Compartmentalization (Part 10)

Part 10: Debriefing

“It was a set up!” I proudly proclaim to Maxwell.

    “Well, yes, but please, there is a process to these things,” Maxwell says. I reluctantly sit down at the too-white table in the meeting room above Maxwell’s office and look at him.

    “Congratulations on your mission success! You all did a fantastic job. I know that it may have been unorthodox to send three of you to a single site, but I hope you all realize how important team work is through this experience,” Maxwell says over the rolling eyes of Kate and Ken, “Now let’s hear the progress report, and let’s start with…Kate.”

    I supposed he was starting with Kate because she would demonstrate how ‘progress reports’ are supposed to be done, but I felt like he was just starting with her to show me that I am not the running the show here.

    Kate stood up and started in a professional sounding voice, “We entered the warehouse at 1700 hours through the southern entrance, and made a straight line towards the target. As we approached the target, we noticed a turret, and made sure we were not in range. Unfortunately, we underestimated the range of the turret, and we found ourselves trapped behind a box once the turret activated. I believe the turret was off until the assassin remotely turned it on.”

    “Does that mean that the assassin had visual confirmation of the group before activating the turret?” Maxwell asks.

    “No,” Kate responds, “Not only was the assassin facing the other way, but he had headphones on, making him unable to hear us, most probably.”

    “Perhaps there was a motion sensor by the box you hid behind?”

    “Maybe, but my theory is that the turret was also functioning as a camera. Once whoever on the other side of the feed saw what they wanted, they activated the turret.”

    “Do you think the assassin was trying to kill the group?”

    “Honesty, there are much easier, cheaper ways to kill us if they wanted to. Upon closer examination, it was determined the turret was the highest grade on the market, at least in this area. It wouldn’t make any sense if they were just trying to kill us.

    “Hmmmm…,” Maxwell said as he rubbed his chin, looking like he is deep in thought.

    I wanted to interrupt and explain why I thought this whole thing was a trap, but I realized that I still had gaps in my memory and wasn’t quite sure how I got from the car to behind that box. I assume I must have been awake and aware, but lately I have been wondering if I should really assume anything anymore. I decided that I should just wait my turn and really think through why I actually think this was a set-up in the first place..

   

    “Anyway,” Kate continued, “Ken, Josh, and I were stuck behind the box, unable to retreat or advance. It wasn’t until Josh had the idea to just rush the assassin. Neither Ken or I were prepared to move beyond the box, so we could not restrain him. The turret then suddenly became jammed, and Josh subdued the assassin. I then tranquilized the assassin for further questioning.”

    “Questioning…by the UWG I assume?”

    “Yes, Ken called the UWG sponsored clean up crew, and I believe the assassin will be taken to be interrogated.”

    “The Smokers won’t like that, but to be honest, with no back-up, the sniper was bound to be captured. Ken, do you have anything to add?”

    Kate sits down and Ken slowly stands up while cleaning his glasses, “I only have one point to add: I agree that teamwork is a very valuable and important, but I also want this mission to also be an example of how incredibly important intel and having accurate information before-hand is. We were lucky that the turret got jammed, but there was a very good possibility of everyone getting killed! This would not have happened if we were told the information we needed to know.”

    “Ah, yes,” Maxwell says as he also stands up and begins to wander the room, “ The tip actually came from an anonymous email, but I did my research, and everything in the email, including number of personal and position, turned out to be true. I sent three people in the pretense that it would be a learning experience for our newcomer Josh here, but I also figured if something went wrong, we would have backup ready.”

    “But if the turret…

    “You forget that Dan was also waiting outside. I am sure if you were in a less stressful situation, you would have quickly realized how little danger you were in. Luckily, everything went alright, and we even got to see Josh in action!”

    Ken bit his lip as he sat down. It never occurred to me that Dan was waiting outside. I am not entirely sure that Ken didn’t consider that Dan was outside, if anything, Ken seemed rather insistent that ‘the preferred method is to leave them conscious,’ but maybe it was more about Ken taking care of the assassin than any sort of protocol.

    Maxwell then walks towards me, putting his hands on the table, “Talking about Josh, how did you fare on your first mission?”

    “It was a set up!” I respond immediately.

    “Yes, you do seem to be insistent on this thesis of yours, now why is that?”

    “First of all, the assassin seemed to be way too relaxed for any type of assassination. Who listens to loud music seconds before an assassination? Also, who has a hide grade turret to defend them, but then has a handgun with no bullets?”

    “Did you actually test the handgun for any ammunition?”

