If only things were less complicated.
Jacob Shields sighs as he looks at his computer screen and tugs at his hair. It's already 8 in the morning and he has been up all night in his cold Boston apartment room. He scrolls through the files he's been remotely sorting on his government-issued laptop when something suddenly catches his eye.
CLASSIFIED.
He clicks on the folder. On the screen, it flashes;
Federal Bureau of Investigation. Please enter the password.
He sighs. He stretches his arms and takes a sip of coffee.
Classified government database. Is it worth it? His effort, his FBI badge, and the possibility of years behind bars if he gets caught run through his mind. The chief is definitely going to kill him. But having spent almost half of his life searching, it must be worth it, especially now that he's finally this close.
Snippets of a disturbing memory from the past threaten to surface. His hands shake as a drop of sweat drips down his brow. He takes a deep breath and does what he does best. He shuts it all out and puts the memory in a box that's inside another box and throws it to the back of his mind. Compartmentalizing and all that. And with a couple of strokes on the keyboard, he breaks into the database. He is in.
"Alright, let me see...Associates folder. NORAD. NATO. G7... Watchers."
As he clicks on the Watchers folder, the screen suddenly flashes;
PLEASE ENTER THE PASSWORD.
"Ah! Double encryption. Okay, challenge accepted. Let's do some more magic tricks..."
He cracks his knuckles and types in a series of codes on the computer keyboard. The screen suddenly displays an inverted triangle with a hint of the letter "W", which looks familiar to him. It sends shivers to his spine.
A mother lode of files suddenly populates the screen. He scrolls down the sea of database executables and out of the blue sees the file, "Holdings.xdb". He clicks on it and a long list of company names and institutions appears on the screen. Banks, hotels, supermarkets, government properties, you name it. But one data entry caught Jake's attention,
Littlewood Orphan Home, Maine.
"Didn't know orphanages are still a thing? The last one closed in the 60s the last time I checked."
He squints his eyes as he looks at one column where it reads, "Units for Processing". It seems like the Watchers organization is up to something sinister with the kids in that orphanage. Or is it even an orphanage at all?
It almost tempted him to look further, but he needs to find something else much more important. He needs to find her.
Helen Lockhart. She is the reason for all this.
He closes the database and continues his search for that file that would provide information about Helen. Back to the seemingly unending list of confidential data. He yawns, wondering if he's building an immunity to the coffee he's drinking, and then he sees it;
Wulvens.xdb
A surge of energy suddenly flowed into his veins. This should be it. He clicks on the file.
"Protectors, Sleepers, Rogues...wow.", he mutters to himself as he browses the data file.
Upon typing in "Lockhart" and clicking on the search button, a detailed agent profile pops up on the screen.
Helen Franklin Lockhart.
Jackpot. It's her alright. She hasn't aged a bit since he first saw her. And she has a whole document all to herself. Jake sees pictures of her doing basic daily stuff and he's amazed at the amount of surveillance they have on her. It's insane.
"Control number; W1214... Species; Homo Khimaerus, Subspecies; Wulven. Current Status; Rouge. Goes by different names; Aubrey Johnsons, Cassey Smith, and now, Rita O'Harra.", Jake mutters as he reads her profile.
"Traveling between states from 1991 to 2021...and currently working at Diners Den Bistro in Maine. Well, that's just a couple of hours from here."
Across the file, it reads, "Neutralize on sight".
At the bottom of the screen is a footnote on a certain Elizabeth Lockhart. He clicks on the hyperlinked text. A profile pops up on the screen.
"Control number; For Processing...estimated age; seventeen years old...Subspecies; Wulven. Definitely Helen's daughter."
Jake's eyes squint as he looks on further.
"No pictures? Hmm, let me see...status; For Recond? What does that even mean? And the current location...unknown."
He scrolls down further and almost spits out his coffee as he reads the words under it typed in bold, red letters,
Pursue retrieval operations on sight.
"So the Watchers are after her as well. Good thing she's still off their radar."
Jake quickly jots down the exact coordinates for Helen's current whereabouts. He needs to get to her before they get their hands on her and Elizabeth. He grabs the hoodie hanging at the back of his desk chair and the keys by the door.
He storms out of his apartment and jumps into the warm leather driver's seat of his baby, a blue vintage 1971 SS350 Camaro with stylized stripes on the hood. He starts the ignition, loving the rumble it makes beneath him. Jake and his friend Billy restored it to the beauty it is today, having bought it from the junk shop. He loves every single inch of it so much, it's not even funny. But right now, he needs to put his car obsession aside and focus on that one thing;
Find Helen.
© 2021 C.J. Gracie Publishing. All Rights Reserved.
Comments (0)
See all