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The AdvAnTAGE Project

By

Mantrid Brizon

Episode 04: Small Victories

“Where do you suppose they're going?" Dr. Addis asks in a soft voice as soon as the Agents turn a corner at the end of the hall.

“I don't know, but I think Jose would call this 'a sign'." Dr. Burnheart replies, a little grin spreading across his face. “Come on. We'd better hurry."

As they make their way down the hall, Dr. Addis slips away and enters another lab. Dr. Burnheart continues to his office where he promptly sits at his new desk and begins his work. After tapping on a few keys an several clicks of the mouse, he begins the process of reformatting his hard drive. Leaving the computer to its own devices, he collects a few of his more prized possessions from his desk and leaves the room. Traversing the hall, he stows his belongings just before he enters the nursery, where a nurse sits by the tiny bed where baby Harriet sleeps.

“You're dismissed." He says to the nurse, motioning with a hand for her to leave her seat.

“Doctor?"

“I feel like taking a shift, now off you go." He speaks in a cheerful tone.

“Alright. I'll be at my station if you need anything."

The nurse leaves the room and makes her way down the hall. He listens to her footfalls as they gradually soften. Claiming her seat for himself, Dr. Burnheart scoots closer to the little bed, doing his best to not disturb the sleeping child. He watches her with a little smile spread across his face. How adorable she is, bundled in her blanket, her ears flopped over. Her little nostrils twitch as she makes a soft cooing noise. Unable to resist the urge, he reaches in a gently strokes her head. Harriet shifts but does not awaken.

“Hello, button." He speaks very softly. “Don't you worry. Mama Carol is coming soon."

After waiting for only a few minutes, Dr. Addis enters the nursery, a folded carrier in her hands and a bag slung across her shoulder.

“Aww, she's so cute!" Dr. Addis whispers with intensity.

“Yeah." He says, still petting Harriet's little head. “Did you get everything?"

“Uh-huh!"

Setting the folded, plastic carrier on a chair, she opens the bag slung over her shoulder and reaches inside. She removes a glass vial and several syringes, as well as a pack of needles.

“Alright. You prep them and I'll keep watch."

Dr. Addis unwraps and attaches the needles to the syringes before poking them through the top of the vial and pulling through a dose of medication.

“This first one is for her." She remarks, setting a needle aside. “How many do you think we'll need?"

“I don't know. Make a handful, just in case."

She nods and obeys, setting aside six syringes with roughly the same quantity of the drug. It empties the vial, which she then tosses into the nearby trashcan.

“Alright. Unpack that travel carrier and let's-"

Dr. Burnheart stops mid-sentence as he hears a familiar noise. Footfalls. Someone's walking closer, and it sounds like soft sneakers. That can only mean one thing. Dr. Addis swiftly collects the loaded syringes, except for one, which she's left near Dr. Burnheart. As he grabs the syringe and slips it into a pocket of his lab coat, needle first, Dr. Addis pokes her head into the hallway. The nurse moves around the doorway to avoid walking into Dr. Addis and enters the nursery, startling both conspirators.

“Dr. Addis! I'm surprised to see you here. Is this your shift?" She asks, cocking her head to one side.

“Oh, uh... No, we're just..." Dr. Addis turns to Dr. Burnheart.

“I asked her here, to... Help me with transporting her." He points to Harriet.

“Transport?" The nurse raises a brow.

“Yes. I need to take her to the lab and run a few tests."

It's at this point that the nurse notices the folded carrier on the floor, resting against an empty chair. It's often used to transport live animals for testing. Why would they need that, when the bed Harriet sleeps on is built onto a wheeled cart?

“Are you sure? Doesn't she have a 'procedure' tomorrow morning?" The nurse takes a step back.

“Do you think I'm one to make that kind of mistake?" Dr. Burnheart growls, a sternness in his voice.

“No, sir." She bows her head, clearly intimidated by him. “But I do think we should let Director Chen know."

She turns and reaches for a phone mounted on the wall, but Dr. Burnheart is ready. He removes the primed syringe from a pocket and extends an arm as he approaches the woman from behind.