    “No, but, that’s not the point! You get some anonymous email giving you the exact place and time, the assassin has no real back up, begging to be captured by the UWG, and when he gets captured, he hardly seemed fazed!”

    “Well, he did say ‘holy shit,’ that seems to be pretty surprised to me,” Ken remarks.

    “Also, he mentioned something about being ‘so close,’ but I do agree that the assassin seemed a little bit too relaxed considering the solo effort,” Kate chimes in.

    “You are all assuming that the assassin knew that he was alone,” Maxwell says.

    “He knew that his handgun was empty! If he was going to kill anybody, where was his escape route?” I say as my voice is getting louder.

    “Hold on, ‘if he was going to kill anybody,’ ‘if?’” Maxwell interrupts.

    “I don’t think he was going to kill anybody! I think the whole thing was a set up for him to send a warning!” I finally say.

    “And how does that work, I ask?” Maxwell asks.

    “Assassins usually work at least in pairs, right? That is because one can sight the target, and the other can take the shot. Sniping can be extremely tough and tiresome, waiting for the target, and then actually executing him is almost impossible without at least two people. Without the skill and patience of at least two people, why bother even trying?”

    “Not sure if I agree with the logic, but go on.”

    “Okay, they need at least two people at that distance at least, right? Unless there is an elaborate set up, you can’t snipe someone without at least two angles to work with. The planning would have to be so elaborate for one assassin, that the conditions we found him in don’t make any sense!”

    “Yeah, and Smokers apparently are ruthless to anyone who fails a mission, so I can’t imagine them sending an assassin in with so many handicaps, but why?” Kate asks.

    “They wanted to send a message. The assassin was going to shoot a warning shot, and then get caught, in order to deliver that message. They are going to tell the UWG that they are really after them.”

    “But they are assassins, of course they are ‘really after them,’” Maxwell remarks.

    “Yes, but before they were just targeting anybody they thought had any connection to the UWG. This time, I think they hit the jackpot.”

    “Wait, Tarren Mcnabb? You think Tarren McNabb is more than just a UWG messenger?” Ken asks.

    “I don’t think, I know,” I say.

    “And how do you know that?” Maxwell challenges me.

    “Because I used to be his body guard,”

I am surprised by the words that come out of my mouth. To be honest, I knew in my gut that it was a set up, but I was just bullshitting until I could actually explain why I felt this way. It never occurred to me that I was his body guard. That would explain the ID Protection, but I thought I was trying to run away from Tarren McNabb, instead I ended up working for him?

   

    “Wait, what? I thought you were a famous anti-assassin? You worked directly for the UWG as well?” Ken asks, astonished.

    “Are you allowed to talk about that?” Kate wonders.

    “That would make sense. Those types of turrets would never jam like that. It doesn’t really make sense. Also, I do remember you were very famous a while back and then you just disappeared. I always thought you had joined the Smokers with your friend J, which is why when I got your letter I was rather suspicious. By the way, what happened to him? I suppose you don’t remember?”

    I wasn’t quite sure what Maxwell was talking about, but I began to realize that he might know much more than I thought, though I suppose that may be the reason I choose to go to Maxwell’s in the first place.

    “Anyway, this revelation may explain why there has been more and more heat on us to observe the Smokers. Gwen came back on her reconnaissance mission and Mr. Smoker himself seems to think the world is on the verge of a revolution. Two days from now, the Smoker guild is having a party at the Chamber club in Nouveau Porc. We all need to pack and get on a plane as soon as possible. Ken and Kate, you go and tell everybody we need to prepare to leave tomorrow, Josh, you meet up with Max in his trailer.”

    “Max? Your brother?” I question. I thought they were on bad terms.

    “Yes, and by the way, can you play the drums?”

Compartmentalization (Part 9.5)

Part 9.5: Ken's Side

    With all the drawers and compartments open, Ken’s trailer loses its normal white cleanliness, and looks more like a wood cabin. The previous owner of this trailer put fake wood paneling on the inside of all the compartments. Ken didn’t quite understand why, but he enjoyed the atmosphere of all his things being out in the open. Ken usually works on his coffee table with his white laptop, keeping a rotary phone a hands reach away. People usually call him on his cell phone, but he enjoys the white pearl headset the phone has.
    It suddenly rings, which surprises Ken, but he is quickly filled with dread, as the only person he has given the number to this phone is his mother. He lets it rings three times before psyching himself out and picking it up.
   

“Hi Mom!” Ken says as confidently as he can.

