like an eternity to accept what he was seeing. He was standing in a room looking at himself sitting in a chair. The boy was him.
With just one difference.
The boy was holding a gun.
"I've been waiting for this moment," he said. Matt didn't move. He knew what he was facing and he was angry with himself for not having expected it. When he had been handcuffed at the academy, Dr. Sorrow had boasted to him that he had cloned himself sixteen times. But that morning Mrs. Jensen had traced "all fifteen of them." That left one spare-one boy waiting to take his place in the family of George Hiroku. Matt had glimpsed him while he was at the academy. Now he remembered the figure with the white mask, watching him from a window as he walked over to the ski jump. The white mask had been bandages. The new Matt had been spying on him as he recovered from the plastic surgery that had made the two of them identical. And even today there had been clues. Perhaps it had been the heat of the sun, or the fallout from his visit to JIN 7. But he had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to see them.
Julie, when he got home. "I thought you'd just gone out.''
Sakura and Madison, on his way to school. "Oh now you see us."
Burns, at the gate. "You again!" They had all thought they'd seen him. And in a sense, they had. They had seen the boy sitting opposite him. The boy who was now aiming a gun at his heart.
"You have no idea how much pleasure I'm going to get from this," the other boy said, and despite the hatred in his voice, Matt couldn't help marvelling. The voice wasn't the same as his. The boy hadn't had enough time to get it right. But otherwise he was a perfect copy. He was matt's shadow.
"What are you doing here?" Matt said. "It's all over. The Shadow Project is finished. You might as well turn yourself in. You need help."
"I need just one thing," the second Matt sneered. "I need to see you die. I'm going to shoot you. I'm going to do it now. You killed my father!"
"Your father was a test tube," Matt said. "You never had a mother or a father. You're a in the French Alps, like a cuckoo clock. What are you going to do when you've killed me? Take my place? You wouldn't last a week. You may look like me, but too many people know what Sorrow was trying to do. And I'm sorry, but you've got 'fake' written all over you. And besides I know one thing that shows that you're a fake."
"And what that be?" the boy rasped with venom. Matt pointed to his own neck.
"Right here, are the letters HS, Howard Sorrow. The man was so ignorant and full with pride he wanted to show the whole world his creation."
"Shut up! We would have had everything! We would have had the whole world!" The replica Matt almost screamed the words, and for a moment Matt thought he heard Dr. Sorrow somewhere in there, blaming him from beyond the grave. But then the creature in front of him was Dr. Sorrow... or part of him. "I don't care what happens to me," he went on, "Just so long as you're dead." The hand with the gun stretched out. The barrel was pointing at him. Matt looked the boy straight in the eyes. And he saw the hesitation. The fake Matt couldn't quite bring himself to do it. They were too similar. The same clothes, the same bodies, the same faces. For the other boy, it would be like shooting himself. Matt still hadn't closed the door. He threw himself backward, out into the corridor. At the same time, the gun went off, the bullet exploding inches above his head and crashing into the far wall. Matt hit the ground on his back and rolled out of the doorway as a second bullet slammed into the floor. And then he was running, putting as much space between himself and his double as he could. There was a third shot as he sprinted down the corridor, and the window next to him shattered, glass showering down. Matt reached the stairs and took them three at a time, afraid that he would trip and break an ankle. But then he was at the bottom, heading for the main door, swerving only when he realized that he would make too easy a target as he crossed the school yard. Instead he dived into the laboratory, almost falling headfirst over Burns' bucket and mop.
The laboratory was long and rectangular, divided into workstations with Bunsen burners, flasks, and dozens of bottles of chemicals spread out on shelves that stretched the full length of the room. There was another door at the far end. Matt dived behind the farthest desk. Would his double have seen him come in? Might he be looking for him, even now, out in the yard? Cautiously, Matt poked his head over the surface, and then ducked down as four bullets ricocheted around him, splintering the wood and smashing one of the gas pipes. Matt heard the hiss of escaping gas.
