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“Scott!” Matt stood to his feet as I walked into the JJMA receptionist’s office. “Where have you been? Chris has been here over half an hour. I’ve been worried sick. That note... I was afraid something happened.” He gasped when he finally stopped to look at me. “You look awful. Are you all right? Was it the Snake?”
I’d stopped by a restroom to try to clean up a little before coming in. I had seen myself in the mirror. I looked terrible. A bruise was forming quickly on the side of my face and dirt streaked my tan pants. The paleness of my face made the bruise that much more noticeable. At least my buttoned jacket covered my bloodied t-shirt.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, forcing strength into my voice. “Where’s Chris now?”
“He got a call on his cell phone and went into Superintendent Hinkly’s office for privacy.” Matt sat back down, his eyes still glued to my bruised face. “I gave him the note already. Rest here and wait for him.”
“No, thanks.” I winced. Moving hurt. My whole body felt like one big bruise. I couldn’t bend at the waist and the act of sitting or standing hurt. “I’ll stand.”
Matt frowned at me suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll explain later.” I’d already told the police what happened fifteen times, I wanted to wait to tell Matt and Chris at the same time.
Just then, the door to Superintendent Hinkly’s office opened. Chris stepped out, looking grim. “Matt, Mr. Jackson called. Scott’s been...”
Relief flashed across his face when he noticed me standing there. He looked me over critically before continuing softly, “Both of you, come in here.”
We walked in to find Superintendent Hinkly already at his desk. The threatening note and envelope were sitting in front of him. He seemed immensely relieved to see me as well, a reaction that was not lost on Matt.
“What’s going on?” Matt exploded as soon as Chris had closed the door. “You guys keep looking at Scott like he’s a ghost. Scott looks like a ghost. Someone please explain what happened!”
“Take a seat.” Superintendent Hinkly motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “I think Scott has some explaining for all of us.”
“With your permission, sir,” I said respectfully as Matt and Chris sat down. “I’d rather stand.”
“May I ask why?” Superintendent Hinkly asked dryly.
I hesitated slightly, trying to think of the best way to explain. I decided to get right to the point. I carefully unbuttoned my jacket, removed it, and lifted the edge of my ruined shirt. Doctors don’t wrap broken ribs anymore, like they do in the movies. Redness and bruises covered the left side of my chest and stomach. An angry red scrape ran down my side where the tire iron had landed. I wouldn’t have looked nearly as bad if they had bandaged me.
“Scott!” Matt came up out of his chair with a low cry.
Superintendent Hinkly and Chris just continued to look at me grimly. Evidently, they knew the extent of my injuries as well.
“The doctor said I’ll be fine,” I assured them as I carefully replaced the jacket and buttoned it up. “Just a fractured rib, some bruised muscles, and a long scratch.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.” Chris said, a hint of anger in his voice. I was struck by how much he looked like Matt, especially when he was angry. He had the same brown hair and flashing brown eyes - and the same intense loyalty. “When Mr. Jackson told me you had been attacked, I was certain the Snake had made good his threat.”
“The letter?” Matt looked pale. He sat back down, but his hands still gripped the arms of the chair tightly. “Someone did try...”
“They tried.” I winced a little as I shifted my weight. “I’ll be fine. I’m just a little sore.”
“Start from the beginning.” Chris pulled a small notebook and pen from inside his suit coat. “What were you doing off campus anyway?”
“A friend asked me to take him to the pharmacy to pick up another asthma inhaler.” I took a deep breath without thinking. The pain in my side caused me to stop abruptly. Breathing hurt more than anything. I released it slowly before continuing, “Superintendent Hinkly gave him permission to have another student take him after lunch.”
“Permission I would not have given if I’d known about this beforehand.” Superintendent Hinkly slapped his hand down on top of the letter.
“You both know how dangerous Kestler is,” Chris reprimanded, gesturing to me with his pen. “Couldn’t someone else have taken your friend to the pharmacy?”
They were right; I had been careless. I looked at my feet. “He’s new here. I’m one of the few people he knows.”
“I could have found someone else if he had asked,” Superintendent Hinkly pointed out.
“I guess I didn’t think of that,” I said, still looking down. “Sorry.”
“It’s done now. We’ll just need to make sure you’re protected at all times.” Chris made a note in his notebook and nodded to me. “Continue.”
“One of my tires was flat, so I went to check on it while Gene - my friend - went to get his prescription.” I finally risked looking back up at Chris. “He came out and helped me. When I asked him to hand me the tire iron, he didn’t answer. I turned to see a big man holding one hand over Gene’s mouth and swinging the tire iron in his other hand.”
“Did you get a good look at the man?” Chris poised his pen over the notebook and looked at me carefully. “If we can track him down, we might find Kestler.”
“He was wearing a mask.” I shifted my weight tiredly, clenching my teeth against the growing pain as I did. I was going to have to sit down soon. “But I did see that he was a big man with sandy colored hair and a strange scar on his neck beneath his right ear. His hands were huge and he wore black leather gloves. He was strong enough to leave deep dents in my car where he hit it when he missed me.”
“Imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t missed,” Chris said softly, concern in his eyes. “You do realize he intended to kill you?”
“I know.” My grim tone matched Chris’s. “He would have, too, if it wasn’t for Gene.”
“I thought the man had Gene?” Matt spoke up, confusion his voice.
“He did.” I nodded and instantly regretted it. Nodding my head brought my headache back in force. “Sorry guys, I have to sit.” Trying to keep my back as stiff as possible to avoid bending my waist, I lowered myself into a chair. I caught my breath sharply and closed my eyes against the pain as I accidentally bumped against the arm of the chair.
Swallowing hard, I looked up at Matt’s pale, concerned face. I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine, Matt, don’t worry.”
“We can finish this later if we have to,” Superintendent Hinkly offered with a frown.
“My story’s nearly finished. I just want to get it over with so I can go to bed.” Tiredness crept into my voice as I pushed on, “I tried to pry the tire iron out of the man’s hand. That’s when he hit me with his fist... here.” I pointed to the bruise on my face. “I’d made the mistake of parking on the side of the building without windows, so no one inside could see what was happening. I knew if I couldn’t stop the guy, he’d probably kill us both. I tried to dive for his legs to knock him off balance, but he hit me in the side with the tire iron. If Gene hadn’t bit him, his next swing would probably have finished me.”
“Did either of you see where he went?” Chris asked as he scratched a few words out on the notepad.
“I was too busy trying to breathe,” I reminded him tightly. “And I think Gene was too busy worrying about me. We’re just lucky Gene didn’t have another asthma attack.”
“Can you think of anything else that might help?” Chris asked as he looked over what he had written. “Any thing you might have forgotten earlier?”
“No.” I started to shake my head, but thought better of it. “The police might be able to tell you something, if you asked them.”
“As I mentioned earlier, that call right before you came was from Mr. Jackson.” Chris closed his notepad and replaced it in his pocket. “He heard about what happened from the police. He was not thrilled you called the police instead of us.”
“With all due respect to Mr. Jackson.” I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, but failed. “You can see my condition for yourself, Chris. I didn’t call anyone. I was barely even able to stand. Gene called 911.”
“I think Mr. Jackson was more worried about you than anything else.” Chris admitted, “I know I was when he said you’d been attacked.”
“I thought about calling SATURN, honest,” I assured him. “Tell Mr. Jackson I would have if I had been able to. I had enough trouble answering the police officer’s questions about why a teen would be mugged in broad daylight. I could have used the help.”
“Agent Marshall and I already discussed what measures we should take for you boys’ protection,” Superintendent Hinkly said, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m going to increase security, especially around the dorms. When you guys leave the campus, I’ll expect you to check in and out with me personally and never go out alone.”
“What about Trinity?” Matt asked. “She lives with her family.”
Trinity’s dad was the Academy’s athletic director and football coach. She, her dad, and her grandma lived on campus in one of the school’s faculty houses.
“Coach Shiloh agreed to drive his daughter to and from class himself and to allow SATURN to post a man outside their house. If anyone sees anything suspicious, they’re to report directly to me.” Chris glanced at me. “We don’t really believe she’s the main target anyway.”
Which meant I was. Yay. Like I hadn’t already guessed that.
“What do I say to Gene?” I frowned thoughtfully and turned to Chris. “He was nearly freaking out on the way home. I’m afraid he thinks I’m a bit disaster prone.”
“Considering the fact that you do attract trouble,” Chris said lightly. “That’s probably the best thing for him to think right now.”
“Scott? Attracts trouble?” Matt scoffed sarcastically. “You mean it’s not normal for high school seniors to be attacked by crazed terrorists?”
I punched him in the shoulder and rolled my eyes. “Seniors, my friend. Plural. I seem to remember you getting involved in this mess somewhere.”
“Speaking about your friend Gene,” Chris interrupted, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “He wouldn’t happen to be Eugene Rogers, would he?”
“Actually, yes.” I looked at Matt in surprise. “Why?”
Chris laughed. “I was going to ask you two to befriend him, but it looks like you’re already ahead of me.”
I smiled back, relieved to be finished talking about the attack. Or my injuries. Or anything else about me. “He seems like a nice guy. But why the interest? Is it professional or personal?”
“A little of each, I guess,” Chris admitted, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know if Gene mentioned anything about his background or not.”
“Not much,” Matt said. “Except that things have been stressful lately. He mentioned living with his mom, which seemed to imply his parents were separated or something.”
“I tried to get him to talk about his dad on the way to the pharmacy.” I remembered the conversation with a frown. “But he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t blame him,” Chris said sympathetically. “His father’s in jail, and his mom doesn’t want anything to do with him or his dad.”
“In jail?” Matt asked, shock evident on his face. “What for?”
“Misappropriation of funds,” Chris explained. “He’s a brilliant geneticist who was working on a way to use gene therapy to prevent certain kinds of cancers. He was certain his project was nearing a breakthrough, but he couldn’t convince his corporation to increase his funding.”
