Academy

Lock and Key

After lunch, we split into our two assigned groups, and went to our respective classrooms. David had saved us two seats in the back, and Felipe sat one row ahead next to an olive skinned girl named Liza Hamin. She turned in her seat, blatantly ignoring David's poor attempts at flirtation as we spoke.

"I would have never imagined ACME taking in such young recruits. How old are you, sixteen?"

"Close." Paul and I were both fifteen, him being older by a few months. "But it's not unheard of. I've been told that some years Training and Talent will scout for younger applicants because they consider us a 'blank slate'."

"Blank slate?" she repeated, eyebrows wrinkling.

"Too young to have any previous employment history in law enforcement, where they might have picked up habits ACME doesn't approve of." David explained. "Matter of fact, too young to have any employment history in general except maybe a summer job at In and Out..."

I rolled my eyes, and the smattering of freckles across his nose danced mischievously.

"I've heard that all classes have something in common, verdad?" Felipe asked, now straddling the chair backwards to join our conversation.

I nodded in agreement. "That's what I'm told. All classes have a common denominator."

Liza tightened her ponytail. "Wonder what it is with us?"

We made small talk for a while, diverting our attention briefly as the rest of our classmates settled in. When it became clear that all twelve of us were present, a slight restlessness rippled through the room. David fidgeted with a leather cord bracelet around his tanned wrist, while Paul glanced at the time on his ACME issued Communicator.

"Do you think it's like college, where if the professor doesn't show up in twenty minutes, we're free to go?" a cheeky redhead by the door inquired aloud with a thick Bronx accent. His question was met with a few laughs, but as a few more minutes passed, the group became more antsy. Felipe began walking aimlessly around the room along with a few others, pausing to look through the small window at the training field below.

"What's up with Amiraj?" David asked, bouncing his leg absentmindedly.

Paul gave his communicator another glance. "It's been a half hour. What do you think, Red?"

I shrugged. I had known the
Instructor to be a no nonsense type of person and figured this to be out of character. Still, there was the off chance that she was pulled into field work, and the Agency could be looking for a temporary fill in, which would explain the delay.

The redhead had torn a leaf out of his notebook with an exaggerated flourish, passing it around for us to sign as attendance. Once he had collected all the signatures, he went towards the door, jiggling the handle a few times and pushing.

"Is it stuck?" Liza questioned, coming over to help him. Her round face wrinkled with effort as she too, wasn't able to open it.
Felipe joined their efforts, the well defined muscles in his shirt tightening as he too, wasn't able to make any headway.

"We're locked in." Liza announced.

"What should we do?" David asked.

"Maybe wait." Paul suggested, in his soft voice. "They know we're here, it's only a matter of time."

His idea was reasonable, but not for a group of investigative minds with a problem to solve. I went towards the front, giving the door a push of my own. It was indeed locked. The redhead joined me with an unfolded paper clip in his hand, but I stopped him.

"Don't bother. All the doors have Bowley locks, totally unpickable. You won't be able to hit all the pins in the tumbler with just that."

"Great." His cheeks were beginning to match his hair. "Now what?"