"Stop!" he yelled "The gas it's going to-" Then there was another gunshot and an explosion that hurled him backward, sprawling onto the floor. The last bullet had ignited the gas. Flames leapt up, licking at the ceiling. At the same time, the sprinkler system went off, spraying the entire room. Matt tracked back on his hands and feet, searching for shelter behind fire and water, hoping the other Matt would be blinded. His shoulders hit the far door. He scrambled to his feet. There was another shot. But then he was through-with another corridor and a second flight of stairs straight ahead. The stairs led nowhere. He was halfway up before he remembered. There was an open roof gym area, where all basket type sports were carried out. It was also used for biology and by the plant club. It had a spiral staircase leading to the roof. The school had run out of land and that they'd planned to build a roof garden. Then they'd run out of money. There were a couple of greenhouses, a couple of hoops and bleachers for observations. Nothing more. There was no way down! Matt looked over his shoulder and saw the other Matt reloading his gun, already on his way up. He had no choice. He had to continue even though he would soon be trapped. He reached the roof and slammed the door shut behind him. There was no lock, and the bleachers were all bolted into the floor. Otherwise he might be able to make a barricade. The spiral staircase was ahead of him. He ran up it without stopping, through another door and onto the roof. Matt stopped to catch his breath and see what he could do next. He was standing on a wide, flat area with a 10 foot fence running all the way around. There were half a dozen terra-cotta pots filled with earth. A few plants sprouted out, looking more dead than alive. A row of bleachers stood next to a basketball court of sorts. Matt sniffed the air. Smoke was curling up from the windows two floors below, and he realized that the sprinkler system had been unable to put out the fire. He thought of the gas, pouring into the room, and the chemicals stacked up on the shelves.
He could be standing on a time bomb! He had to find a way down. But then he heard the sound of feet on metal and realized that his double had reached the top of the spiral staircase. Matt ducked behind one of the greenhouses. The door crashed open. Smoke followed the fake Matt out onto the roof. He took a step forward. Now Matt was behind him.
"Where are you?" the fake Matt shouted. His hair was soaked and his face contorted with anger. Matt knew his moment had come. He would never have a better chance. He ran forward. The other Matt twisted around and fired. The bullet creased his shoulder, a molten sword drawn across his flesh. But a second later he had reached him, grabbing him around the neck with one hand and seizing hold of his wrist with the other, forcing the gun away. There was a huge explosion in the laboratory below and the entire building shook, but neither of the boys seemed to notice. They were locked in an embrace, two reflections that had become tangled up in the mirror, the gun over their heads, fighting for control. The flames were tearing through the building. Fed by a variety of chemicals, they burst through the floor, melting the asphalt. In the far distance, the scream of fire engines penetrated the sun-filled air. Matt pulled with all his strength, trying to bring the gun down. The other Matt clawed at him, swearing-not in English but in Afrikaans.
The end came very suddenly.
The gun twisted and fell to the ground.
One Matt lashed out; knocking the other one down, then dived for the gun.
There was another explosion, and a sheet of chemical flame leapt up. A crater had suddenly appeared in the roof, swallowing up the gun. The boy saw it too late and fell through. With a yell, he disappeared into the smoke and fire. Plunging into hell head first.
One Matt Ishida walked over to the hole and looked down.
The other Matt Ishida lay on his back, two floors below. He wasn't moving. The flames were closing in. The first fire engines had arrived at the school. A ladder slanted up toward the roof. A boy with short fair hair and brown eyes wearing a black hoodie with purple flames, T-shirt, and jeans, walked to the edge of the roof and began to climb down. Sakura and Madison hurried to the caution tape to try and see matt, they grew worried once they saw the thick black smoke.
"Matt!" sakura screamed once she saw him covered in black dust. He walked over to them almost collapsing. As he approached them, he tripped. They dove under the Caution tape and ran towards him; sakura caught him in her arms and blushed. He was coughing and bringing up dust from the explosion. "Are you ok matt?" She asked.
"Matt, why is your shoulder bleeding?" Madison screamed as she saw blood seeping from the wound. The fireman approached them and asked matt.
"What's your name son?" as matt finished coughing he said to the fireman.
"I'm Matt Ishida, who else would I be?" He smiled.