Spoiler Alert: They Ain't Gonna Make It

36. Sweet Tea

Hi guys!

Just a heads up, this is an extremely long chapter. It's 6,341 words!

But be prepared, it's a plot twist.

(It seems like there's a plot twist in every chapter.)

Anyway, I give you...

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HARRY

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Harry stared for longer than he should. He didn't have time for this. He needed to keep moving.

But he was supposed to save them.

~Flashback~

"Harry, you were supposed to save all of the people," Danny scolded, marking something down in his clipboard.

Harry was back in his second grade spy-training class. He was doing the required weekly testing with his instructor, Danny. The testing was a fake mission simulation that he had to carry out in the 3D graphics laid around the room. Projections of enemy bad guys were randomly scattered throughout the fake but real looking streets of New York, all carrying different weapons. Harry had to get past them to save the thirty hostages tied up in a warehouse.

Unlike most projections, these ones could physically hurt Harry. If he ran into one of the projected brick walls, it felt as if he were running into a real brick wall. If he tripped over a fake curbs, he'd feel the same impact he would if he literally tripped over a curbs. If he got shot by a honogramed bullet, it would feel as if he were hit with a real bullet.

He had gotten passed the hologram bad guys easily, going in the warehouse to save the hostages. And he had saved the hostages. Well, all but ten.

"I know," seven year old Harry said between heavy breaths. "I didn't have time."

Danny scoffed. "That is no excuse! Do it again!"

Harry spent the next six hours under the simulation. And for all of those six hours, he was unable to save the ten hostages.

And every year after that when he tested in the simulation, he was always unable to save ten hostanges. Always.

~Present~

In front of him lay five dead bodies. Lely. Sam. Joseph. Sarah. Key. Only five.

Harry knew there would be ten deaths. He knew that ten people would die.

He knew he would fail.

Shaking his head, Harry pressed forward, going into the girl's locker room, his gun pointed before him. Even though he's practiced for this moment for his entire life, Harry's blood was coursing with adrenaline. He knew ten people were going to die, he knew that from the beginning.

But whether or not he was going to be one of those ten people, he didn't know.

~Flashback~

"We know that the National Association of Congress is planning something diabolical and that is has to do with Jefferson Middle School," Danny explained to thirteen year old Harry.

On the desk between the instructor and Harry was a folder carrying Harry's first mission. It held information about the National Association of Congress, Jefferson Middle School, and all the people involved.

Harry was excited, bouncing around in his seat. It was his first mission ever! How could he not be excited?!

"They became partners in education with the school last Tuesday," Danny went on. "A national organization becoming friends with a school is a bit strange, even if the CEO's son goes to that school."