“Now that business is done, why
don’t we head to the big one, hmm?” Marc asks.
I take a deep breath in and exhale
loudly. “Let’s do it.”
The hallway only goes one way, and
it leads to a large door. Marc pushes it open with a creak, and we find
ourselves in an extremely large room, with a glass wall at the opposite end,
and a long table that extends from where we stood to the glass wall. There were
three chairs at the opposite end, and in one of the chairs sat a man in a grey
suit.
The man gets up and walks towards
us, and I carefully analyze the man we will be speaking with in a short few
moments.
He looks like he’s in his
late-40s, with a few crease lines and thinning hair. His face is not unkind, but
it’s hardened. He looks quite a bit older than Bronson, and seems much more
refined. When he reaches us, I realize he’s only a bit taller than I am.
“You must be my next meeting. My
pleasure to meet you…” he looks at us slightly quizzically.
“Mr. and Mrs. Andrews,” inputs
Marc. “And the pleasure is all mine, assuredly.”
Mr. Sharpo seats himself at the
end of the table while Marc and I sit across from each other.
“So, what is it you’d like to
confront me about?” asks Mr. Sharpo pleasantly.
“Before we can start, may I ask if
there are any security cameras, or bugs within this vicinity?” I pipe in.
“Not for this one. It’s much too
dangerous to have something that can easily be hacked into in a room like this.
And we must keep our meetings top secret.”
I sit back satisfied. I can now
talk freely. “We have some questions regarding the epidemic.”
Mr. Sharpo smiles at me. “Everyone
does. But how may I help you? This must be important if you have an appointment
with me.”
“Very well,” says Marc. “What do
you think of the theory that your bosses, the government, could possibly be
behind the epidemic?”
I stare at Marc. “Dear! That is
not an appropriate thing to say!” This is not supposed to be part of the plan!
What is he thinking?
Mr. Sharpo’s face furrows into a
frown. “Well,” he says seriously. “I know that theory isn’t just a rumour. It’s
true.”
I nearly jump out of my seat. “Mr.
Sharpo, are you saying that—“
“The very people who are supposed
to be helping are the ones who are harming? Yes.” says Mr. Sharpo gravely.
“Then why can’t you stop it?” Marc
asks. “You hold a seat of power, why can’t you use it?”
“How I wish I could,” sighs Mr.
Sharpo. “Unfortunately, I’m powerless with Bronson in control.”
“How so?” I interject. Something
has to be up to silence this man.
“He is an ally of the cause. He
believes he will become even more powerful if the plan works out.” He shakes
his head in despair. “If I was still head, I’m sure many of the deaths would
not have happened.”
“You were head?” asks Marc,
disbelieving.
“Yes, don’t look so surprised! I
was taken out by the government and replaced by Bronson.” He spits Bronson’s
name, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Mr. Sharpo leans back. He
glances at us, and asks, “You two aren’t reporters, right?
“No, of course not. This is
a…personal cause.” I take off my glasses and fiddle with them.
“Ah, someone important, right?”
Mr. Sharpo nods. “My wife died. To make sure I was obedient, and didn’t say a
word out of place.” He smiles sadly, and a single tear slid down his cheek.
I lean over and pat him on the
shoulder, trying to keep in all of my own tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for something
that wasn’t your fault, Kaya. It was going to happen as soon as I knew about
the plot.”
He just said my name. Oh god.
BAM! twist! tell me what you guys think so far, and be sure to comment!
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