Midnight Rendezvous
The many days that I've worked, just waiting for the day to come where I visit Wilson's labs. Though doubtful of the purpose, nevertheless I am rather interested in how the man manages what he does. Finally, it was the day, or rather the night. Doctor Wilson had requested that we meet him at his labs in the dead of the night as part of some 'operational requirements' set by the MOD. As there were no other alternatives, I readily agreed to this rather queer timing.
I look over to Jason. The young lad was visibly excited throughout the day. He must have checked and rechecked his equipment at least half a dozen times in the past hour as we wait for the hour to arrive. As a way of compensation for the inconvenience of the timing, Doctor Wilson has graciously offered us his personal transport to the labs and back to our homes.
" It is time. Pack your equipment boy, we got an interview to do."
With that, we walked out of the office, coats in one hand and our briefcases on the other. Neither of us spoke as we took the lift down to the lobby. Even though there was silence, the excitement is palatable. As we walked out of the lobby, I look up into the night sky. The sky is clear, and the air was cool and crisp. There are no clouds, but there are no stars in sight either. Only the moon was on its lonely vigil, full and bright. We got into my Bentley and we drove a short distance to Nelson's Column, where Doctor Wilson's driver will meet us at the stroke of midnight. I dismissed my driver after we reached Trafalgar Square, and we stood there shivering in the cold night as we waited for the fella to arrive.
I looked at my watch, 5 minutes to midnight. I look up on the column, seeing Nelson standing triumphedly atop the column, a monument of greatness that once graced our empire. Now Britain is barely a shadow of her former self, the empire no more, relegated to a second tier status as China and India have risen to become major powers with their tremendous economic and military strength. The 21st century belongs to the ancient empires of India and China, risen from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. How the mighty hath fallen...
'Mister Holland, I suppose?'
I turned around with a startle. Standing in front of a me is a middle aged man wearing a neatly pressed suit. He stood not very tall but proud. He stands about 5 feet 3" (I'm 6 Feet 2"), has a longish thin face that seems to have an odd greyish pallor to it. His lips are thin and reddish; concealing brilliant white teeth that seems surprising free of fillings for a man of his age (he appears to be in his early 50s judging from the wrinkles and everything). He spoke with a voice thats low yet strong, smooth yet not exactly silky. The left breast pocket of his suit was embossed with a strange figure in red. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a figure of a 9 legged Dragon pierced with a spear through its guts.
' My apologies, Herr Holland, my name is Manfred. I work for Herr Doktor Wilson, being both his personal assistant and his butler. I'll be conveying you and your friend to Doctor Wilson's laboratories. However, I must apologise and seek your kind understanding for certain issues.... For the trip, I'm afraid you and your friend will have to be blindfolded...'
"What? Blindfold, what for?" I asked indignantly.
' Again I must apologise Sir for this seemingly unreasonable request. You see, the Human Regeneration Project is funded by His Majesty's Government as a military project. As a result, strict security measures are required by the MOD for funding to continue. Though the MOD has kindly allowed the both of you to visit the laboratories, the conditions are that no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to reveal the location of the laboratories. For the interests of security.' Manfred said with a smile.
Suddenly, my world plunged into darkness as an invisible pair of hands from behind put what feels like fine silk handkerchief over my eyes and tied the ends tight. Before I can even let out as much as a sound, the deed was done. After what seemed like an infinity (in reality just mere seconds), I hear the sound of a vehicle approach. We are hustled into the vehicle and soon we were underway...
I look over to Jason. The young lad was visibly excited throughout the day. He must have checked and rechecked his equipment at least half a dozen times in the past hour as we wait for the hour to arrive. As a way of compensation for the inconvenience of the timing, Doctor Wilson has graciously offered us his personal transport to the labs and back to our homes.
" It is time. Pack your equipment boy, we got an interview to do."
With that, we walked out of the office, coats in one hand and our briefcases on the other. Neither of us spoke as we took the lift down to the lobby. Even though there was silence, the excitement is palatable. As we walked out of the lobby, I look up into the night sky. The sky is clear, and the air was cool and crisp. There are no clouds, but there are no stars in sight either. Only the moon was on its lonely vigil, full and bright. We got into my Bentley and we drove a short distance to Nelson's Column, where Doctor Wilson's driver will meet us at the stroke of midnight. I dismissed my driver after we reached Trafalgar Square, and we stood there shivering in the cold night as we waited for the fella to arrive.
I looked at my watch, 5 minutes to midnight. I look up on the column, seeing Nelson standing triumphedly atop the column, a monument of greatness that once graced our empire. Now Britain is barely a shadow of her former self, the empire no more, relegated to a second tier status as China and India have risen to become major powers with their tremendous economic and military strength. The 21st century belongs to the ancient empires of India and China, risen from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. How the mighty hath fallen...
'Mister Holland, I suppose?'
I turned around with a startle. Standing in front of a me is a middle aged man wearing a neatly pressed suit. He stood not very tall but proud. He stands about 5 feet 3" (I'm 6 Feet 2"), has a longish thin face that seems to have an odd greyish pallor to it. His lips are thin and reddish; concealing brilliant white teeth that seems surprising free of fillings for a man of his age (he appears to be in his early 50s judging from the wrinkles and everything). He spoke with a voice thats low yet strong, smooth yet not exactly silky. The left breast pocket of his suit was embossed with a strange figure in red. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a figure of a 9 legged Dragon pierced with a spear through its guts.
' My apologies, Herr Holland, my name is Manfred. I work for Herr Doktor Wilson, being both his personal assistant and his butler. I'll be conveying you and your friend to Doctor Wilson's laboratories. However, I must apologise and seek your kind understanding for certain issues.... For the trip, I'm afraid you and your friend will have to be blindfolded...'
"What? Blindfold, what for?" I asked indignantly.
' Again I must apologise Sir for this seemingly unreasonable request. You see, the Human Regeneration Project is funded by His Majesty's Government as a military project. As a result, strict security measures are required by the MOD for funding to continue. Though the MOD has kindly allowed the both of you to visit the laboratories, the conditions are that no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to reveal the location of the laboratories. For the interests of security.' Manfred said with a smile.
Suddenly, my world plunged into darkness as an invisible pair of hands from behind put what feels like fine silk handkerchief over my eyes and tied the ends tight. Before I can even let out as much as a sound, the deed was done. After what seemed like an infinity (in reality just mere seconds), I hear the sound of a vehicle approach. We are hustled into the vehicle and soon we were underway...
posted by RAPIER at 3:28 AM
1 Comments:
Yup,
Manfred is German, East German...
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