    “Yamato Mishima! Why in the world haven’t you called me!?” Ken’s mother answers. He knows he is in trouble when she uses his real name. Ken tells her to use his code name, but all it has done is given her more tools to chastise him with.
    “I sent you an email two months ago, and you still haven’t responded!” She says angrily.
    “You also send me at least three cat pictures a day! How am I supposed to sift through all that?” Ken responds, thinking that he should have at least sent an email telling her that he got the email.
    “Well, you should respond to those too! Your mother here is all lonely and has nothing to do!”
    “What about all those clubs you joined!”
    “Ug, let me tell you, they tell you that you can choose your friends, but sometimes when you begin to hate everybody, you start to just choose the people you can stand the most.”
    “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
    “Really? Not making many friends in that ‘job’ of yours?”
    “I mean, I have friends, its just, I am isolated, you know?”
    “No, I don’t know. Because I am a normal person that doesn’t do crazy things in the desert. You are just like your father!”
    “This is an extremely legitimate profession!”
    “Oh yeah? and killing people is a profession?!
    “Mom, for the hundredth time, I don’t kill people! I stop people from killing people! I don’t even hold a gun!”
    “Yamato, come home. Please. At least go to this family gathering with me. It is like two towns away from where you are! It is right by Los Sue-Me-Wake!”
    “It is pronounced ‘SU-MI-WA-KE’ and I can’t go because we are busy! A new recruit is coming in and I gotta meet him!”
    “Who is this new recruit? Is he more important than your mother!?”
    “No, mom, of course not. But Maxwell said we need all the staff on hand because he is a famous anti-assassin and if something goes wrong, we need everybody!”
    “Ridiculous. You haven’t taken a single vacation day since you have been there. You deserve to take a break.”
    “I work for the UWG! If I do this job right, we can finally get enough money to live the life we always wanted!”
    “Life YOU always wanted! All I want is to be with my son! I would trade all the riches in the world to be a family again! At least come to this family gathering with me. The Tanakas are going to be there too and you can talk to that Maria girl again!”

    Ken couldn’t think of anything less he wanted to do than to talk to Maria Tanaka again. Last time he met with her, it started with an awkward kiss and ended with the shame and regret that came afterwards. The worst part wouldn’t be that Maria didn’t want to see him again, the worst part is that she was perfectly fine and happier without him.

    “I am not going mother, and that is final!” Ken says while slamming his fist to try to fight the memories forming in his brain.
    “Fine! Fine, Mr. Bigshot. You do what you do over there and let your mother die alone. But I swear to God, if you die before me...I’ll...I’ll...” she says as she starts to sob.

    Ken saw this coming, he knew these were genuine tears, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were just another trick up her sleeve to guilt him back home.

    “I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU YAMATO MISHIMA! YOU HEAR ME!”
    “I hear you Mom, don’t worry, it sounds like this Josh-guy is the best in the business, so I’m sure that it will be smooth sailing from here.”
    “My God in heaven, I wish it was a woman! I wish he died saving some girl half his age, but he died playing mahjongg! Mahjongg! He just had to go to Japan and play some stupid game with his friends and it all went to hell...”
    “Mom, c’mon, everybody lost someone in the Catastrophe.”
    “At least I could understand! I can understand lust, but a stupid game? Who dies like that! Fools!”
    “Mom!”
    “And you are a fool too! Just like your father! You are going to die, and I don’t think my heart can take it!”
    “Mom, I know losing Dad was tragic, but at least he died what doing what he loved right? He even let those people on the rescue helicopters! He was a hero!”
    “How dare you defend that man!”
    “No, Mom, I just saying, he died in extraordinary circumstances, if I told you once, I told you a hundred times! I’m not Dad, and I am going to be fine!”
    “No, at least he died being a crazy, irresponsible person, you are going to die working for some slave drivers!”
    “Just because I can’t come to the gathering doesn’t mean I am a ‘slave,’ okay? Once things get a little slower around here, I’ll take the first flight back home and visit you.”
    “You better not be lying. I am going to tell everybody about you, and I will start getting them to pester you to until you come down here.”
    “I look forward to it Mom.”
    “Will you at least video call when the gathering happens?”
    “I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Alright, Yamato, I love you.”
    “I love you Mom, and can you please call me Ken? It is my code name and I don’t want people to know my real name around here.”
    “You come up here and visit, and maybe then I’ll call you ‘Ken.”
    “Haha, okay Mom, talk to you later!”
    “You’d better.”

