CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Luke!” yelled AJ, running toward the massive conference room.
“Does no one actually use the comms system embedded in our fucking heads? Why do we have it? Instead, you’re yelling like a kid and–“
“Luke!”
“What?”
“I just got a hit on Michelle Fryar. She’s having lunch. Here. In New Orleans,” he said.
“What the fuck? No. No, that can’t be right. Where?”
“She’s at Brennan’s. She’s alone, but she just arrived. I asked the staff to stretch out the service.”
“Let’s go,” said Luke, running toward the waiting vehicles. Not knowing for sure if she truly was alone or if she had dozens of men hidden around, they were taking all precautions.
“I’m going,” said Kane, standing beside Saint.
“Kane,” started Eric.
“I’m going. I don’t care if she sees me.”
“We’re wasting time. Let’s go,” said Saint.
Concerned that they wouldn’t make it in time to get to her, they took the Osprey, landing on one of the hotels nearby. As a dozen men exited the building, all eyes turned to see the massive figures running toward the Quarter.
“Staff has cleared the restaurant other than her,” said Eric as they opened the door. When they walked in, she was speaking softly to the manager.
“I don’t understand what’s taking so long. I don’t mean to be rude, but I just want my lunch so that I can meet my friends,” she said quietly. Looking up, she spotted the crowd of men, and the manager backed up.
“She’s been incredibly polite, Luke,” he said. “No yelling, no demands, she’s just been lovely.”
“Is there something wrong?” she asked, staring at the men. “Do I know you?” Kane stepped forward and stretched out his hand.
“My name is Kane,” he said.
“Hello. I’m Misha. Michelle, but my friends call me Misha,” she said, shaking his hand. Kane held her hand, giving it a firm shake several times.
“She’s not lying, and all I feel is goodness. True goodness,” he whispered. “How is this possible?”
“No. No, I met her,” said Saint. “This is the same woman we met in Virginia.”
“Oh, no,” whispered the woman.
“Oh, no? What does that mean?” asked Eric.
“I’m afraid you’re not going to believe me if I tell you,” she said, still sitting quietly, her hands folded on her lap.
“Try us,” said Cam.
“It’s a very long story, gentlemen, but my parents were scientists. Eccentric scientists. Before they died, they told me that a clone of me had been created.” Kane was still holding her hand.
“She’s telling the truth.”
“I’m sorry. What’s happening here? Why does he keep saying I’m telling the truth?”
“Misha, we believe that your, uh, clone is attempting to do something pretty horrific. She’s trying to get to several people we care a great deal about,” said Saint.
“Does this have something to do with that awful base where my parents worked?” They all stared at her and nodded. “I didn’t know a lot about it. My parents sent me to live with my grandparents so I wouldn’t have to live there, exposed to all the horrible chemicals there. The clone didn’t come about until I was a young woman. I had no idea that they’d taken enough genetic material from me to do this. I’ve tried to tell people about her, but of course, no one believes me.”
“We believe you,” said Luke.
“She’s not right in the head. She’s never been right. I mean, technically, she’s quite intelligent, but it’s like having a genius who is bipolar and schizophrenic all at the same time. Plus, duplicates never turn out exactly the same. Something is always wrong with them. You know what I mean?” The others all nodded.
“Have you met her face-to-face?” asked Saint.
“No. Never. My father said it would be dangerous for us to see one another.”
“Why did they create her? What were they thinking?” asked Saint.
“I can’t answer that. My parents died very young. I don’t think she knows about me, but I definitely know about her. It’s why I go by Misha instead of Michelle. I even changed my last name so that people wouldn’t confuse us.”
The men looked at one another, whispering among themselves and then back at the woman.
“Is there something I need to know? I mean, what I’d really like is to have my famous Brennan’s lunch,” she smiled. “But if you need something, I’m not opposed to helping you if I can. After seeing her on the television, I can tell that she’s not experiencing normal behavior.”
“What is it you do for a living, Misha?” asked Luke.
“I’m a schoolteacher,” she said with a huge smile. “Or I was. I’ve retired now, but I taught third grade for thirty-one years. It was the most wonderful decision of my life. I’m here with a few other friends who just retired as well. We’re doing a riverboat tour of the Mississippi.”
“That sounds wonderful,” smiled Eric. “There might be something you can do for us if you could give us an afternoon of your time.”
“If it will stop whatever this individual is doing, I’d be happy to help. I saw her speaking to the United Nations and cringed at what she was saying. I just got a bad vibe from her. My fellow teachers commented on the remarkable resemblance between us, and I just tried to blow it off.”
“You said that you tried to tell others about her once before. Who did you tell?” asked Luke.
“Well, I found out through my grandmother’s estate that she was working for the CIA. I know that sounds crazy, but I traveled to D.C. to speak with someone. A man spoke to me but treated me as if I’d lost my mind. He kept calling me Michelle and said the act was over.”
“That’s why she left the agency and went to the DOD,” said Saint. “They suspected she was mentally unstable given Misha’s visit.” Luke nodded.
“Well, let’s be sure that we confirm their suspicions.”