The Littlest Spy

Light on the factory floor was mostly from the faint glow of furnaces, or some complex chemical process. Occasionally, the flicker of welding caused the shadows to shift for a couple of seconds before darkness returned. The machines didn’t need light to work by. The shadows seemed alive, writhing in the corners and clinging to every surface. Narrow metal catwalks lined the perimeter, suspended precariously over a sprawling industrial space. Below the walkways, massive stainless steel vats brewed and distilled mysterious chemical concoctions, bubbly liquids gurgling as gases percolated up through them. Steam rose in wispy tendrils, collecting under the catwalks and obscuring the view across the cavernous hall.

A figure walked along down below, a flashlight casting to either side. Maybe a janitor or night guard inspecting the place. The days when a site like this would have required hundreds of workers to keep it going were long gone. Now, the only serious tasks were making sure that none of the machines had warning lights lit, and that there was nobody here who wasn’t supposed to be. The last intruder had been a rat, found nesting in the ductwork a month before. People were still talking about it.

On the gantry above, if you looked from just the right angle, you might have noticed a couple of shadows looking a little more organic than the latticework of steel and concrete. A really careful observer, if they waited long enough, might have seen those shadows moving again after a long, cautious pause. Two figures, scurrying across a catwalk while keeping low to the ground so they couldn’t be seen from below. The larger one went first, moving with a quiet confidence, while the frustration of the second was clear in the way that it moved.

Their footsteps didn’t make a sound even on the metal gantry, and the distant man on the ground was completely unaware of them as he continued surveying some of the industrious machines. As they came to the middle of the catwalk they moved more nervously; exposed in the open space, with sheer drops on either side down to the chemical basins simmering stories below. Reaching an intersection, the taller figure paused, broad shoulders backlit by the eerie green glow of a monitor as he peered down each possible path. His muscular frame was obvious even through his dark utilitarian clothes.

Beside him, the smaller figure froze as someone else’s footsteps started to shake the steel beneath their feet. Their slim build was almost lost in the oversized utility uniform they wore, and they stood with a tension that said flight was an option at any moment. With a few quick hand signals, the partner indicated a patrol emerging from the left passage. Another gesture pointed towards a place where the computer terminal at the side of the walkway – maybe all the buttons to shut down the machines below in case someone were to fall – could conceal them from whoever was generating a more prominent set of footsteps. The smaller figure was moving back already, desperate to hide before they were discovered.

But the larger man didn’t retreat. His head turned back and forth as if considering multiple options when there was only one sane choice available. With a sudden burst of speed he charged forward into the intersecting catwalk, directly toward the oncoming guards. A dozen panicked shots ricocheted in the darkness, nowhere near their target as they reacted in pure surprise. The brute’s bellow inspired terror before he crashed into them with the force of a freight train. They had guns, but those were no use against a figure within arm’s length, ignoring his own sidearm and swinging a length of steel pipe around his head. A fierce brawl ensued, but the guards had never signed up for this kind of conflict and their reflexes simply weren’t fast enough.

As three uniformed figures tumbled to the ground, one of them rolling over the side of the catwalk, the fourth member of the team just about managed to back away far enough to bring his rifle to bear. But he didn’t reckon with the second figure rising up behind him out of nowhere and tightening a cord around his neck. Seconds later he fell to the ground unconscious.

The smaller intruder cringed at the reckless frontal attack, but was smart enough to know there was no sense in complaining about what had already happened. There had been so much noise in the fight, and the sound of gunfire was sure to attract even more security. They needed to complete their mission as quickly and quietly as possible.

With a shudder, the slight figure pulled a security access card from the pocket of the nearest guard. They just needed to get to the records room, and they might just have time before more reinforcements arrived. Smoke was rising at the side of the vast chamber in any case, and there was an acrid smell in the air. There was more light now, an amber flickering glow, and it didn’t take a genius to guess that one of the vats on the far side of the hall could have been ignited by a stray bullet.

“Thanks,” the larger figure grunted, and then kept on walking in the direction they had been moving. He didn’t bother to keep low, focusing on speed now that stealth was off the table.

“Subtle as always, Dash,” his partner sighed, stepping over another fallen guard.

“We don’t need subtle, Ghost. We get the job done.” He was already at the door of the records room, seemingly oblivious to the growing flames and smoke on the far side of the facility. A few seconds later his partner joined him and swiped the purloined keycard to get the door open.

The records room was darker than the factory floor; there was no flicker of industrial processes here, and one computer screen in the corner was showing an endless montage of security footage from different parts of the facility. Right now, it showed a considerable number of running men with weapons, in between shots of more uniformed figures trying without success to stop a roaring blaze.

Brock stared at the screen for a moment, and then flicked the lights on. Fluorescent tubes buzzed into life, one of them flickering intermittently. While he stood a little way back from the doorway, expecting more intruders, his partner dashed straight towards one of the server racks and plugged in a ruggedised laptop.

A uniformed figure burst into the room, and was efficiently rendered unconscious. Brock barely broke a sweat.

“How long’s this gonna take?” he asked. “Organised resistance will be here any minute.”