    Ken hangs up the phone, and takes a big breath. If there is something she is right about, he does need to get out of here. He is hoping that with his good record and this famous anti-assassin coming in soon, a few opportunities can rise up and present themselves. Ken takes another big breath. He knows that he is like his father in a lot of ways, but he knows that he also has his mother’s wit and practicality as well. Ken wishes he could talk to somebody around here, but he feels like he has to constantly have his shield up. Maybe that is why he has been spending most of his time alone lately.
   
    Ken’s cell phone rings, he picks it up without looking at the caller ID.
    “Hello?” Ken says as he holds the phone to his ear.
    “Hey, it’s Dan.” Dan responds.
    “Oh, hey Dan.”
    “I got that Josh guy, totally out cold back here. If he stays asleep, can he stay at your place?”
    “Sure. No problem.”
    “Cool. Also, do you got any clothes he could wear? This guy looks like he got messed up a bit.”
    “I’ll get right on it.”
    “Thanks man, I owe you one.”

    Dan hangs up, and Ken begins to look through everything to see if there are any clothes. As he looks, he begins to smile. “He could really be my ticket out of here,” he thinks to himself.

Compartmentalization (Part 9)

Part 9: Unraveling

    I was alone in Ken’s trailer, not entirely sure where Ken was. I was instructed to change clothes, and I was too happy to finally dump the shirt and pants that I am sure were quite fancy before, the torn suit coat, and the pointless tie. I looked at the pile of clothes I was offered to wear, and most of it seemed completely inappropriate for the mission at hand; a bunch of branded t-shirts and blue jeans. I was trying to remember what I wore in the future, but I couldn’t remember. I guess that means it wasn’t too out of the ordinary, but I am getting kind of frustrated trying to match the memory I shouldn’t even have yet.
    Most of the clothes didn’t really fit me, but I finally found a sort of dark green spandex running suit type deal. It covered my whole body and seemed to fit nicely. It wasn’t any more ridiculous as Kate’s camouflage number (wait, it ‘wasn’t?’ shouldn’t that be ‘will not be?’ thinking about the future in past tense is hard). So I decided to wear it. I looked myself in the mirror, and it looks a little small on me, but it feels nice, and makes me look like a professional bike rider, which I can go either way on.

Now that I am suited up I feel more excited, though I am much more excited to take a nap than go anywhere. Now that I had a name, Terran McNabb, I could concentrate on that while I take a nap in the car, and hopefully I can get a clue about what in the world is going on here. If I can concentrate on a name while falling into sleep, I can usually dream about what I want to know about, whether anything comes up usually depends on whether I have anything to remember in the first place.

Then Ken comes in, “You all ready to go?” He asks.

“I got this thing on. Is it okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t think that is even mine, I think it came with the place. Don’t worry though, everything is clean.”

It makes sense that it wasn’t Ken’s, as he is shorter than me, but I wonder what kind of person leaves a spandex suit in a trailer. Maybe it is some sort of anti-assassin uniform? That could be it, and Ken never uses it because he needs to stand out more than anything. I see Ken dressed in a white suit, white pants, white shoes, with white gloves. I am reminded a bit of a white flag, which may or may not be the intended effect.

“Alright,” Ken says in the mirror, adjusting his black hair and cleaning his thick glasses, “Dan is waiting for us outside in the van. Do whatever you need to do, and be outside in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.” I said rather tiredly, and my voice reminded me how tired I was. I was so thankful I could nap in the car. Terran McNabb. I couldn’t think of anything else anymore. I looked in the mirror on last time. I thought I saw a flash of something in the corner, but I think it is just my brain ready to go into overdrive. I walk outside, and walk in the van. I say hello to Dan. He seems to be doing alright. I then sit in the middle of the backseat, close my eyes, and repeat to myself, Terran McNabb, Terran McNabb, Terran McNabb…

I open my eyes, and I am in some sort of dirty basement. Plenty of lights, but the only thing I look at is this mural full of rock stars I have forgotten the names of. I want to look away, observe more of the place, but I realize quickly that I can’t control the memory. I hear a man’s voice and I quickly turn towards him.

“Welcome!” the man yells at me. The man has a lab coat over a black t-shirt and jean shorts. He is only wearing white socks on his feet, and his hair looks like his head is a lighting rod and streams of black lightning are hitting it. His face looks like he is wearing Groucho Marx glasses, but the lines of his face betray any sort of disguise. “Welcome to the lair of higher brain function!” The crazy looking man begins to show me around, I can’t really hear anything he says, which I think means that I don’t remember.

“Excuse me,” I interrupt, “But I am here for the MCN training? I saw your ad on TV and I am terrible at tests, so I figure this could be cool.” My voice sounds like mine but younger. Maybe 7-8 years before now (whenever ‘now’ is).

