Hey again. I finally found some more time to write. Everyone else is asleep, so I'm keeping watch.
Anyway, back to the story. We crept through the air ducts (hello, stereotypical) peering through air vents until we found an empty room with a computer in it. We can't do this without Fang and the guys; we were planning on sending an email to his blog. He has a laptop (not so legally acquired) that he checks his blog and email on.
We dropped in from the vent and Nudge, the talented little girl she is, logged us on and got to an email server. We composed an email to Fang, telling him where we are and that he needs to come quickly. When we pressed send, the screen switched to the same blonde woman that was on the TV's earlier.
"Very good, Max. You got further than I thought you would. I should have given you more credit." I was speechless. After a little more freakiness (i.e. her seeing gestures I was making to my flock behind my back) I looked up to find the ceiling covered with silent Flyboys. Oh joy.
We fought, but after we took down about six the other, like, eighty had us cuffed and shackled. They took us to the director's office. I was thinking, "Finally, we get to see the twisted man who is behind all of this craziness."
After a short wait, the same blonde woman walked in, trailed by more whitecoats, our term for the scientists. She introduced herself as Marian Janssen, Director of Itex. I was shocked that the head of this destruction was a woman. The next thing she said made my head reel.
"Not only am I that, but I am your mother, Max."
Um, excuse me, WHAT??? My mother? My mother is a genocidal maniac, possibly the next Hitler-Stalin, just about ten bazillion times worse. Oh my gosh. Of course, I went into "smart retort autopilot," which did nothing but get us in trouble. Trouble meaning chained in a dark dungeon, i.e. where we are now. There are loudspeakers on all the walls, playing Marian Janssen's message (I refuse to call her, "Mom").
Shoot, more footsteps. I'll write when they leave.
-Max