Call it even

“Eve is dead. She has been two years.”

Silence. Your ears are ringing. A heatwave threatens to push you backwards. Anna falls gingerly into the armchair and ducks her head into her hands; her eyes mirror your own, and you grit your teeth to push angry tears back into your depths. Let go.

               “Wh-Why were we not told before; I am her fiancé?”

               “And she’s my sister!” Anna cries out as the tears hammer down from her clouded eyes. She quickly curls back into herself, begins to mutter apologies and the nearby blazer offers her a box of tissues which she reluctantly takes and begins blowing her nose, apologising with watery eyes after every loud blow.

               “Was. I’m sorry. It was necessary for your safety.” The secretary states and takes a breath as to begin again, but from the corner a dark suited gentleman stands up. You feel his posture rising until it is eminently above your own. He drops his shoulders and lets the atmosphere cradle his stature. He raises his eyebrows and watching our reactions, he holds the pause. Then begins.

               “That will be all Blois.” She does not move, but gazes sympathetically at Anna, so he coughs and adds “Harriet.” to his sentence, watching the ever unmoving ground as he does so. Blois turns her head sharply at her name then steps back rubbing her earlobe. He turns to you and Anna. “My sincerest apologies for the shock this must have caused you both. I am Mr Wilson. Now, we need you to answer some questions then if you wish and all goes -” (he pauses rotating his hand from side to side) “Well, you can turn from this and not look back again. There are some identity issues we must see to also.” He clasps his hands and in a swift motion turns to Anna. “Your parents, Miss Young, are dead. Are they not?”

               Anna, though had calmed herself, bursts a second time into tears. The blazer reaches out his tissue-boxed hand to her and she receives them readily. One, two, three, four out of the box, dropping two and recovering them from the floor whilst controlling the water flow with the other unsteady hand. Miss Blois turns and shakes her head at Mr Wilson who tried to cover his flushed cheeks with composure. Mr Wilson begins to pace across the floor. Blois takes over.

               “Sorry Miss Young, I did tell him to be gentle.” She turns to you, and her stern glare catches your eyes. “I must ask you to answer this question on behalf of Miss Young.”

               “The statement was correct,” You glance at Anna and your shoulders drop as you watch her crying come to a steady yet still uncontrollable sob. “They left this earth but two months ago.”

               “Thank you Mr Gray. Do you have anything of her last words, any written record or evidence?”

               Anna immediately picks up her purse knocking over a vase simultaneously, the blazer catches it and steadies it. Anna’s tears return and she continues to apologise, and between the sobs she pulls out an envelope. You go to your inside pocket and hand Blois a folded letter, but study the photograph for a moment before handing that over as well. Blois takes them gently and hands all, gazing at his face, to Mr Wilson. Glancing at the clock, he takes them and studies them. There is a moment silence apart from Anna’s sniffs. Then, Mr Wilson stops his pacing and his lettered hand begins to shake.

               “They cannot leave. M.E.Y. has disclosed the information to both.” He turned to you. “You are knee-deep in this now.”

               A pause in your thought trail left you to miss the swift exit of the cushioned room and you were ushered behind the glass to discover that people were watching the whole time in the white, metalled room. Engine noises whirred across the wires taped to the floor. Red, blue, black, yellow, repeat. Blois moved quickly in front of you with Mr Wilson next to her, his eyes flicking between her and the photographs. She turned and whispered something to him and after meeting his fingers to hers, he took a sharp turn, leaving the party. Blois turned to you and began sauntering backwards:

               “Mr Wilson will return. He must consult intelligence whilst I brief you two.” She turned to the first blazer who still stood by Anna creating a quiet “zp” noise. The blazer lifted his head up and down once barely moving his neck, then he left. Blois turned back around and swung open two oak doors and you enter a dark room. Blue lights flick on and pictures of Eve are displayed in the lights.

               “Keep quiet and watch.” Blois commands.

               Eve, bathed in the blue light, looks at your faces and out of breath she speaks three distorted words, she screams and the screen goes black, the sound of an engine rips through the screen but is unfinished and the screen begins to fuzz. Before it plays again, white lights break through the darkness. Blois has gone to the desk in the corner and Mr Wilson paces across the stage floor.

               “Mr Gray,” he takes a breath and pauses, rubbing his hands. “Have you any idea what those three words were?”

               “Couldn’t be certain Sir.”

               “Most earnestly yours. I believe you are familiar with these?”

               “Of course, she signed off a few letters in this way.”

               Mr Wilson raised his eyebrows at Blois and her face becomes stale and concerned.  “Mr Gray, Miss Young, we have been looking for ‘most earnestly yours’ for the whole of these two years and have discreetly interviewed every one of Mey’s connections. At the time it was impossible to connect with you as our servers were down and there are some which would have loved to know your location in order to destroy it. Our security has increased making this interview possible and you have proved to be just the people we were after. Most earnestly yours stands for M.E.Y. her codename of such, rather the name which she uses to indicate a coded message. The symbols at the bottom can only be decoded by the key. They are mostly coordinates, however…” his voice wavers. “I fear; it may be more than that.”

               The blue lights turn on again and Mr Wilson steps out of the way. The symbols from the bottom of the letter light up. Anna flew forwards in her chair. “Those are the same symbols as in mine!”         

               You interrupt. “Wait, wait, wait, your security system was down so some enemy got hold of your base location and you didn’t think to relocate, you didn’t search for a letter you knew Eve wrote and you knew everyone was after the information in it, and your telling me what the code is? What a great agency you are.”

               “I’m sorry it was necessary.” Blois states.

               You roll your eyes.

Mr Wilson nodded to Blois and you watch the symbols form words:

               May 5^th - danger to homebase, goodbye.

               Mr Wilson’s wavering voice becomes grave and his hands keep their shaking. Blois begins to bite her lip: “Sir?”

               “Line up all incoming artillery to the coordinate lines given in the letter.” Mr Wilson said. Blois saw each of the lines light up red.

               “We need to get out.” She said.

               “No. Lockdown, there isn’t enough time to evacuate.”

               “But…”

               Red sirens flare.  

               “Put the place on lockdown Blois!” Mr Wilson cries.

               ‘Ten seconds to impact.’ Says the alarm system.

 “No.” says Blois. Mr Wilson turns to her in disbelief.

‘Nine seconds’

“They won’t close in time.” Anna mutters to you.

‘Eight seconds.’

               “It’s quite simple you know.” Blois states.

‘Seven seconds’

“You don’t command me. The enemy does.”

‘Six seconds’

Mr Wilson pulls out his automatic. “You, sneaky double-agent, how did I not see this coming. Do it or I shoot.”

‘Five’

“Love, dearest. That is how you did not see it coming.” Blois reiterated.

‘four’

“Put the gun down Wilson, either way, this agency is dead.”

‘three’

“It’s over.” You whisper.

‘two’

“At least my conscience will be clear.” Mr Wilson shoots. You and Anna kick in a panel under the stage and duck under.

‘one’

               The bombs explode.