The Departure Protocol

Chapter 16

Shea leaned against the wall in the alley, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She rubbed her eyes, then blinked a couple of times.

"Change of plans," she said.

"We're not getting out of the city?"

"No, of course we are. We just can't go through the gates." Shea approached the corner and glanced towards the gate, then the opposite direction. "Follow me."

Shea led them away from the city gate area, following one of the side streets. Wared quickly lost track of where they were as he was not familiar with that part of the city. They saw the occasional Protectorate patrol pass by but they paid them no attention. No-one else did either.

After sneaking through back streets for about twenty minutes, they found themselves in front of a worn wooden door at the end of a shaded alley. At some point, the color of the door had been blue but the paint had faded and flaked over the years, leaving a patchwork of paint and weathered wood. Shea knocked on the door, then waited. Almost immediately, Wared heard a click from the lock and the door swung open on creaky hinges, revealing a sparsely lit corridor within.

Wared hesitated when Shea stepped across the threshold. What is this place? He had absolutely no idea where they were and the prospect of entering an unknown house made him feel uneasy. At the same time, Shea obviously knew the place and had been let in without even a question. It raised numerous other questions about Shea and her relationship with the inhabitants of the building and what her business with them had been in the past. What role did they play in the dangerous game she was involved in? Who was she really?

When Shea noticed Wared remained outside, she stopped and faced him. "You coming?"

"What is this place?"

"It's someone I know. That's all you need to know. Hurry up, ok? We're better off away from the streets, don't you think?"

Wared sighed. She was right, of course. He stepped across the threshold. Shea gestured for him to follow and led him down a set of stairs to another door. She pressed a button on the side of the wall and the door slid open.

They stepped into a workshop lined with shelves, full of gadgets, wires and junk electronics. A rectangular table in the center of the room stacked with papers, more assorted discarded electronics and a few dirty dishes. On the far side, the a gray head was bent over underneath a bright lamp, seemingly oblivious of Wared and Shea's presence.

Shea gently closed the door behind them and stepped onto the floor. Wared hesitated on the raised platform by the door, not sure what to do or where to go.

"It's been a while," the figure on the far side of the table said before he was overwhelmed by a coughing fit. Shea motioned for Wared to follow her as she approached the figure. The man cleared his throat, reached for a glass with brown liquid and downed it in one go, then slammed the glass down on the table. He looked up at the approaching duo over the rim of his glasses. Shoulder-length gray hear flowed around his face while week-old stubble covered his face. Piercing yellow eyes that were slightly squinted flicked between the two of them, evaluating, probing.

"What do you need?" he asked as he pushed his glasses back up onto the top of his nose. "You usually only visit when you need something."

"Uncle—" Shea started, her head tilted a little.

The uncle raised a finger in the air. "Don't lie to me. When did you visit me last, hm?"

"I've been out of town," Shea said after a moments hesitation.

"Sure. Who's he?" the uncle said and pointed a wrench towards Wared.

"Uncle Arty, this is Wared," Shea said with a sigh. "Wared, this is my uncle Arty."