“No need!" He chirps, covering her mouth with his hand.

He yanks her backward before she can scream. She reaches up to grab his arm, shrieking into his palm. In a matter of seconds, he pulls the syringe from his pocket, sticks the needle into her right bicep and pushes on the plunger. It doesn't take long for the drug to take effect and soon the nurse falls limp in his arms. He drags her to the nearest chair and sets her down. Dr. Burnheart carefully poses her in a manner that appears comfortable, keeping the stress off of her arms, legs, head and neck, so as not to cause permanent injury.

“Sweet dreams."

Dr. Addis unfolds the carrier and tests it for sturdiness before taking a spare blanket and stuffing it inside for bedding. She then carefully collects Harriet, cradling the baby in her arms.

“It feels so wrong, stuffing her into this crate like a dog." She remarks.

“Better that than the alternative." He murmurs, poking his head into the hallway and looking to and fro.

“True."

“Come on, while the coast is clear."

Gently slipping Harriet into the crate, still wrapped in her blanket, Dr. Addis closes the door of the crate and latches it shut. She pats down her pockets to feel the orientation of the syringes, before carefully pulling them out and passing a few to Dr. Burnheart. Exiting the nursery and traversing the hall, they conceal their non-lethal weapons in their pockets, each one keeping a syringe in-hand, just in case. Harriet sleeps soundly, even as they open the front doors and move down the stairs.

“Hold it!" A soldier shouts.

The pair stop dead in their tracks, staring at Dr. Burnheart's sporty, metallic blue BMW. It's less than one hundred feet away. Turning around, the soldier approaches the pair, eying the carrier.

“What's in the crate?"

“A former test subject." Dr. Burnheart replies.

“What?" The soldier raises his brow in surprise.

With a loud and frustrated sigh, Dr. Burnheart lifts the badge that dangles around his neck.

“I'm Dr. Burnheart, the chief scientist of this entire facility. This animal was slated for testing but we no longer need it so I've decided to take it home. I could use a pet."

The soldier lifts the badge and examines it with a flashlight, then cocks his head and peers at the cage. Dr. Addis closes her eyes and silently hopes that Harriet won't wake up and cry.

“Is that authorized?" The soldier asks.

“Is that author-?! Listen, kid, I'm about as privileged as they come! Did you even read my badge?! Look at the clearance level!" He growls.

Dr. Addis' heart begins to race. Is Kyle's shouting going to blow their cover?

“I'm just doing my job, sir." The soldier retorts.

“And if you want to continue to have one, I suggest you be a good little drone and let your betters leave without further annoyance." Dr. Burnheart snaps back.

“... Alright. Fine. You're clear to leave." The frustrated soldier sighs.

“Good!"

“I'm sorry for the trouble."

“As well you should be."

As the soldier shakes his head and turns away, Dr. Burnheart retrieves his car keys and Dr. Addis hastily makes her way toward the passenger seat. Climbing inside and locking themselves in, she turns to him as he slips the key into the ignition.

“Wow... That was brilliant." She cannot help but comment.

“Yeah?" He flashes a little grin.

“Oh, yeah! Where'd you come up with that?"

“I just pretended to be the stereotypical snobby, asshole doctor."

“Well, you did great."

“Thanks."

Leaning over, the pair share a kiss before he turns the key and buckles his seat belt. Shifting into gear, they drive down the long and windy path and soon come upon the front gate. Scotty, the gate guard, emerges from the booth. He approaches the very familiar car and waves. Dr. Burnheart prepares his badge and rolls down the driver's side window.

“Howdy, doc. Leaving early?" Scotty leans over and peers inside.

“Yeah."

“Hey, Carol!"

“Hi, Scotty."

“I'm surprised to see you riding with this stiff." Scotty teases.

“Well, he takes some getting used to but he's alright, I guess." She replies, ruffling her lover's hair.

“What'cha got there?"

“Oh, uhm... Nothing! Just some old junk!" Dr. Burnheart chirps.