“Of course, my boy, of course! In fact, of all the people who have called me, you are the one I have chosen to be the true specialist of MCN! For you will be trained in Mind Compartmentalization by none other than me, Dr. Cornelius McNabb! The president of  MCN Co.!”

“Mind Compartmentalization? Is that what MCN stands for?”

“No, actually it stands for the ‘McNabb Company,’ the ‘Mind Compartmentalization’ name is just a nice coincidence. And one must always be wary of coincidences! For our brain looks for those even where there is none!”

“Huh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yes! The mind, my boy, is exactly where we will be focusing on.”

“Uh, how long is this going to take? I got homework due tomorrow, and…

“No matter, no matter. The mind is a hard thing to train! Therefore we will take as long as necessary.”

“Oh wow, is that okay? I mean, I am working a part time job and going to college, I don’t have a lot of money,”

“Oh my goodness! I will not take money from you! In fact, if you want to quit that job and just live here, that would be fine as well.”

“I am not so sure about that.

“My boy. Do whatever makes you most comfortable, but you are now my apprentice! The one that will prove to the world that MCN works!”

“Wait, okay, I mean, as long as it is free, but I really just need this to pass my tests. I am really bad at testing which is why,”

Dr. Cornelius grabs my shoulder and shakes me a bit, “Once we are done, you won’t need to take any more tests. I’ll teach you not just how to learn enough to make school trivial, but I’ll teach you how to make this entire world your oyster. If you don’t start seeing results in one month, you can take all hospitality and just leave. No strings attached!”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do with my free time. I’m in! Thanks Dr. McNabb!”

“Oh, call me Dr. Cornelius,” the man says while I shake the his hand and everything fades away.

When things come back to focus, I am in the same basement, with the mural, but everything has been rearranged from a messy basement, to a more organized environment, with tables, chairs, books in bookshelves, and I see Dr. Cornelius, looking less like a lightning rod, and more like a man with longer, messier hair, like all the power fell out of his hair, and is now hanging normally.

“So now you are telling people!? Do you realize how dangerous that is!?” He yells at me.

“You didn't tell me that I would forget names! How the hell am I supposed to find somebody to go out with if I can’t remember their name!?”

“You could have told me about this, and we could have worked on it together! Now, how many people have you told!?”

“I don’t think,”

“HOW MANY PEOPLE!?”

“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO ADVERTISED ON TV! THAT IS WHY I AM HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“Josh. My boy. How many people.”

“Three.’

“THREE!!?”

“Two of them broke things off once I told them, but the third one,”

As I begin to explain, Dr. Cornelius begins to take out boxes from out of the bookcases and begins to furiously look through them. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters as he is looking through them.

“Why can’t I tell people!? You said I could live my normal life while doing this training, so why can’t I tell people?” I say to Cornelius, even though he doesn’t seem to be listening while he is looking through some papers.

“This isn’t the girl is it?” he shows me a picture, my memory of it is blurred, but I do remember it was the pretty lady I went on a date the night before.

“Why do you have her picture?”

Dr. Cornelius sits down at the table, the anger seemingly draining out of him.

    “We’re screwed.”
    “Wait, why?” I begin to panic, not so much because of what he said, but because of his sudden change.
    “That is A_____ McNabb” for some reason I can’t hear her first some as Dr. Cornelius says it, “Did you not think that maybe that was a little weird?  Some girl with the same last name just so happens to like you a lot?”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” I say indignantly.
    “Josh, you can’t be that dim. This whole thing is supposed to be about linking and grouping connections in the brain to make it so you can figure out things, to give your brain the processing power to realize thing the layman can’t. You honestly can’t tell me you didn’t suspect something.”
    “You told me not to rely on coincidences!”
    “There is coincidences, and then there is common sense!”

“Oh yeah!? So am I to assume you used to have a famous quarterback in your family too!?”

“If you are standing on the train tracks, and you hear a train, you shouldn’t just keep standing there just because getting run over would be a ‘coincidence!’”

    I could see myself trying to process that metaphor and then something seemed to hit me like a brick.
    “What we’re doing…isn’t legal…is it?”
    “Josh, my boy, did you ever think about why you are the only one to be doing this? Why everyone else thinks this is a scam? Because for them, it is. The MCN books I send them are complete bullcrap. But what I am given you, the abilities you will unlock, no one else has. No one else has this ability, now why do you think this is? Do you think it is because you are just that smart? No offence, but you also wouldn’t have come if you were already a genius. The reason why no one else has this ability is because I stole it.”
    “What?”
    “Well, ‘stolen’ isn’t the right word. I guess you could say I ‘took it back.’

