it’s time for us to think about leaving.”
“Leaving?” asked Olivia. “What do you mean?”
She looked out through the curtains and watched the man and the woman climb into the back of the limo as a driver in dark glasses held the door open for them.
“I mean we should pack up everything and move somewhere far away where nobody knows us. Someplace the children will be safe.”
“I am not about to let those thugs force us out of our home. What kind of message is that for the children— that every time a bully confronts us, we run away? Now, just to be on the safe side I’m going to scramble the code to the LVR, in case it should fall into the wrong hands.”
Ethan watched as his wife hurried off to her study. Maybe she was right, he thought. After all, she usually was. Maybe he was overreacting. Then again, daring to defy high-ranking officials from powerful multinational corporations like Plexiwave could be dangerous.
And, as Ethan would soon find out, it would be dangerous. In fact, it would be deadly.
“Headquarters,” said the thin-lipped woman into her tiny cell phone as the limo sped away from the house.
“Headquarters. Go ahead, Ms. 4.”
“Yes,” said Ms. 4. “I need to speak to Mr. 1 immediately.”
“Right away,” said the woman at the other end.
Ms. 4 rode in silence as she waited a few moments until the deep, whispery voice of Mr. 1 came through the cell phone earpiece.
“Please tell me you were successful, Ms. 4,” said Mr. 1.
“Not at this time, I’m afraid.”
“And why not?”
“It’s the woman,” said Ms. 4. “I believe Mr. Cheeseman could be persuaded eventually. But his wife seems quite opposed to the idea.”
“Then we must do something about that, mustn’t we?” said Mr. 1.
“I understand,” said Ms. 4. “I understand completely.”
Several mornings later, Olivia awoke before the rest of the family and went downstairs to the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee as she did every morning. Actually, to say she awoke before the rest of the family isn’t entirely true, since to awaken you must first be asleep. Anxiety had been keeping Olivia up most nights since the encounter with the large man and the thin-lipped woman.
As the coffee brewed, she walked to the front door to fetch the newspaper. It was still dark outside and, for the first time in her life, she did not feel safe opening the door to her own house. She decided she would read the paper later and sat down to drink her coffee without it.
Not long after finishing her morning coffee, she began to feel ill. As she got the children up and ready for school, it got worse. She had a splitting headache and felt as though she might be running a fever. And so Olivia went off to see the doctor regarding her increasingly painful headache.
She sat in the waiting room, shielding her eyes from the bright fluorescent lights, until her name was called and she was told to wait for the doctor in the examining room. She waited for what seemed like a very long time until suddenly the door swung open and in walked a bald man with large reflective sunglasses and exceedingly shallow cheeks. His bare head glistened with sweat.
“Hello, Mrs. Cheeseman,” he said. “What seems to be troubling you today?”
“You’re not Dr. Spencer,” she said.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with your vision,” the man joked. “Dr. Spencer has gone home sick. Even we physicians aren’t immune to a little sickness now and again.”
With that he chuckled and pulled a tiny flashlight from his pocket.
“I’m Dr. Fiverson,” the man said, shining the small light into each of Olivia’s eyes.
“Dr. Fiverson?”
“Yes, it’s . . . Swedish. Your eyes are very dilated. And you seem to be running a fever. I have just the thing for you.”
The man calling himself Dr. Fiverson moved to the counter and began preparing a hypodermic needle.
“What is that?” Olivia asked.
“Something to help with your migraine,” he
“Leaving?” asked Olivia. “What do you mean?”
She looked out through the curtains and watched the man and the woman climb into the back of the limo as a driver in dark glasses held the door open for them.
“I mean we should pack up everything and move somewhere far away where nobody knows us. Someplace the children will be safe.”
“I am not about to let those thugs force us out of our home. What kind of message is that for the children— that every time a bully confronts us, we run away? Now, just to be on the safe side I’m going to scramble the code to the LVR, in case it should fall into the wrong hands.”
Ethan watched as his wife hurried off to her study. Maybe she was right, he thought. After all, she usually was. Maybe he was overreacting. Then again, daring to defy high-ranking officials from powerful multinational corporations like Plexiwave could be dangerous.
And, as Ethan would soon find out, it would be dangerous. In fact, it would be deadly.
“Headquarters,” said the thin-lipped woman into her tiny cell phone as the limo sped away from the house.
“Headquarters. Go ahead, Ms. 4.”
“Yes,” said Ms. 4. “I need to speak to Mr. 1 immediately.”
“Right away,” said the woman at the other end.
Ms. 4 rode in silence as she waited a few moments until the deep, whispery voice of Mr. 1 came through the cell phone earpiece.
“Please tell me you were successful, Ms. 4,” said Mr. 1.
“Not at this time, I’m afraid.”
“And why not?”
“It’s the woman,” said Ms. 4. “I believe Mr. Cheeseman could be persuaded eventually. But his wife seems quite opposed to the idea.”
“Then we must do something about that, mustn’t we?” said Mr. 1.
“I understand,” said Ms. 4. “I understand completely.”
Several mornings later, Olivia awoke before the rest of the family and went downstairs to the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee as she did every morning. Actually, to say she awoke before the rest of the family isn’t entirely true, since to awaken you must first be asleep. Anxiety had been keeping Olivia up most nights since the encounter with the large man and the thin-lipped woman.
As the coffee brewed, she walked to the front door to fetch the newspaper. It was still dark outside and, for the first time in her life, she did not feel safe opening the door to her own house. She decided she would read the paper later and sat down to drink her coffee without it.
Not long after finishing her morning coffee, she began to feel ill. As she got the children up and ready for school, it got worse. She had a splitting headache and felt as though she might be running a fever. And so Olivia went off to see the doctor regarding her increasingly painful headache.
She sat in the waiting room, shielding her eyes from the bright fluorescent lights, until her name was called and she was told to wait for the doctor in the examining room. She waited for what seemed like a very long time until suddenly the door swung open and in walked a bald man with large reflective sunglasses and exceedingly shallow cheeks. His bare head glistened with sweat.
“Hello, Mrs. Cheeseman,” he said. “What seems to be troubling you today?”
“You’re not Dr. Spencer,” she said.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with your vision,” the man joked. “Dr. Spencer has gone home sick. Even we physicians aren’t immune to a little sickness now and again.”
With that he chuckled and pulled a tiny flashlight from his pocket.
“I’m Dr. Fiverson,” the man said, shining the small light into each of Olivia’s eyes.
“Dr. Fiverson?”
“Yes, it’s . . . Swedish. Your eyes are very dilated. And you seem to be running a fever. I have just the thing for you.”
The man calling himself Dr. Fiverson moved to the counter and began preparing a hypodermic needle.
“What is that?” Olivia asked.
“Something to help with your migraine,” he
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