Scotty's expression changes and he slowly backs away. Dr. Addis looks over to see the back of the carrier, which is facing the security guard. A large Unifact emblem and a sticker that reads “CAUTION: LIVE ANIMAL" sits beneath it. It exposes the true purpose of the boxy carrier.

“Are you taking Unifact property, doc?"

“Come on, Scotty. We're in a hurry. I've got a date tonight." Dr. Burnheart motions to Carol with his head, trying to play it cool.

“I'll need to see the release order, sir."

“I... I don't have one." Dr. Burnheart admits.

“Step out of the car, doc." Scotty rests his hand over his pistol and takes a strange stance.

“Scotty!" Dr. Addis exclaims.

“Please, Scotty. Just let us go."

“I'm not letting you waltz out of here with Unifact property! I have no idea what it is or why you're doing it!" He shouts, drawing his Glock 17 pistol and aiming it at Dr. Burnheart's head. “Now step out of the car... Don't make me make you."

“You don't understand, Scotty."

“I won't ask you again..."

Dr. Addis thinks fast. She clandestinely removes a syringe from her pocket and points the needle toward the doorway of the cage, which faces away from Scotty. Poking inside, her heart aches as she searches for one of Harriet's little legs. As Scotty reaches for a radio, preparing to call in the theft, Dr. Addis finds her mark. She sticks the needle into Harriet, being very careful to not push the plunger. Harriet begins to cry. Scotty stops in his tracks when he hears the sounds, indistinguishable from a human infant.

“What's that?" The unnerved security guard asks.

“It's what we're stealing, Scotty..." Dr. Addis replies. “It's a test subject."

“It, uhm..." Scotty gulps, his pistol lowering. “It sounds like a baby."

“Yeah..." Dr. Burnheart murmurs.

“The fuck..." Scotty steps back.

“I'm sorry we involved you this way. We just wanted to take her and go." Dr. Burnheart continues.

“What the hell is going on up there?!"

“Experiments, Scotty... Highly classified, highly immoral experiments."

“On babies?!?! Jesus Christ!" Scotty holsters his pistol.

“They wanted us to dissect her." Dr. Addis lifts the cage. “So, we're taking her and leaving."

“Please, Scotty. Open the gate."

“... What will I say?"

“You didn't see this. All you saw was Carol and I leaving together."

A tear runs down Scotty's cheek. He's visibly horrified by the thought of infants being used as test subjects, as would anyone with a heart. Taking off his navy-blue 'security' baseball cap, he rubs his spiky black hair. He sniffles and steps even further back, then waves the car through the gate. Without saying another word, Scotty walks toward the booth and reaches inside, pressing the button that raises the gate.

“Thank you, Scotty." Dr. Burnheart leans out of his window.

“You're doing the right thing!" Dr. Addis shouts past Kyle.

“Whatever, just... Just get out of here and don't come back." The shaken security guard sits in the chair in his booth.

Dr. Burnheart takes off, rolling up the window as they drive down the windy, asphalt driveway.

“I'm so sorry, button! I didn't mean to hurt you!" Dr. Addis coos, pulling Harriet out of the carrier and cradling her in her arms. “Are you okay, sweetheart?"

“What'd you do?"

“I poked her with a needle."

“Well, you saved our asses back there." Dr. Burnheart chuckles, half from amusement and half from fear.

“Yeah... I didn't think Scotty would take his job so seriously."

“I know! He seemed like... Well... Like a slacker."

“I guess he showed us, 'doc'." Dr. Addis grins.

Reaching the main road and racing toward town, Dr. Burnheart glances over at Dr. Addis and baby Harriet. She's finally calmed down and seems quite comfortable in Carol's arms.

“You know, now that we're fugitives, can you even call me a doctor anymore?" He thinks aloud.

“What would you rather be called?"

“How about... Kyle."

“Hi, Kyle. I'm Carol." She teases, extending a hand toward him.

With a little chuckle, Kyle adjusts the fans, turns on the radio, albeit at a very low volume, and drives home. Nearly at his home, Kyle can see a black Chevy Trailblazer turning a corner in the distance. Briefly panicking, he hastily turns to the right, startling Carol who holds tightly to the precious bundle.