I could feel my brain then make leaps of logic and come to the only conclusion that made sense. The only organization Dr. Cornelius could have possibly taken something this revolutionary was from, “The United World Government? You took this from the UWG?”

“It was my project. The one that they abandoned. I knew it could work, could change everything. But they didn’t believe in it. They sent me to be an assistant on another project. I became so disenfranchised that they sent me home.”

“What’s the problem then? If they don’t want it, why would they go after you?”

“Well, they don’t want me, that’s for sure. If they did, I would be caught already, but that is only because no one believed in me,” I remember Dr. Cornelius sounding especially bitter here, “If they find out that I am not just a crackpot, they will be after me for sure.”

“Why?”

“Because what I was proposing was a system that could fool any sort of probe, that no matter what sort of torture or deal, a person could keep a secret so hidden, that nobody could access it, potentially even the person in question. The UWG shut it down because while it would be useful to them, if it ever got out...”

“Then the UWG couldn’t track them, they could potentially be a force of perfect espionage”

“Yes, and somebody that could potentially...”

“...bring the UWG down.”

“And now you realise,” Dr. Cornelius says as he looks at me frankly, “Why we should kiss our balls goodbye.”

“Wait, how does MCN do that?”

“If somebody learns how to compartmentalize the brain, the amount of knowledge you can store, and keep that knowledge to yourself is astronomical.”

“What does A_____ have to do with anything? Why her?”

“A_____ just so happens to be the daughter of a UWG official.”

“So, that means,”

“Yes, by brother just so happens to be the one person I have to fear the most, but isn’t that like every family? I swear.

My mind was racing, I had just became somebody that could finally think as clearly as I always wanted too, I was on the road to becoming one of those smart and clever people I always see on TV and movies, but the reality of situation was beginning to come down on me. Training had not been easy. There were some days that concentrating on a single image, while trying to will my mind to change through meditation, that I thought I was going to die. There were times I thought I was going to fade away into nothing, and sometimes that is what I wanted. I had dived into my own human mind, and it felt like I was eating myself alive. But I was finally seeing the end of the tunnel, to the point where everything was going to be worth it, but I didn’t want to use all my talents to run away from the world.

I try to separate the anxiety of my younger self from my current self, which I find harder than it should. I try to tell myself that everything will be okay (though I am not entirely sure how it happens, or if I am actually okay now), but my younger self overpowers me and I lose focus again. When I refocus I see Dr. Cornelius, no longer looking like a cartoon character, but much older, with grey streaks in his hair.

“Well, I guess this is the end,” Dr. Cornelius says to me. I realise that we are in a field leading to a forest at twilight. The only things I can remember is the green of the grass, the reddish orange of the sky, and the murky brownness of the forest I was going into.

“I guess so,” I respond weakly.

“I know this was all so insane, but, I am glad you came. You, my boy, are the only living proof that I wasn’t so crazy after all.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry.

“Good luck,” Dr. Cornelius goes to shake my hand but I hug him instead. To be honest, I am not sure why I felt so close to him. I guess I saw him as a sort of father, but now I wonder if he was just using me to prove himself. Maybe Dr. Cornelius would say something like ‘that is why all fathers’ want sons!’ but my naive love for him as a youth only brings contempt in me as who I am now.

“Jordan Steinman will meet you in the clearing in the forest,” Dr. Conelius says as I am hugging him, “he is a anti-assassin, so the UWG won’t be after you if they think you are working for them. Just watch your back, alright?”

“Alright,” I say as I let go and pick up my backpack that I assume has all my things, “Thanks Doc...for everything.” I can hear my younger self thinking that he should go back, but I can feel my current self rolling my eyes. My younger self runs into the forest, looking back only once, and then as he disappears, I also lose focus. The last thing I hear is Dr. Cornelius say, “And remember to enjoy life once in a while, will ya’!”

I wake up back in Dan’s van.

“The hero wakes up!” I hear Kate say triumphantly.

“You okay Josh?” I hear Ken say.

I am more than okay, I feel like I can finally think with clarity. I am not one hundred percent sure exactly where I am going, but I finally feel like I am on a path.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. When, I mean, where am I?” I ask.

“You are back in the van, and you took out that assassin out like a pro!” Kate responds

Good. I am back in the present.

“We need to go back to Maxwell as soon as possible,” I say authoritatively.

