The Enthusiasts

6

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it." – Helen Keller

Sasha was appraising the values of the two men left alive on the observation deck of Raven's Tower. Both were stunned with terror, watched their opposition's movements closely. Her dainty finger pressed against her lips was powerful enough to subdue the urge they had to announce their critically grave condition to the voice that rang out through the Conference Room's comm network. Sasha's disclosed prowess as a highly dangerous one-woman wrecking crew had not gone far enough to prepare or protect the men and woman charged with hauling her into Spectra's custody. The two guards were left clinging to some hope of compassion she may have somewhere deep inside to spare their lives. Watching her dispatch their team of colleagues in the blink of an eye appeared inhuman to the last survivors. Their attacker seemed to possess a supernatural awareness around where objects were positioned without the aid of any of the five known human senses. The pistol's barrel was still smoldering as the discharged bullet casings were seen scurrying about, rolling in tightening circles over the polished, shadow-mirrored marble floor. After a moment of silence Sasha spoke up, with her voice trying to resemble something attune to what the passing Dr. Barter had sounded like before her recent execution. Sasha kept careful watch on her two prisoners while she sniffed up some liquid that had oozed out of her nostrils during the ordeal.

Through the ceiling of the conference room the voice repeated its looming question: "Dr. Barter?... Are you there? Could you tell me when the room will be free?"

Sasha's response came firmly and quickly, "Yes, we're deep in session here. We should be out of the room in the next ninety minutes. Until then, just keep the floor clear, please. We are having some real breakthroughs."

A silence followed that continued to make everyone uncomfortable in their set positions. Goon Number Three was flipping back and forth with regret over his decision to keep quiet. Something was telling him to just shout out the situation at hand, or pull his gun to return fire while she was distracted... but instead everyone waited impatiently for a response from the talking ceiling.

A beep sounded, "Yes, thank you. We will keep the floor clear for the next hour and a half. Let us know if you need anything." The man on the other end of the line sounded as eager as Sasha was to terminate the call. Another beep signaling the end of the transmission was heard.

Sasha ripped Russell's key ring off his stiffening body and immediately tossed the set across the floor while both men locked sights on the numerous jagged metal-toothed lifelines sliding along the slick tiles before coming to rest with a knock against the back of the thick mahogany door, the only exit. Sasha pivoted, turning to face the two guards again before calmly stating her instructions: "Stand up and open the door, please."

Both guards immediately reacted by tentatively charging toward the set of keys, yet they somehow yawned around them, hunched over like the first kids to hit the ground after a spilling piñata while the blindfolded paper-basher was still in full swing behind them. The man on the left was the first to grab the keys and he shook while fumbling under the pressure to guess at the right one to unlock the door. The feeling of her eyes burning a hole in the back of his head was as searing as any live bullet. Sasha unlocked her leg shackles and the connected side of her handcuffs in short order, discarding them next to Russell's lifeless body. The large door opened inward and the two guards immediately darted out into the curved windowed hallway leading back to the cell doors and their freedom.

"What are you doing?!" Sasha's hard tone echoed against the hall's layered glass and concrete, mingling with the hard-stepping thick rubber-soled utility boots the men wore. Her call stopped both men in their tracks as they quietly shrieked to a halt, closing their eyes, expecting their lives to end then and there in that hallway above all the world's problems. Neither guard knew why they'd taken off running as soon as the door opened. Captain Right-Side had wanted to take a shot at swinging the doors shut and locking her out before they split, while Captain Left-Side had thought of taking a shot at her with his pistol drawn while she was working on her leg shackles, but again, fear had consumed them both and left neither plan tested. They just ran for their lives before being called back to work by their new overlord. There were no accessible stairwells in the tower, only the lone elevator shaft at the end of the hall. No one to call out to. Their best option was to listen to her in hopes of receiving some previously unseen act of mercy.