“Kyle!" She exclaims.

“I'm sorry! I think that's them."

Pulling into a random person's driveway, Kyle and Carol look toward the main road. The Trailblazer drives by, the windows tinted beyond their ability to see inside.

“I think you're right." She murmurs.

“Let's wait here... Just for a minute."

After nearly twenty minutes of sitting in someone's driveway, Kyle is finally ready to carry on. He backs out of the driveway, turns around and returns to the main road. Once on the main road, he continues down to his street. Another vehicle suddenly pulls up, but this time it's far less cause for concern. His neighbor's old Chevy S-10 turns the corner, following in the path of the Trailblazer, which he's certain carried Agent Sharpe and his frightening doppelgangers. As the pickup passes by, Kyle glances into his mirror, watching the vehicle.

“Huh. I think that was my neighbor."

Harriet stirs and makes a familiar sound, a noise she often makes just before she begins crying.

“Shh... There, there, button. It's going to be alright." Carol coos.

“Maybe she's hungry?"

“I can feed her at your place, while you pack up." She replies.

“Alright, but we need to be quick. I don't plan on taking much with us."

“You couldn't with this car. I have no idea how you plan on fitting my kitchen sink." Carol quips.

“As far as I'm concerned, all we need is a trunk full of money and our papers. We can leave the rest behind." Kyle retorts, too nervous to be amused.

“It's a good thing Unifact paid us in small islands." She continues.

Kyle breathes in and out, steadily but heavily. Seeing the fear welling within him, Carol reaches over and rests a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention.

“We'll be okay, Kyle."

“Yeah... Yeah! We've got this!" He nods, turning down the road that leads to his house.

Pulling into his driveway, Kyle parks the car, hops out and races for the front door. Carol is right behind him, clutching Harriet to her chest and keeping her calm. He opens the door and steps inside, only for Carol to stop and turn to him.

“Oh! I forgot the bag. It has her formula in it."

“Where is it?"

“On the floor by my seat."

He races outside, opens the door and collects the bag, only to pause when he notices the house of his neighbor across the street. He'd seen the Chevy S-10 driving down the road, but as he recollects who was in it, he didn't realize their son was old enough to drive. He looks toward the upstairs bedroom window and slowly walks back toward his front door. Why was that black Trailblazer even on this street? He'd heard about the “intruder" back in the middle of winter, the teenager caught trying to smoke weed in Unifact's yard. Perhaps Agent Sharpe and his men weren't there for Kyle, as he'd feared?

“I hope they're alright." He thinks aloud as he heads back inside.

As the truck pulls into the old field, the headlights beam onto the shack. The amber glow of a small lantern can be seen through a tiny window made of salvaged plastic, about four inches by four inches. A face peers through the window and just as Donnie parks the truck and turns off the engine, the plywood door opens.

“Donnie?!" Jack exclaims in shock.

“What?!"

The boys rush outside, looking over the familiar truck. In the driver's seat is their friend, shaken, crying and with a large, bloodied bandage on one of his forearms. The cab is filled with valuables and Donnie's rarely used Honda XR200 motorcycle lies in the bed.

“Are you alright?" Connor asks in a soft voice.

“What the hell are you doing driving your dad's truck?!" Martin rushes up to the opened window.

Donnie covers his face, unable to hold back. The boys know that this is serious. Reaching for the door handle, Donnie pushes it open and tumbles out of the vehicle. His friends gather around him, dropping to their knees and sitting on the grass. Connor, the youngest and gentlest of the four, rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Talk to us, Donnie."

“Yeah. What's wrong, man?"

“We're here for you."

With a sniffle, Donnie wipes away his tears and stares at the grass between his legs, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

“They're dead..." He suddenly blurts out.

“... What?"

“They killed them. My parents."

“Uhh... My mom always tells me to clean out my ears." Martin remarks, sticking a pinky into an ear and twisting it. “Maybe she's right, because I thought I just heard you say-"

“My parents are fucking dead!" Donnie growls.

