Change of Pace

The thought had crossed my mind to sneak out so I could go to church. Something normal, even for just a few hours. I kind of miss it. Not to mention the bonus of beating his system and causing him great frustration. I think Warlike has picked up on my restlessness over the whole Christmas thing. That’s one of the nice things about my honesty policy is I can be moody and not have to hide it. Besides it creates a great false front. (Man we are full of contradictions.) I can be all depressed one day and bitchy another and they just swallow it all as plain fact. That could come in handy some days when I need to use misdirection.

Anyways, this morning Warlike announced that he wanted to move me some place “safe.” Ha! What a joke, my whole reason for existing as I do today is to be in danger, on purpose. And he would be the one sending me there. The real question is safe from what? Is he trying to scare me or is there a real threat? The Feds or Watchman?

Maybe he sensed that I was itching to escape and he wants to keep a hold of me for now at least. So there is an elaborate plan to whisk me out of the house when my two guardians go to some fancy Christmas party tonight. I will get picked up by one of the others and taken to God knows where. This may be the last you hear from me.

Bored in Pasadena

I asked Warlike about Watchman. I wanted to know if Watchman was telling me the truth. I guess their arrangement has always been open. Watchman has always been his own boss, Warlike paid him well which earned him some exclusivity on Watchman’s talents. When I told him about my encounters with Watchman in England and France he asked questions about what Watchman said and did all while pretending to be looking at his PDA or the paper. Distant interest. Warlike is the master at playing poker face, he does not give hint to anything, but the fact that he asked at all tells me he at least has a personal interest in whatever it is Watchman is up. Innocent Lamb started to voice some concern but cut it short. It seems to me that they have an elaborate system of signals but they are very subtle and hard to discern. I hate to say this but I could learn some really useful things from them.

Time and Space

This house is huge. It’s ridiculous really. He is a single man with a girlfriend and no family to speak of, extended or otherwise. Why the eff would you need twelve rooms? I tend to hang around in the movie theater and order all these actions films and then turn up the volume so loud it shakes the floor of the room above me. It is AWESOME! He has an actual billiard room. And the grounds go on forever. What is with all the square footage. He isn’t even here half the time.

Works out for me, I sleep in a different room every night. Sometimes not even in a bedroom. If I’m in a room were there are cameras, like the library or the arboretum, I cover them up while I am sleeping. Unpredictability is an asset. Besides, I do not want to give them any opportunity to mess with me while I’m sleeping. I have not noticed anything weird, no strange dreams or late mornings getting up. They are on their best behavior. Maybe they are waiting, trying to gain my trust or something.

Really most of my wondering around in the middle of the night, movie watching, and rummaging is a product of too much time. Not enough to do around here. I have been on vacation for months as it were. I am probably one of the most expensive human being alive and at the moment the most useless I think.

Comfort and Joy

Christmas is a few days a way and I find I am smothered by a great sadness that sits on my chest trying to crush all the breath out of me. Does this mean Christmas sucked at my house or that I am subconsciously missing it? I think about those two people I met. They are my parents, I can tell, I look related to them. They were upset over my underwhelmed reaction to them and more so when I didn’t want to see them any more. I cut the reunion short. I couldn’t take it. But now I think about them every moment. Wondering about what our tree would look like, the cinnamon smell of the house as you walk into the heat from a cold snowy day. Did we go to mass or anything on Christmas Eve?

I feel I am missing something worth being nostalgic over.

An Apple An Day

Does not work. Ever since I’ve got myself “settled in” Innocent Lamb hounds me all day long. She wants to run tests on me but I won’t let her. I keep telling her later, so instead I get grilled about how I feel, have experienced any usual pains, am I forgetful or klutzy. On and on, it’s really annoying.

I tell myself it's in the interest of science. My body is pumped full of all kinds of crap they've been giving me for years to change me at the molecular level and I have been beyond their care for several months. Surely there should be some kind of side effects from that, withdrawals or something. It never occurred to me until she started asking me these things. But her style of worry feels more like that of a mother and not a scientist. I can see that she is deeply concerned. When I blow her off she gets kinda angry in a rejected sort of way. I don't know, I can't explain it. There is nothing clinical about it.

In any case I feel totally normal. I feel like me, as much I know how that feels.

Missing Person

Usurper has been pleasantly absent so far. Only Warlike and the good doctor were at the table and are the only ones in the house besides security guards and servants. I took the liberty of searching the place from top to bottom. I didn't force any doors or closets that were locked. I did it mostly to see if they would stop me. It weirded out the black shirts (my new name for hired security guards,)but they didn't stop me. They dutifully reported it and followed me around as I explored the place. It is his private residence so maybe he likes to keep business separate and the others are at our super secret headquarters.

But I digress. Where is Usurper? I was ready for the great throw down. For the shock and horror on his face when he saw me sitting in his seat. The longer I am here I am sure the better chance of him being told I am back. I wanted to be the one to break the news to him.

Breakfast

Imagine. Me in my muddy and torn clothes seated at the head of his freshly polished mahogany dining table with silver and crystal strewn all over it. Is Warlike thinking about having to clean the seat after I get up? Someone is.

