Kami finally had some space to himself. His girlfriend Ginny, who would normally be at his place on a weekend like this, but was out of town with some friends. This was somewhat of a rarity for Kami who worked hard during the week in his corporate position for a small tech startup. That is not to say he resented his responsibilities- He was grateful for a loving partner and a job where he could make a real difference but sometimes he simply required room to recharge his batteries. One could say he was a highly social-introvert.
With the aroma of freshly poured bourbon in one hand, Kami heard the ding of his micro-wave oven, signalling his popcorn was ready. With his gawky limbs, he took hold of the bag and dispensed its fragrant buttery contents into a large bowl. He then proceeded to his beloved Eames arm chair. He felt around for the television remote and pushed the ‘on’ button. The moment he placed his feet on his leg-rest, there was a loud wrap on his front door.
‘Who could that be?’, Kami muttered to himself. ‘Today was meant to be characterised by uninterrupted, mindless television viewing.’ Placing his snack and beverage down on the coffee table, Kami stood up albeit reluctantly, and made his way, lazily for the door. ‘Who is it?’, he shouted to the uninvited guest outside.
‘Quick, let me in’ the visitor squealed. Kami was by the peep-hole by this time and as he gazed through it, he saw something he wasn’t expecting on his relaxation day. There, through the peep-hole was a middle-aged man who had clearly been beaten and bloodied. His short blond-thinning hair looked more like rust and a gash by his left temple trailed blood to his chin. His white shirt was partially stained with same said blood.
For lack of better judgement, Kami released the lock on his door and let the gentleman in. The visitor stumbled in quickly shutting the door behind him. He stood about five-foot-seven and though Kami was at least six inches taller, this gentleman was broader shouldered and brawny. ‘Do you have a back door?’, he loudly demanded. Kami was stunned at first. The man retorted, this time much louder, ‘Do you have a back door?’
Kami finally gave an answer, ‘Yes, it’s this way’.
The man again demanded, ‘Lock it now - and any open windows in this place. Now, move!’
This was clearly an urgent situation and it made Kami jump to fulfil the orders immediately. Kami lived in a 1950s mid-century modern conversion bungalow that was surrounded by exterior glass pocket doors. He scrambled to pull them all shut and finally made his way to the study to shut the back door. On his return, the man had a purple-glowing device, the size of a golf ball in his hand as he peered through the peep-hole. Kami was clearly nervous at this point as the initial surge of adrenaline left his body. He asked sheepishly, ‘Can you please tell me what you are doing in my house?’
The gentleman constantly wiped the blood from his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt. ‘You are not going to believe what I’m about to tell you but it’s the best I can do right now. I need you to listen very carefully. My name is Gibson. I’m a special government commissioned spy and I’ve just escaped from the hands of assassins that were hired by an international drug cartel. I’ve been gathering intelligence on them for months and I guess someone found out and blew my cover. A tracking device has been implanted into the back of my skull so in a few minutes the assassins will turn up at the door looking to neutralise me.’ He delivered this introduction in a much calmer fashion to when he first arrived. Kami’s knees began to wobble. ‘Don’t even think about fainting. Here’s what’s going to happen. That black coupe outside is yours?
Kami nodded confused.
‘Good, that’s good. Go stand by the back door. When I give you the signal, I need you to run outside and start the car. Wait for me to get in, then I’ll let you know where we’re going.’ Gibson knelt down by the front door, taking the glowing object in his hand, he placed it underneath the runner rug.
‘What’s that?’ Kami asked as his voice quivered.
‘It’s a chronoscope-reconfiguration charge’ replied Gibson. That made no sense to Kami but he gathered it must be an explosive device. Scared, he decided the back door was probably the safest part in the house right now so he headed for it as quickly as possible. His heart was beating at triple time by now and his t-shirt was drenched in nervous sweats.
Surely, within minutes there was some loud commotion. Kami could hear the loud screech-to-a-stop of a car at the front of the house. Four car doors were slammed shut and some loud northern European accents could be heard as men shouted menacingly.
‘Gibbs!, let us in. We just want to talk. You have five seconds or we’ll shoot.’
Gibson could see through the peep-hole that only two of them had weapons in their hands. He said nothing as the men tried to push the door down. This was unfruitful as it was a specifically fashioned security door. The men were big, burley and bald. The type that commanded dread wherever they went. One of them rammed the door with his shoulders then his boots to no avail. He then emptied the ammo in his pistol into the door. The second gunned man did the same but they couldn’t get in. One man rushed back to the car and Gibson could tell was was coming next. They were about to ram the car straight into the house.
He blurted to Kami, ‘Now, to the car!’
Kami fumbled with the back-door lock for the longest two seconds of his life and finally made his way out. He darted out through the back gate and started his car. He could hear Gibson shouting to the four men, ‘Wait, I’ll surrender myself’. What you’re looking for is in the living room. Come through.’ Next thing, Gibson was by Kami’s car and getting in. Kami had never seen anyone move that fast.
‘Drive’, Gibson exclaimed loudly and urgently. Kami put down his foot on the accelerator and sped down the street. The spy then pulled out a phone from his pocket and punched some numbers in. There was a loud noise behind them and Kami could see a large plume of smoke erupt in his rear-view mirror.
He stuttered, ‘You, you blew up my house?’
‘No, I’ve simply sent your front driveway, house and everyone inside it, back in history 100 years. Your house will be back in one piece in about ten minutes. Stop the car on the side of the road please.’ Kami complied, albeit perplexed at what had just happened. ‘You’ve been very brave,’ continued Gibson ‘here’s my card. Thank you so much.’ He exited the car and bid a completely bemused Kami good-bye.
Driving back to his house with so many questions, it had been half an hour since he left. He parked up, entered through the back door, half expecting to be apprehended by the assassins from earlier on, only to hear the door bell ringing and the voice of his girlfriend on the other side of the door. He quickly rushed to let her in, checking for the car, bullet holes in the door or any sign of them.
She was tall, with pins for legs and slender shoulders underneath long dark wavy hair. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been ringing for ten minutes. You look so dishevelled.
Kami looked down at his hand, at the card Gibson left him. It read, Odeon Agency -established 2061. He looked at his girlfriend and just sighed, ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Ginny.’
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