The boys aren't sure what to make of the situation, staying silent and glancing toward each other as Donnie once again takes a moment to calm down. With a deep breath, he begins his tale, revealing the truth. He hides nothing, explaining how he was at the library on the night Old Mr. Hapcock was murdered, how he'd left only moments before the incident. He reveals the encrypted file, a shock in and of itself to the four boys, all of whom are nearly as adept at computers as Donnie himself, and proves his story with the manila envelope and the three floppy disks. By the time he reveals what he'd done on the message board, and seeing the men in black leaving his house, the other boys have fully accepted his story and begin to panic.

“What did you get yourself into, man?!" Louis gasps.

“I told you not to fuck around!" Martin growls.

“You were talking about credit card fraud, and I never got caught for that!" Donnie retorts.

“Yeah, but I meant all of your criminal bullshit! ... It was implied!" Martin snaps back.

“Forget that shit, okay?!" Jack barks at Martin. “What did those men in black due to your parents?"

“They shot them with my dad's own gun. They made it look like she was murdered and that he killed himself. My NeXTstation computer was gone and the desk was cleaned-"

“Big surprise there." Martin grumbles.

“But the rest of the house was untouched. I set it up different..." Donnie continues.

“What do you mean, you 'set it up different'?" A fearful Connor asks.

“They wanted it to look like my dad shot my mom and killed himself. I switched it up. I cut my arm and smeared some blood around, then tore the place up and collected valuables. Now it'll look more like a botched robbery. Besides, I'm going to need cash to support myself... It's just me now."

“Yeah, but you're gone. Doesn't that make you the prime suspect?" Louis asks.

“I poked a hole in the shirt I used to cover my arm." Donnie says, raising his wounded forearm. “On the way here, I tossed it out of the window. I won't keep the truck either. When I get far enough out of town, I'll ditch it and figure something out."

“Oookay..." Louis murmurs.

“With any luck, someone will find the shirt and think I got shot too, but that they took me with them, or that maybe I was the first victim and they moved my body or something... ... I don't know, guys! I'm making this up as I go!"

“Well... Do you have a plan? Generally speaking." Martin quips.

“Yeah." Donnie nods, looking over his four friends. “I've got that file. When I get out of town and turn that stuff into cash, I'm going to hack my records and make a fake ID. Once I'm safely away, I'm going to figure out how to decrypt that fucking thing and then I'm going to expose the government and whatever sick shit they're doing. They don't get to keep secrets if they have to hurt people!"

“What if they catch you?" Jack asks.

“That's why I made copies... Look, I need your help." Donnie holds up the manila envelope.

“Woah! Hell no!" Martin backs away.

“Are you serious?!" Connor falls backward and does the same.

“Come on, guys! You don't have to work on it! I'm not asking you to do anything other than hide some copies! That and 'find' the crime scene tomorrow."

Martin, Jack, Louis and Connor are all speechless. The boys, between the ages of seventeen and thirteen, are out of their league and they know it. They glance amongst each other in silence, none of them willing to take the envelope.

“Please... At least go to my parents' house tomorrow! You have to do that much or this might not work!" Donnie pleads.

Looking between his three companions, Jack sighs and shakes his head. He steps forward and grabs the envelope.

“Fine."

He pulls two disks from the envelope before handing it back to Donnie.

“I'll hold one. If these three are going to be bitches about it..." Jack glares at Martin for a moment. “Then I'll hide the other copy."

“Thanks, Jack."

“I'll even go to your house tomorrow."

The pair embrace and Donnie struggles to contain his tears. Connor approaches and pats his shoulders before joining in the hug.

“I will, too."

“Me, three." Louis steps forward.

Now the odd man out, Martin relents and joins in. The four friends agree to cover for Donnie and discover the murders in the morning. With his plan set in motion, Donnie climbs back into the pickup truck and waves to his friends as he drives away. Hopefully, in time, he'll see them again.

“What the hell did we get ourselves into?" Martin asks the others while waving to Donnie.

“I don't know, but it's big." Louis remarks.

“Whatever it is..." Jack murmurs, looking over the floppy disks in his hands. “I really want know."