The Waiting Room

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“Does she know where she is? What is she waiting for?” asked one of the men staring intently through the one-sided glass. On the other side of the glass was a single, white room with a single bench and a single girl sitting patiently on it staring at her feet.

The room that the men were standing in was the opposite of this; it was dark and stuffy, crowded with them all staring intently at her. The men were all in dark suits with unimaginative ties on white shirts.

“I don’t know?” muttered one of them, “But keep watching. Any moment now.”

The men all nodded and leaned closer to the glass, staring at the girl in the white room and waiting.

***

“What are they doing? What are they waiting for?” asked the senior CIA agent staring intently at the monitor. The hacked CCTV feed flickered softly on the screen in front of them with a room full of dark-looking men that were staring at a girl in the adjacent room.

Despite the darkness on their screen, the CIA agents were sitting far away in a breezy high-end office overlooking the city.

“I don’t know? muttered another agent, “But I don’t like it. Not one bit. Any moment now these guys are going to reveal the operation.”

The senior CIA agent nodded and leaned back in his chair with his gaze intently locked on the monitor and the room full of dark, serious-looking men they were watching.

***

“What are they talking about? What are they waiting for? Surely they don’t have one of ours?” asked one of the Russian agents listening intently. The conversation was being broadcast from one of the CIA agents hacked mobile phones, “What room and what people are they talking about, Anastassia? You need to locate this…”

Suddenly, activity broke out in the conversation and the Russian agent leaned closer to the speaker, listening intently before talking on his encrypted short-wave broadcaster.

“You getting this, Anastassia? This is Serge from head office. This is an emergency. Please acknowledge this broadcast…”

***

“What are they saying? Get me some goddamn sound or a lipreader here!” the senior CIA agent exploded, pressing buttons and moving dials while never lifting his eyes from the screen in front of him.

The dark, serious-looking men were a hive of activity. They were all animated, suddenly, waving their arms around in what looked like a big debate. One was screaming at the others and pointing at the girl in the adjacent room.

***

“What did she say? Did any of your fucking mics pick it up?” the dark, serious-looking man was shouting at the other one, “Who is she? Can we get some fucking intelligence in here!”

Another one of the men broke away and began talking urgently on his mobile while the others leaned closer to the one-sided glass and stared even more intently at the girl on the other side of it. She was still staring at her feet, but you could faintly see her lips moving…

“Are you a fucking FBI agent or are you not?” shouted the one that appeared to be charge at the one on his phone, “Get me some working fucking mics that room before the suspect stops talking!”

***

“Yes, Serge,” Anastassia whispered into her lap, trying to hide her gaze from what was obviously a one-sided mirror, “Yes, I understand, but I am currently indisposed. No, I do not know why. And, yes, the moment I am released I will look into what you have found.”

A sub-dermal chip broadcast these whisper up to a secret satellite and then bounced them back around the world.

She held her gaze straight down and kept her feet tightly together. The pressure between her heels activated a jammer that was embedded into her shoe. The jammer was knocking out the mics in this room, but she knew that it was only a matter of time till that did not matter and they confronted her directly.

Her mind was spinning. Serge thought that they had found one of their agents somewhere. She needed to get out of this low-grade FBI compound and rescue them!

But, right now, all she could do was wait.

In the adjacent room, the FBI agents staring at her through the one-way glass carried on waiting. They settled down and fell silent as they continued watching her, their actions filtering back to the CIA office where the agents there sat watching and waiting. Across a cold, frigid ocean, this forced Serge back in the Russian head office to have to sit and wait.

And the world carried on spinning.

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