“That’s why we were supposed to avoid the guards until we’re here. I bypassed the encryption, just need to finish downloading the files. Guess there’s no point covering out tracks now.” He focused intently on the screen while a progress bar ticked across. “Shouldn’t be long. But have you thought how we’re going to get out of here? They’re not going to–”

A sound like distant thunder rocked the building, and the floor shuddered beneath their feet. The security monitor showed scenes of utter chaos from the cameras that were still working. The acrid smell of chemicals flooded the hallway. Brock laughed loudly.

“That’ll keep ’em occupied! Explosions have a way of grabbing your attention. C’mon, let’s hustle.“

“Right!” The smaller figure sighed, hands flying across the keys. His voice didn’t betray any surprise that their mission had turned out this way; but it was clear that he was longing for a break. Moments later the computer signalled it was ready, and two figures were again running along catwalks as more explosions rocked the building. Dash was right about one thing: The guards had bigger things to worry about than two running figures.

Nina leaned against the bars enclosing her, trying to make out signs of anything interesting in the rest of the room. There were other girls out there, she was sure, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to any of them yet. She could hear the sound of crying, which made her a little apprehensive about what might happen to her if she couldn’t find a way out of this strange place. But she didn’t really understand this place; her jailors had only ever told her what they wanted her to do, never going into why. But she could see the shape of it, and she told herself that she wanted no part of it; shutting down any hormonal fantasies that weren’t rooted in the real world. She twisted the ring on her finger, hoping that Victor would come to rescue her soon. They hadn’t taken the ring away; that must mean there was still a chance, mustn’t it?

She didn’t understand the chain of events that had brought her here. They were supposed to be spending a couples weekend at a luxury spa. It would have been one of the high points of her time with him; although their whole engagement so far had seemed to be nothing but a string of high points, and the house had been nothing to laugh at either. But… But now she wasn’t at a spa. She was trapped in this weird, creepy space god-knew how many stories below ground, where nobody would ever be able to find her. And she didn’t have the first clue what the people here were planning to do with her. She couldn’t escape; the bars were more than just ornamental. So all she could do was hope that Victor would come to look for her sooner or later.

Footsteps approached before two figures in white-and-blue uniforms reached her enclosure. This was a familiar routine as well. She recognised the taller figure, a woman who had introduced herself as Claudine when they first met. She was probably in charge, because the was the only person Nina had seen wearing a name badge in here, and in fact the only person whose name she had known in the last week. The other person was just there to provide muscle; nameless, and interchangeable. They never said Nina’s name either; though she had no idea whether they actually didn’t knew it, or just knew how much dehumanising her added to the emotional impact of this experience.

“Time to eat, sweetie,” Claudia said with a sadistic smirk. Nina cowered back, knowing what was coming and also acutely aware that it was her own fault. She had refused to eat on her first day here, wanting to show that there were some things she was still in control of. They had proved her wrong. On the second day she had been given another chance to prove that she was willing to go along with the programme; but she had been too stubborn. They wouldn’t give her the choice again. And the knowledge that she had wasted a tiny sliver of freedom on something so petty only reminded her – every time she thought about it – that she would have more freedom if she did what she was told in future.

The man beside Claudine responded to her glare by turning and fiddling with the locks for a moment. Then there were no bars between her and freedom, just two people larger and stronger than her. They picked her up without any apparent effort, and carried her between them. She was going to get breakfast now, and it was clear that she had no choice in the matter. She didn’t bother to fight, she knew that there was no point. And her new compliance earned a smile and a pat on the head, along with a few reassuring words about what a good girl she was. Nina found herself blushing, surprised by how quickly she had gotten used to this treatment. She didn’t say anything as they deposited her on the chair, and set about strapping her in so that she couldn’t escape even if she thought there might be some chance of finding her way up to the surface through this labyrinth.

A rubbery bulb was forced between her lips and Nina knew better than to fight it. A moment later there was warm sweet liquid filling her mouth, and she had no choice but to swallow. And despite her fear, she found herself somehow feeling not entirely afraid in this situation. Sure, she was trapped with no suggestion of when she would get out. But they weren’t actually hurting her, and so long as she did everything they wanted, she would be pretty comfortable. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

After Claudine and her assistants had left the room, Nina still never felt like she was alone. She didn’t know that there was a doctor watching her on a video monitor; but there was something about the decor that made it feel like she had no privacy at all. It was the kind of place where there would always be someone watching.

She swallowed again, feeling the warm liquid running down her throat. It was actually pretty nice, if she just didn’t think about the situation, or her lack of choice in all of this. And it was easy not to think as she drank more. She found her thoughts getting fuzzier, and everything starting to blur. A minute later she would have been smiling, but for the bulb dispensing medicine into her mouth. And a little after that, she wasn’t thinking anything at all.

Nina didn’t hear the conversation between Claudine and Dr Renault, commenting on how well she was progressing, or how soon she would be ready. And even if she had heard, she wouldn’t have been able to comprehend long words like “conditioning”. But that didn’t matter at all; it felt so good to just suck, drink, and smile.