“Yes, of course,” Ken says a little hesitantly, “but why don’t you get some rest first? I’m sure he’ll talk to you after you rest a little.”

“I need to tell Maxwell that we didn’t stop an assassination, we just spread a message.”

“What?”

It was crystal clear to me now. The reason I am here, the reason I can’t remember anything, it was all starting to unravel.

Compartmentalization (Part 8)

Part 8: The Armory

    I got so tired that I was entering that sort of giddiness that only comes from lack of sleep. I needed a nap. In the meantime, I found myself walking with Ken and Kate to the one trailer I haven’t been yet, which I assume is ‘the armory.’

    Wanting to break the silence, I asked the obvious question, “So, what is up with Maxwell and his brother? Are they really mad each other because of the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing?”

    “Nah, I don’t think so,” Ken answers, “I think Maxwell is just mad at his brother because Max hasn’t done a single thing here since he started his music hobby. All he does now is fiddle around on his guitar. It’s a shame too; Max was great to work with.”

    “So does that mean that Max and Maxwell are…”

    “Gay? Sure! Bisexual? Maybe. Honestly couldn’t care less, but it does make for good gossip.”

    “Hold on, you don’t know that,” Kate interrupts, “People think me and Gwen are dating all the time. Just because they are close doesn’t mean they are doing it.”

    “Oh, did you guys break up?” Ken retorts.

    “F--- you, someone as asexual as you shouldn’t be making assumptions on other people’s sexuality.”

    “I’ll have you know that I, like Maxwell, I keep my private life private.”

    “Does that mean you are…?”

    “An amazing ladies’ man? Yes, yes it does,” Ken gives Kate a smile.

    “Wait,” I say, “So their names are ‘Max’ and ‘Maxwell?’”

    “No, Maxwell are their last names, Maxwell’s first name is Alexander,” Kate says.

    “So Max Maxwell and Alexander Maxwell? Why does everyone call him Maxwell?”

    “That’s just how Maxwell wants it I suppose,” Ken says while shrugging his shoulders, “Anyway, we are here.”

    We get to the sickly green trailer, and Ken enters a code on the keypad on the door that looks rather similar to the door on the second floor of Maxwell’s trailer. It seems the code is much shorter than on Maxwell’s door, which is surprising, for as we open the door, tons of weapons, explosives, various machines seem to be hanging all over the place.

    “Don’t worry! Nothing is dangerous in this room, in fact, most of this stuff is broken,” Ken reassures me, though I don’t find it that comforting.

    “All I need are tranqs,” Kate says and grabs what look to be huge needles.

    The room was dirty, and it was probably white before all the dirt and grime of various unused things made it grey. The place was cramped and messy, but it still has a small brown table in the middle with various things carved on the surface. I read ‘SMOKERS BE SMOKED’ and various dirty words which made me wonder who in the world carved all these things.

    “Alright, so the mission is pretty simple,” Ken says while spreading out papers on the table, “a UWG messenger is going to appear not too far from here in the town of Los Sumiwake. He is going to make a speech, and sources say the assassin is going to be stationed here,” Ken points to one of the papers spread on the desk that has a map, “It is an empty warehouse, with a perfect view of the entire stage.”

    “Wait, is there anywhere else he could be?” Kate asks.

    “No,” Ken confirms by looking through all the places, “Only one place makes any sense.”

    “Huh, I guess this guy is pretty much a grunt then. No way they would send a high grade assassin, alone, to a place with only one potential sniping point. That doesn’t even make sense.”

    “We are thinking it is just a ‘cash grab’”

    “Cash grab?” I ask.

    “Yes, ‘cash grab.’ Low ranking Smoker assassins sometimes take advantage of the anti-assassin priority to deal with things with money instead of violence by holding UWG officials ‘hostage.’ They threaten, we come pay them off, they leave,” Ken explained.

    “How, how does that work?”

    “Its all incredibly corrupt, but the UWG pays for it, so it doesn’t cost us anything. Ken’s job is mostly going through security, and giving people money,” Kate says while Ken looks at her with the sheen from the single light in the room making it impossible to see his eyes.

    I then remembered that Ken won’t be able to ‘negotiate’ anything from the assassin we are about to encounter. The guy has an automatic turret that betrays any sort of ‘grunt’ status. I wonder if I should warn them, try to change the future, but I am just too tired, and too afraid that if I change anything, somebody is going to end up dead. But Kate is right, it doesn’t make any sense. Why in the world would they send one guy with smart firepower, to the middle of nowhere, with no escape, to assassinate some random UWG messenger? Not only that, but the way he was so unperturbed by my going through the turret and stopping him, something didn’t add up.

