But I can’t stay here, either. Every time he leaves his partner somewhere, they get captured. And there’s nowhere to hide out here.
Dammit!
Elliot eased down between Anthony’s legs, careful to keep some distance between their bodies.
Anthony sighed heavily, wrapped his arm around Elliot, and pulled him in close. Elliot let out a high-pitched whimper as his back made full-contact with Anthony, from his chest to his stomach to his groin.
Elliot tried very, very, very hard not to think about the way Anthony’s groin felt against his ass. Which was nice.
No! Not nice! Not anything!
“Better aerodynamics this way,” explained Anthony, a low voice in Elliot’s ear. Why did his voice sound so sultry when it was pitched that low?
Why did Elliot have to like it?!?!
“Oh, sure, of course,” said Elliot, wishing his voice didn’t squeak as much. He adjusted his glasses. “Okay, so when do we—aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Elliot’s scream echoed down the dunes. The sled moved fast, but it was far from the smoothest ride. They bounced and rocked back and forth, going airborne more than three or four times, and Elliot gripped the edges of the sled so tightly he couldn’t feel his fingers. The only reason he didn’t fall off was because of Anthony’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close.
And fuck if Anthony didn’t smell good, even after the explosion and the ride through the desert. Elliot couldn’t place the scent, only that he liked it. Not that it was the least bit appropriate, and he filed the information away for later because he was too busy watching his life flash before his eyes. Again.
It ended very suddenly, at the bottom of the dune where Elliot saw a chain-link fence. No chance for a gentle glide to a stop—nope, the fence would undoubtedly slice them into neat little square blocks as they barreled on through.
Elliot tried not to hyperventilate. “We’re going to be sliced into pieces if we don’t stop!”
“That only happened once!” said Anthony, continuing to misunderstand how comforting phrases worked. But he moved his arm from Elliot’s torso, and pointed it straight at the fence.
There was a loud buzzing sound as the laser shot straight out of Anthony’s multi-function watch, neatly cutting an opening in the chain link. Anthony and Elliot’s sled glided smoothly through the still-sizzling archway before skidding to a stop just beside the closest building.
Elliot tumbled over into the sand, sputtering and gasping as he checked his pulse and all of his limbs.
“We didn’t die,” he said, shocked.
Anthony was already rolling up the sled. “Quickly now, before the guard comes by.”
“You don’t think they’ll notice the hole in the fence?”
“Not if you go over there and lean the cut section up against it, no.”
Elliot glanced overhead. There were a lot of lights, sure—but strangely enough, none pointed at the fence line. Instead, they focused on Cicero’s symbol, as well as the various doors leading into the buildings. The walkways were also illuminated.
By contrast, the area surrounding the fence was dark. A guard who wasn’t paying attention probably would miss a hole, especially if someone made even half an effort in concealing it.
Elliot set to the task, his fingers shaking with nerves. But there weren’t any alarms, or flashing lights, or shouts telling him to freeze.
We really did sneak into Cicero’s facility, he thought with amazement. And here I thought Anthony was exaggerating about the security!
There was a keypad by the door; Anthony had already connected his tablet and was typing at the encryption app to break in. Elliot glanced around while he waited. He barely saw the fence line, not from under the bright lights by the door. No wonder no one ever saw Anthony break into Cicero’s facilities.
The door opened with a hiss. Anthony smiled in satisfaction, before motioning to Elliot to follow him inside.
Yeah, like I’d really stay out here!
The hallway lights were low, but bright enough to see. Anthony moved silently; Elliot tried, but his shoes squeaked immediately on the shiny concrete floor, earning a death-glare from Anthony.
“Sorry,” whispered Elliot.
Anthony rolled his eyes and kept walking, glancing from side to side. Elliot did, too, surprised that every door was clearly marked with a room number and a brief description of its use. Janitorial Closet. Office Supplies. Uniform Storage. Sheep Food.
“Perfect,” said Anthony finally, and pulled Elliot into a room marked Employee Lounge.
“Are you—oh thank goodness, there’s a bathroom,” gasped Elliot, leaving his apprehension aside at the prospect of a toilet.
Elliot was too busy to notice the design of the employee lounge’s restroom in Cicero’s super-secret research base until he was washing his hands with a manly-smelling French-milled soap. The bathroom was surprisingly gorgeous, with several floral arrangements, a selection of fancy hand-soaps, sanitizers, and lotions on display next to the sink. A mountain of fluffy white hand towels waited on the counter, with a hamper for the dirty towels underneath. There were three stalls, each with full-length doors, and a much smaller door that when Elliot peeked inside, proved to be a tiny closet full of cleaning supplies.
“Anthony,” he said as he came out, “have you seen this bathroom?”
“Has he restocked the sandalwood lotion?”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Cicero uses the same supplies for all his bases. Here.” Anthony turned from the open refrigerator and tossed Elliot a banana. “This should be safe enough. Some of these containers are probably older than me.”
“I can’t eat a stolen banana! That’s someone’s lunch!”
“Suit yourself. There’s a snack machine in the corner, but then you’re just funding the enemy.”
Elliot rolled his eyes. “You’re a secret agent, and you haven’t learned how to hack a snack machine?”
Two minutes later, a feast waited on the table—or as close as what a snack machine could provide. Anthony munched on some beef jerky while studying the fire escape route guide, which was probably the best map of the facility that Elliot had ever seen.
Elliot read the noticeboard next to the snack machine while he peeled his banana. Half the board was cork, with all the typical notices one expected to see. The other half was a whiteboard, with several magnetized markers attached. Evil Plan Ideas—Best Idea Gets a gift card! A few were scratched out, but Elliot read the rest with increasing amounts of disbelief.
Destroy all the world’s kelp. (Yusef from accounting)
Virus that erases everyone’s Contact Lists in their phones. (Nikolai from R&D)
Autocorrect changes everything to sexual innuendo. (Seb from Security)
Brainwash everyone into remembering a movie that doesn’t exist. (Goncharov, HR)
Elliot shook his head. “Is he serious?” he wondered aloud.
Then again, one of the crossed-out ideas was Nuclear-powered robots masquerading as puppies; give each to a world leader, detonate. Elliot had the sinking feeling that idea might have worked; he noted who’d suggested it (Andy in the motor pool) and resolved to keep an eye on them.
“Hmm?” asked Anthony, still examining the fire escape plan.
“Please tell me you haven’t heard of anyone handing free puppies to world leaders.”