I feel the food I've eaten rise up in my throat, which could very well be human flesh for all I know. The elite scientists and professors are cannibals! I don't know what's worse, the possibility of me eating it, or the fact that I liked it a little too much.
The panic settles down and I snap a picture with the glasses. This is all the evidence I need and I don't want to spend more time here than necessary.
"How uncouth," I mumble to myself, breaking my girl voice for once. I didn't yell it, but I did say it loud enough for someone to hear. Rapid footsteps come from the back door of the kitchen; a place I didn't even notice. "Time to go!"
I bolt for the exit and clear it in less than two seconds. I throw open the door and slam it shut after I make it out, but something stops me from going on. My dress is caught in the door! I tug desperately, my breathing becoming heavier as the footsteps come closer on the other side.
Finally, with one more heavy pull, I'm loose, and I clumsily stumble away from the door muttering a silent "thank you," that I made it out alive. Rejoining the big crowd of cannibals, I find Clyde pretty easily. I grab his arm in a frantic state and pull him down to my height.
"I got what we need, let's get the hell out of here," I whisper, still using my normal voice.
"Troy, don't break character like that, it's too risky!"
"Who cares!? Let's go!" I demand, my girl's voice returning once again.
"R-right! We'll need to politely check out, or else we'll draw suspicion."
We hold hands on the way to Mendoza, but I keep looking behind my shoulder at the kitchen door. I've got a very bad feeling building up in my stomach.
"Good host Mendoza," Desmond calls out, "I'd like to say what a wonderful gala this is, and my compliments to the caterers as well, but we've got special plans tonight, and we really should get going."
"Ah, I understand. It's a shame that you can't stay just a bit longer, the ceremony starts in just 15 minutes."
Desmond gives a curious look for half a second. "Oh yes, sir. Trust me, I would if I could."
"Right then, until next time," Another firm handshake is exchanged, we're in the clear! We turn towards the exit when another man approaches Mendoza.
"We've got an unwanted guest here," he spoke softly to Raul.
"What!? But how?"
"I don't know, but it's a man."
"How do you know?"
"His voice. There was also this piece of clothing left behind." He presents a black cloth with white lines that looks strikingly familiar to... uh-oh.
I glance over my shoulder and see the big rip in my dress. That's not good. Nope, that's very bad if anything! Clyde sees it too and tugs my hand to hint for a speed walk for the exit. Just keep walking, don't look back, keep walking.
"Excuse me, Desmond!" calls Mendoza.
Clyde looks at me, gets a fire in his eyes, and runs. I don't exactly have the physical capabilities as Clyde, so I often need his help when things go south like this. Though it's not much help with him pulling my arm out of its socket. I could be much faster if I had the chance to remove my high heels.
Our chasers catch up to us quite easily. They grab my arm and pull me back, and the commotion causes the crowd to stir up from their otherwise quiet night. Clyde wastes no time whipping back and fending off our attackers. A single side thrust kick to the man's face was all that it took to get him off me. Hmph, maybe I should go to those hand-to-hand classes at HQ one of these days.
With me free once again, we sprint for the large double doors that are our gate to freedom. We reach for the handles and pull the doors open, only to find out that the bouncer from before is prepared for us. With a gun drawn and aiming for our heads, there is little we are willing to try for an escape plan. I turn back and see the crowd struck with awe, knowing that an outsider has seen what they do behind closed doors. Mendoza steps behind us, effectively walling us in.
"I know who you are now," he begins, "the male voice, the dress, and makeup. People have said to watch out for a certain spy who was too good at his job."
"You flatter me too much," I reply. It's important to keep a cool head during these situations, I can't show that I'm out of ideas.
Mendoza takes another look at me. "Why the dress, Mr. Hearth?"
"You didn't recognize me did you?"
"Fair enough. So, what happens next, agents?"
I look at Clyde, "Now we go home."
Let me explain. The phrase "Now we go home" is a type of safe word that makes specific equipment activate on voice command. Equipment that we either tediously placed around our point of attack, or hidden gadgets located on our person. This one time we used it to make the car explode on a failed mission. But tonight we decided to go with something more traditionally used by spies.
Clyde's tie is carrying a portable EMP behind it, which could only be activated by the safe word. Accompanying his gadget was my flash bangs disguised as normal-looking earrings. Small gadgets mean a small radius, but the baddies are close enough to make them effective.
We both shut our eyes tight to soften the flash on our vision and listen to the stunned reactions of the crowd. The EMP turns off all lights in the room, leaving us with only the moonlight shining through the front door. With everyone both blinded and left in the dark, Clyde gives a heavy punch to the gunman's face, sending him to the floor. His gun skitters across the concrete, and as we run by him I kick it into the grass.
We hear screaming and shouting behind us. I glance behind me to see their progress; they're still stunned beyond comprehensible planning. We pass through the iron gates of the front entrance into the property and run down the sidewalk to find our car right where we left it.
Clyde slides over the hood to get to the driver seat, and I hastily open the passenger door and jump in. He joins me shortly and turns the ignition. I fiddle with the console in the car and notice that none of it is working.
"Crap," I yelled, "the EMP reached out a little further than expected!"
"Dead battery!" Clyde responds, still turning the key. "It's okay, the EMP doesn't last that long."
I turn towards the mansion again and see Mendoza with his gunman approaching the front gate. It's clear by the speed of their pace that their vision has fully returned. They even found the gun I kicked away.
"We got trouble, Clyde!"
"No shit! C'mon, c'mon!" The key turns and turns, and still nothing. I stare at the approaching threat, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the mansion's power return. Clyde turns the key again and the car roars to life. The console turns on, and everything looks okay. I touch the pad of the computer to bring the car's status report. All lights are green!
"Floor it!"
Clyde throws the car into reverse and swivels around the other parked cars. Gunshots are heard close by as they desperately try to pop off a few shots and get lucky. Clyde maneuvers into a J-turn, switches to drive and speeds off down the deserted street. I couldn't help but let out a yelp of joy.
"Woo! My gosh, that was close!"
Clyde breathes in heavily. "Well, I hope you got what we needed. I don't want to have risked my life for nothing."
I turn my attention to the car's console again and touch the pad to maneuver to the photos. A successful sync was made between the glass cam and the hard drive. I gently press my finger against the disturbing photo to bring it up on the monitor placed in the center of the car. Clyde glances at it for only a moment before making a disgusted face and swerving the car a little from the shock value.
He steadies it again and regains his composure. "What the hell!? Is that a human torso!? They're cannibals!?"
"Hey, I'm the one who ate the special stew!"
We reach the traffic-jammed streets and sit rather fidgety, waiting for the lanes to move up. I nervously check the mirrors to see if they were giving chase, but so far it's quiet. We've got a few miles to go until we reach the airport and board the private jet that will take us to our HQ back in Connecticut.
After some more time passed, I finally let myself relax. "It's gonna be a long flight."