    “I am guessing the only reason we are sending three people is to show Josh here,” Ken points to me, “the ropes. I could easily handle this on my own, but I suppose I’ll do my job and Kate will explain what is happening.”

    “Are you serious!? You think I am just some sort of tour guide!?” Kate says while looking rather perturbed.

    “Why else would you be here?” Ken says in a deadpan.

    “To protect your butts! I am going to take care of the assassin, YOU can be the chatty Kathy. You are the one who just loves to talk anyway!” Kate says.

    “Kate, Kate, oh Kate. How wonderfully naïve you are. Maxwell assigning me to this mission just to talk with Josh? That would be a waste of my time.”

    “Oh, so I was assigned because I am the super articulate one!?

    “No, Maxwell assigned you because…” but before Ken could finish, Gwen entered the already cramped room.

    “Is there any perfume left in here? I think there was one bottle left.” Gwen said in all seriousness. I didn’t answer, for I had no idea why in the world perfume would be stored here, and by the looks of it, neither did Ken and Kate. Gwen entered the room, forcing Ken and Kate to move their chairs in. They looked rather uncomfortable as Gwen carefully looked through all the junk.

    “Here it is.” Gwen says while looking in between what looked like a rocket, and what looked like some sort of blunt axe.

    “What’s up Gwen? Going somewhere?” said Kate.

    “Yeah, I have an information gathering mission at a Smoker fundraising ball tonight. Supposedly, the leader is going to be there, so I am going to try and find some intel on where he is going to be next,” Gwen said with an air of boredom.

    “WHAT!?” Ken said, and looked like he was about to stand up but didn’t have enough space, “but that’s my job! Why is Maxwell sending you!?”

    “I guess he thought you were too busy with whatever the mission you are on. Good luck, by the way,” Gwen said as she left the trailer with the perfume.

    “Bye Gwen.” Kate responded.

    “’Too busy’? Bullshit! That is incredibly important information, and he would only send the most qualified to go! Ahhhhg, where did I go wrong! I went from being the man with the highest record, to someone he can’t even take missions solo anymore!” Ken says while grabbing clumps of his hair.

    “Yeah, if you’re not careful, you could be out of here by the end of the week!” Kate said.

    “Kate, I keep on telling you, no one gets fired around here! Max is still here and all he does is rehearse with Ben all day!”

    I have heard this argument before, and I instead look at all the papers on the desk. I start to get bored and think that I should take this opportunity to finally read that packet on ‘the catastrophe’ I got from Maxwell, but the first page in just a list of statistics and I am still too tired to really get into it. I lay my head on the table, and close my eyes and try to drown out the bickering voices around me. I can’t really sleep sitting, and suddenly I open my eyes and see a picture of a very familiar man on one of the sheets of paper on the table. I pick up the picture and ask, “Who is this?”

    Ken and Kate look surprised that I interrupted whatever they were talking about. Ken takes the paper from me and then takes another piece of paper and begins to look like he is comparing the two.

    “Well,” Ken responds, “My summary says here that the picture is somebody named…McNabb, Terran McNabb.”

    Something clicked into place in my head. I know that name. It is tied into why I am here in the first place. I realize that once I can get some shut eye, then I can begin to unravel what is really going on here.

    “Alright! So we will enter the warehouse in the back, Dan will be our driver and will prepare our cleanup crew,” Ken explained and then remarked while looking at Kate, “if we need it. I’ll explain more specifics when we get there, but it is pretty much go in, take care of business, and get out of there. Not too complex. I figure this is the perfect mission to introduce Josh to the business! So, if no one has any other questions, we can break, change, and meet up in 20 minutes!”

    I raise my index finger, spying a box that says ‘chaff grenades,’ to try and ease my conflicted brain that says I need to test whether this is really the present or not, but instead Ken responds, “Oh yes, we have plenty of extra clothes. I keep them stored at my place, and I have a shower there too so just follow me!” and Ken walks out of the trailer before I can make a single objection.

    Kate takes one look at me and says, “It may be a little scary at first but don’t worry about it, I got your back,” she holds out her fist, and it takes me a second to figure out she wants a fist bump. I reluctantly do it, instead of asking about the grenades. She leaves, and before I leave, I peer into the box. I should’ve figured, the box is not only empty but dusty. I also forgot that I was the ‘newbie’ around here, so I doubt that anyone would have taken my warnings about the turret seriously anyways. I resign to my fate with the hope that once I finally get a nap, things will finally begin to make sense