By Abigail Falanga
“Judith Wong?” Burke slumped. “You think Judith Wong is a Hungarian spy?”
“It makes perfect sense. Think about it!”
“Ok.” Burke made a show of thinking, then went back to looking weary. “There. Thought about it. It’s still crazy. Judith Wong is the most popular actress in the country, everyone’s favorite starlet. Hers is the best-known face in the world. And you think she’s a spy?”
“And where does being a popular starlet get her? Dinners, fundraisers, invited to the White House. Hobnobbing with politicians, generals, diplomats. Judith Wong has access! She’s been in the vicinity of every incident in the last six months: the Secretary’s assassination, the Harris Plan handoff, and now, the stolen documents. She was right there, in the compound!”
“So were a dozen other people, Sanchez. There’s a lot of overlap on those guest lists.”
“C’mon, Burke. You know I’m right.”
He sighed. “Fine. You’ve got a week to come up with something, but then drop it, okay?”
The instant the bullet hit my shoulder, I knew I was right.
Not slam, and pain. This went on, spread. I could almost feel the nanobots crawl through my veins, could feel the damage they caused.
A SmartRound. Programmed to shatter on impact and attack bone, muscle, vein. Hungarian design. Only Hungarian agents carried them.
“What’d’ya say now, Burke? Huh? Still think I’m crazy?”
I clenched my jaw, dropped my pulse-gun (useless now: one blast and they always need a recharge), and felt in my belt for the syringe. There! I pulled the cap off with my teeth and injected the needle near the injury.
The new pain was worse than the bullet wound. I spit out fragments of the cap and waited until the virus attacked the nanobots and shut them down. It took longer for the secondary painkiller to kick in and I almost blacked out as I stumbled into the house.
Inside. Silence. No buzz of electronics. No alarms. The blast from my pulse-gun had taken care of that.
A week undercover as a maid in Judith Wong’s house had been more than enough. I picked up traces of holographic cells the first day, the kind used to trick video tracking and ID readers. That alone would’ve been enough to bring her in. But just to prove my point, I wanted to recover the stolen documents too.
Earlier today, I finally detected the matrix crystals which stored the docs, pinpointing the location: upstairs lounge. Ms. Wong was at a red-carpet event until one o’clock. Tonight was my chance.
I wadded up a table-runner and pressed it against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. My left arm was useless. I’d need medical attention soon.
“Burke!” I whispered, knowing backup was within a mile. “I’m in, but I’ve been shot. Get medics, will you?”
Silence.
“Burke?”
I touched the implant-phone. Nothing. Either the pulse had blown it, or the nanobots. I was on my own.
“I’ll be fine.” I breathed. “Get the docs, get out. The safe is shielded, and she’s got to have a radio or something in there. I’ll call for help on that…”
Apparently, I still talk to myself.
I crept through the dark house, forcing myself to stop at every corner, watch, wait, listen. I couldn’t get caught. It wasn’t deserted. There were people around, somewhere, asleep hopefully. Don’t wake them…
What about the shot?
Someone had fired, from inside but using a suppresser, just after I blasted the house. Someone was still around, and dangerous. Was Judith Wong at home after all? Back early? Never left?
I reached the lounge, sweat sliding down my face, and looked along the wall for–
There. Metal, disguised to appear like wood, but obviously a safe now that the hologram was inactive.
Fumbling, I secured the lock-breaker in place, began to work out combinations and biometrics.
“Come on, come on! Don’t waste time. Somebody must’ve felt the pulse, or heard something, or…”
At last! A click, and the door slid aside. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh gosh!”
I spun around, a second after, light flickered against the wall.
It was Ms. Wong’s assistant, the curly-haired, bubbly Kinzey, ever efficient, ever at her side. Holding a candle.
“The housekeeper!?” she gasped, wide-eyed at the gun in my hand.
“It’s okay,” I said, lowering the gun. “I’m FBI.”
“Um… Rosa, right? But what are you doing in here? I don’t understand! The cooler stopped and the system wasn’t responding to voice-command, so…”
“Do you love your country?” I slurred.
That didn’t make sense, even to me. So, I went on, explaining too much because I needed her to trust me. “There’s something in this safe that could do serious damage to the U.S., maybe cause the death of thousands, and I have to get it back. We believe that Ms. Wong is an agent working for Hungarian Intelligence.”
“No. That’s terrible!” Kinzey came forward, glancing from the safe to me. “Oh! You’re bleeding! Should I call 911?”
“No. I was shot, but I need to get this, and I need you to help me. Is Ms. Wong home?”
Kinzey looked around. “I don’t think so. You think she’s a spy? That’s awful! But… I guess it would explain a few things.”
I wanted to ask what kind of things. After all, the assistant went everywhere with Judith Wong, was always at hand to—
Oh.
“It was you!” I said, thinking it out aloud, like an idiot. “You’re the spy. You went everywhere Judith Wong went—every function, every dinner, every party. Burke was right–being a famous actress is a terrible cover, with everyone’s eyes always on her. But being a famous actress’ assistant would give you an in everywhere, and no one would ask questions, because you’re invisible…”
Kinzey no longer looked surprised and innocent. She half smiled, a gun in her hand.
We both lunged at the safe.
Another shot rang out.
“Huh,” I muttered before blackness took me. “Burke to the rescue.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I like the premise and hints of a futuristic world. I’m curious, though. What would make Hungary, of all countries, want to assassinate a secretary?
Thanks!
Hungary was simply the first country to come to mind. America is at we with Hungary in this future, so it would be in their interest to assassinate the Secretary of Defense (or State, or of some military branch…)!
Ah, I see. It’s interesting to see an ordinarily overlooked country, as opposed to China or Russia, play a role in a futuristic story. Why would Hungary go to war with America? The two countries don’t have anything to fight over currently, although that could change in the future.
Agh, I loved the twist at the end!
Yay! I’m glad the twist worked out!
(Author speaking, by the way 😊)
Dang, I did not see that twist coming. And I really enjoyed the different bits of technology you incorporated!
Thanks! It’s reassuring that the tech parts work, with so little space to explain anything!