Chapter 187

187 Information

It was lunch the next day, and most of my day consisted of just my regular classes. Greg’s friends were of a very peculiar type-one minute talking about football and then the next second, chatting about the best fried chicken from KFC or something.

Clearly, it was gonna be hard to make a full conversation with them, but at least Greg is somewhat of an anchor. One thing about Greg is that he can continue a conversation out of nothing. You could be talking about your favorite color and soon enough, a whole debate would arise in front of your very own eyes.

If only that was me.

But right now, this mission to stop Dr. Mord was the only thing that we should be talking about. Mr. Drails was going to be notified about this, and it was only a matter of time before this was a mission.

As I got my food from the long line, I let them scan my ID and immediately began to search for Greg, and possibly Tisiah, if he was there again. I scanned the area, and enhanced on Tisiah and Greg on the far left of the cafeteria.

I walked over towards them as I sat down, and with no time to waste-I asked, “So have you told Mr. Drails yet?”

“The FMA are notifying him right now I hope,” Greg responded, chewing his food while he continued to eat it.

I nodded in agreement as I watched the food come down the line. It wasn’t as good as Mom’s food, but it was pretty good for cafeteria food. “So any new information?” Tisiah asked Greg. His eyes lit up as he put his chicken down. “Yes, I do,” Greg countered, as he reached for a slice of lemonade. “The FBI has decided to send in their special agents to help us on this mission.”

“That’s good news,” I said, taking a sip of the water I was given. “We should have support then.”

.....

“But here’s the catch, we won’t know who they are until they get here,” Greg said. “That means we may have to deal with an entire group of new people who we don’t know.”

“That’s true, but we’ve got Tisiah,” I said, nodding at him. “And we got Nikki and September and even Malachi. One question, are you gonna be on scene with us whenever we do stuff?”

Greg shook his head. “I’d be on the radio, because originally this was given to the FMA to solve, but you know how the YMPA likes to butt into things.” I shrugged-because he wasn’t wrong, though I wasn’t going to tell him that right now.

“So what about this Dr. Mord guy? Any information about him?”

“Well,” Greg said, chewing on a piece of chicken before swallowing it, “according to what we found out through our sources, Dr. Mord’s real name is Jacob Mord. And he’s made a sort of mission codename.”

“What’s it called?” I asked him, and Greg cleared this throat, putting down his lemonade for a second. “What’s it called?” Greg asked me, looking down at me with a frown on his face.

“Uh yeah,” Tisiah said, as he looked down at me with a smile. “What’s the name of Dr. Mord’s mission?

“Well, it’s called ‘the Storm,'” Greg answered. “That’s not even the name of Dr. Mord’s plan,” Greg continued to say. “His plan is called ‘the Gathering Storm.'”

“What is this?” I asked, scratching my head and feeling my head hurt slightly. “Why would he call his plan ‘the Gathering Storm?'”

“I don’t know,” Greg answered, shaking his head. “That’s what I was hoping to get an answer from the FBI.” I sighed heavily and took a sip of the lemonade I was given. “You’ve talked to the FBI?” I asked.

“Well, the CEO of FMA did,” he said, shaking his head. “Apparently, they’re working with the FBI to try to stop him.”

“Oh well that’s great,” I said as I bit my lip. “It seems like they’re working together.”

“And it’s only a matter of time before we start working together,” Tisiah said, talking about the YMPA, the FBI, and Agent Nelson again. He sighed as he shook his head. “And I’m just happy that you’re on our side of things,” Tisiah said as he looked at me. “I mean, that you’re working with us on this mission.”

“Yeah, well, it’s only a matter of time,” I said as I shrugged my shoulders. “And when I do start working with you, I’m going to have to deal with Agent Nelson.”

***

“Dr. Jacob Mord has bases all over the place, from what we assume from Colombia all the way to Britain, being that’s where his sister used to work at,” Mr. Drails said. “Wait, we’re dealing with the BMO again?” Malachi asked.

“Of course not,” Mr. Drails chuckled. “That’d be absurd. But we sort of are, though. Dr. Mord is like his own team, with his own guards and many things, but the BMO will assist him in any way they can.”

“So, how do we find any information on ‘The Gathering Storm’?” September asked. “There are document files that are held currently in one base that we know of,” Mr. Drails said. “We need you guys to steal the folders. Now, a lot of our spies are on many missions, so the FBI should assist you. I got Marcello and his men to find the other bases for us in their own ways.”

“Anything we need to watch out for?” September asked.

“For a fact,” Mr. Drails said as he pulled up what seemed to be an overview of the base. The base was massive, with its own lab in the center and three buildings around it. There were red and white dots that infested in entire map, with arrows leading from one dot to another.

“Now see those red dots?” Mr. Drails asked. “Those are the guards, and the white dots are the scientists. If you look closely, you can see the arrows are moving from the red dots to the white ones, and vice versa.”

“What does it mean?” Tisiah asked.

“It means they’re communicating with each other,” Mr. Drails said. There are two big vans that soldiers stand by, so you’ll need to wear a disguise. They’ll ask for your ID’s but Nikki should easily make your IDs for you in a second, perhaps.” Then he moved towards the middle of the base, where there was an older man wearing glasses and a lab coat. He had dark hair that was graying slightly, and he had a small beard.

He also had a thick ring with a skull on it on his finger, as well as a necklace with a cross on it. “Is that Dr. Mord?” I asked and Mr. Drails nodded, then gestured at the man. “That’s him.”

“Now there are a few other scientists who are important in this mission,” Mr. Drails said, and he pulled up a few more pictures on the computer. “The folders should hold each of their names inside of them, and we’re not sure what their names are. But from what I can tell, two of them are his partners, while the other one mostly checks if it’s ready to be mobilized or not.”

He went back to the overhead view of the base. “In the thick of the base, there are guards at every hall,” he said as he waved his finger around the place, pointing towards various spots. “In between those halls and that lab, there is a room with no windows or doors, and a single light inside of it.” He pointed towards that spot with his finger as I looked up at the picture.

“Now that room isn’t important, it’s the room adjacent to it,” he said. “That’s a storage with the files with it.”

“So when do we start this?” September asked, and Mr. Drails responded, “Tomorrow. First, you’ll meet with the captain-Agent Nelson before you guys make your way towards his lab.”

“Where is his lab in the United States?” I asked. “Which state?”

Mr. Drails looked at me and cleared this throat before he delivered, “Well, I don’t know that yet.”

“So how will we find out where his lab is?”

Mr. Drails tapped his chin as he thought about something. “You guys are gonna have to find it yourselves. The FBI is very good when finding their locations. Last known location of the files was in Las Vegas during movement, but who knows where it’s stationed now.” I sighed as I rubbed my chin, and Mr. Drails nodded. “You’ve got a long journey ahead of you, so make sure you stay alive.”

“What do you mean?” September asked, and Mr. Drails gestured towards the map of the base.

“Well, look here,” he said as he pointed to several locations of the base. “They have all kinds of weapons that can kill you instantly if you’re not careful.” He pointed at one of them as he said this, but I didn’t notice that this particular weapon was a flamethrower that had its nozzle facing outwards. “If you’re not careful,” Mr. Drails said as he shook his head. “But look here.” He pointed at another weapon as he said this, and this one was an M1A1-D SOCOM automatic rifle, and its bayonet was extended from it, but there was no bullet inside of the chamber. “And here.” He pointed at a third weapon, and this time it was a Minigun with two hundred fifty rounds for it, with a drum magazine on it.

“Oh boy,” I muttered.

“And all the guards will have those weapons on them, so as I said-long journey ahead of you,” he said.