The Chemist

Chapter 10

April 18th, 11:00 p.m. The Bronx, New York City

This chapter is dedicated to Johnethengert, the second wattpadder to read the entire story.

Safe houses were typically dark, dank and musty places with high ceilings where on occasion, certain unnamed activities occurred that would call into question American Intelligence's adherence to due process. Danny stood across the street opposite the entrance to the location he was given—131 Claremont Avenue in the Bronx. When he received the text, he walked through the warped and smudged double glass doors which looked as if they hadn't been wiped down in over twenty years. They slammed shut behind him like a vault.

The chance to cut and run was no longer available. The deserted lobby's black and white checkerboard linoleum floor was littered with garbage and lit by two red exit signs over metal doors on opposite sides. It was dingy, dust-covered and deserted. The scent of an unidentifiable mold found his nostrils and made him wince. Toward the rear, he saw one tarnished elevator door. Beyond that was a wall with a heavy metal door. The only modern piece of equipment he could identify was the camera protruding from the ceiling, its glassy, black semi-globe panned back and forth, and its blinking red light unceasing.

After about five minutes, the door opened and a fair skinned woman with flaming red hair tied back into a ponytail and wearing jeans and button down collared shirt motioned him inside. With a bright smile, as if she was shepherding around a celebrity, she said, "Hi, I'm Lindsey. We've been expecting you, Mr. Strong."

He entered into a cavernous warehouse room that was totally empty save for some folding chairs and a lone table. Four long rows of spotlight racks sat high above, indicating prior industrial use. On the right side of the room from where he stood, two small offices with windows faced out onto the main floor. An enclosed office hovered above them on a mezzanine with two elongated picture windows, not unlike those of a maternity ward.

"Hey! Do you know you have the same name as that guy who was on—"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Yeah, I get that a lot," he said. "But I'm a bit taller."

She chuckled. "Wait here, Mr. Strong," she instructed and walked through an inner door and out of sight.

Really? Like I have a choice?

Actually he did but the calling to serve his country that had lain dormant for so long had reemerged, guiding his decisions. Within a minute, she entered through a door from one of the lit offices and approached him, walking tall, wearing navy blue pants and a white blouse with the customary matching blazer. Behind her followed Javi and Lindsey.

"It's good to see you again, Danny."

"Good to see you again, too," he said with guarded interest. "So, what's this all about? You know I haven't been in the game for a long time."

"True. We all thought we'd lost you."

And no one thought to look me up. "Joanne," he started. He really wanted to say, Fuck you but professionalism won out.

Joanne extended her arm, palm facing out to silence him. "We need to keep moving, just you and me." She motioned to the exit door.

She shuttled him out of the warehouse where a black Cadillac SUV with tinted windows was waiting for them. Lindsey and Javi entered in the front, Joanne and Danny the rear. As the car made its way out to the street, they sat in the back seat, both looking straight ahead, both silent.

Joanne broke the uneasy lull. "I know it's been a long time since we've been in touch."

He stared out the window at more warehouses lying silent and vacant in the night.