Of course I didn’t really like showing up injured, I felt it could make me look weak, or maybe it makes me seem especially hardened. My surprise appearance in his room was good, but even better is my new policy of total honesty. Well, maybe not total, I didn’t tell him about my parents, but I did tell him that MI6 was gunning for him and they were using me to do it.

His response, “You owe me two dogs.”

I eat heartily. This is good food. The man does not skimp on these kinds of things. I’m gonna take all I can from the bastard for what he did to me and if that means stuffing myself to the point of sickness it is well worth the price.

I ignore him in a similar fashion to his dog comment I say, “I want to be a free agent; you pay me like the others. None of this belonging to the company shit. The feds think I’m on their side. I’m on my side, bottom line, and if I get the inkling that you are trying to play me I am out of here.”

He doesn’t know how to react. I can see each word he speaks is weighed carefully. He gives nothing away and makes no promises but in the end he is willing to talk more after dinner. I can see he is willing to see how far this thing can go. At least I think he is. He is intrigued by my transformation and wants to why and how.

The three of us enjoy our meal as if this how every morning is spent. He chats me up with small talk, who, what, where, when. I drink my coffee, eat my eggs, and answer his questions with teenager recklessness. I play up the ‘I don’t give a damn’ attitude. He is not convinced. I think he may still be in shock at my return, but he’s keeping it cool.

I thought this would be fun. This messing around with Warlike’s little world, but I am exhausted already. I kind of wish I was still with the Feds. I don’t know if this is how I want to spend the rest of my life, in constant alert, ready for anything.

Home For the Holidays

That’s right; I did it; I killed his damn dogs. The small inconvenience and cost to him to replace them is a petty victory, but a victory nonetheless. The bigger pay off was the look on his face when he found himself at the end of my barrel.

As thunder crashed overhead and the rain fell harder I was already soaked, my hair clinging to the sides of my face. My denim jacket was water logged and weighed a ton so I pulled it off and dropped it onto the flooded walkway. Looking up at the corner of the brick wall I saw the thick black cord of the security camera between the lightening flashes.

With a running jump I caught the top of the wall and hoisted myself up. I took a breather at the top of wall thinking about Humpty Dumpty before swinging over to the other side. Carefully scooting my way to the corner I reached down, grabbed a hold of the black cable coil and ripped the sucker from wall. To add insult to injury I kicked the camera housing from its perch and hurled it to the ground below.

Satisfied with this bit of vandalism I flung myself from the wall onto the sculpted, saturated grass. In the distance the slender white columns of the front entrance glowed eerily. There were interior lights that could be seen; I imagined it to be the unlucky soul watching in the security center, his panic growing with every camera that went blank wondering if he can handle the situation himself or wake up Warlike. I knew the drill, the dogs would be let out first. I pulled the .45 from my shoulder holster, double checked for the .38 under my belt. Assured that I had what I needed I trudged toward the house. His room was on the second floor facing the plum trees.

Midnight Musing 2

It has occurred to me that maybe Warlike or at least Innocent Lamb have been reading my entries. After all I started the blog while under their… care. That could be dangerous if he is ready for me. It would certainly ruin the surprise. Maybe that is why Warlike hasn’t surfaced, he knows that the government is on to him so he is lying low.

If Watchman was not sent by them, as he claims, are they be surprised to see he is around? Did he leave Warlike’s employ on good terms or was he fired? Maybe Watchman is being paid by another party to find me. I wonder if his appearance is a comfort or a concern to Warlike.

[Sigh] This is what I hate about this whole world. This shadow realm of smoke and mirrors. What is possible is an option. No one and everyone could be following this. Maybe the British authorities have redirected this URL to their servers and it no longer exists on the world wide web in any accessible way. I am essentially talking to myself now. MI6 has teams of psychologists dissecting all my sentences for any sign of a break down. Maybe they shouldn’t send me in.

Midnight Musings

I lifted one of those new Driods off of a distracted American tourist on my last outing. When I go out, and I emphasize the when, they are much more cautious now, they stick to me like glue. I have someone with me at my side like a parent or a sibling, they dress trendy to play the part, and I suspect that they a tracker in my jacket.

I am currently hiding under the covers frantically typing away at this entry. The phone is in silent mode and it’s a touch screen so there are no keys but sometimes my fingernails make a little popping sound here and there. I feel like an eight year old trying to read my favorite book past bedtime with a flashlight in hand. Every little creek and knocking makes me hold my breath and pause. I am relatively sure there is no camera in my room, but I suspect that there are listening devices in case I talk in my sleep. I do not have an excessive habit of talking to myself out loud. I have made it a goal of mine to eliminate all talking or expression of any kind that could be recorded visibly or audibly. Once I master removing all outward signals like voice, body language, and facial expressions, I will work on creating false ones.

Anyhow, what I was getting to is that if they are listening to me right now they may be detecting an indistinct but constant tapping sound that has never before been heard. I was thinking that they must know about this blog. They wouldn’t very good agents if they didn’t. They watch me use the internet when I am out. I always use those internet shops that just have rows and rows of computers and I try to get one that has my back to a wall so no prying eyes can see where I go, but I can’t always control that. So if they are following my blog that would mean that they know that I am planning on spilling the beans the second I get there. Are they relying on my sudden but inevitable betrayal? Are they disappointed in me because of it?