“What about trying to get private donations like a fund-raiser or an online crowd funding site?” I forced myself to sit upright. If I slouched even a little, my side began to hurt more, but it was getting harder and harder not to slouch.
“He tried that, but it still wasn’t enough,” Chris acknowledged grimly. “Finally, he was approached by a man who offered to fund him entirely.”
“Something tells me there was a catch,” Matt said dryly.
“There was.” Chris nodded. “The donor wanted access to some research Dr. Rogers had done for the government. Classified stuff, beyond even my pay grade. The donor told him if he didn’t take the deal, he wouldn’t get the money, and left. Desperate, Dr. Rogers found a way to transfer funds from several of the corporation’s projects that were, in his mind, less important.”
“So what’s SATURN’s interest in this?” The strain of sitting upright was wearing on me, but I really wanted to hear the rest of the story.
“SATURN was responsible for the oversight on the classified project and Dr. Rogers agreed to help SATURN track the man that approached him in exchange for a lighter sentence.” Chris stood from his chair as if to go. “I’d just like you guys to look out for Gene, make him feel at home.”
“Before you go,” I spoke up quickly as Chris picked up the letter off Superintendent Hinkly’s desk. “Have you found any leads on where my parents are?”
“Sorry, nothing yet.” Chris shook his head seriously. “We’re following some leads, but as soon as we get something concrete, I’ll let you know.”
“It’s just... that note. If the Snake wants revenge, well, he has my parents...” I trailed off. I was hurting and tired, too tired to fight off the anger and fear that hit me when I thought about my kidnapped parents.
“Don’t worry, your parents are safe as long as they are valuable to him. Besides, Eric and Marisa are more than capable of holding their own against a second class thug like Kestler,” Chris assured me, gently laying a hand on my shoulder. “I’m honestly more concerned that he’ll try to use you to get your parents to talk. I’ll get working on this note. You rest and heal. We’ll get a lead, I promise.”
“I hope I’m there when we find the Snake.” The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Rage filled my heart. “I’ll...”
“You’ll what?” Chris interrupted sharply. His grip on my shoulder tightened and his gaze hardened. “Get revenge yourself? If you allow yourself to be eaten up with hate and vengeance, you’ll be no good to us – or your parents. Revenge only destroys the one who feeds it, I’ve seen it happen too many times at SATURN.”
“Besides, Scott,” Matt put in, concern for me in his eyes. “God tells us that vengeance is His, not ours. Didn’t you just remind me of that when I wanted to clobber Winston?”
“And what about your parents?” Superintendent Hinkly asked sternly. “Do you think they would be proud of their son allowing hate and vengeance destroy him and everyone around him?”
I’m sorry, Lord. They’re right. Help me to remember. I looked down at my hands in shame. “You’re right, guys. I guess I’m just getting tired.”
“I think Matt should help you to your room right away,” Chris said as he turned to go. “You should probably call in sick tomorrow, too.”
“Absolutely,” Superintendent Hinkly agreed. “That will give you all weekend to recover. You’re dismissed.”
“Good bye, Chris,” Matt said as he helped me out of the chair.
“Good bye, Matt. Be careful. Scott’s not the only target here.” Worry clouded Chris’s eyes. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. “Kestler and I have a bit of a history. If he wanted to find a way to get to me...” Chris frowned as he opened the door to go. “Just try to keep out of trouble for me, will you?”
Great. Matt and I both were targets. Why did the life of a secret agent look so much more fun on TV?
“Thanks, Matt.” I took a couple of steps toward the door without his aid. “I can walk all right.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Matt insisted as we entered the empty hall.
My dorm room suddenly felt miles away and after everything that had happened, I was in no mood to protest.
“Did you hear a noise?” Matt stopped and turned toward the classrooms. “I thought I heard voices.”
“All the students should be at athletic practice.” I really found it kind of hard to care what he might have heard.. “And most of the teachers are usually gone by now. It was probably nothing.”
“I heard something.” Matt stared down the hall. “Perhaps we should tell Superintendent Hinkly.”
“Or maybe we should make sure it’s not just a teacher who stayed late to grade papers.” I sighed and headed slowly down the hall. “Come on.”
“Are you sure?” Matt looked at me skeptically. “I can come back while you’re resting.”
“It will only take a minute,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I’ll be fine.”
The two of us headed down the hall, glancing in the empty classrooms for signs of life as we went.
“You were right.” I listened to the growing murmur of voices coming from the end of the hall. “It sounds like they’re coming from the Chem lab.”
“It sounds like an argument,” Matt lowered his voice as we approached the partially open door.
As we drew closer, I began to be able to understand some of the conversation.
“Where’s my homework assignment, Gene?” The question was punctuated by a dull thump. “I told you to have it for me by the time classes were over.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Gene’s voice trembled fearfully. “I was gone. I’ll have it for you tonight. I promise!”
“It’s Winston,” Matt growled.
“And he’s bullying Gene again.” I gritted my teeth against the pain and exhaustion. Rest would have to wait.