ROYALTY

There was no answer to my knock. Something had to be wrong; what else could “Wait for MSTRS seven o’clock” mean in Professor Macintyre’s appointment book? Having tried picking the lock with a paperclip and the old credit card trick, both failing miserably since I didn’t actually know how they worked, I was out of ideas. Why couldn’t there be a How to Break into a Hotel Room for Dummies? I looked into the lobby window at the front desk. The only worker was a teenage boy, most likely still in high school, staring intently at a computer screen. I walked into the room and tried to be convincing, “Hey man, I stepped outside for a cigarette and locked myself out of my room. Can I get a spare key?”

He wasn’t too happy that I had interrupted his video games and told me, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to see some ID and credit card information before I can give you a key.”

“I left everything in the room; I didn’t expect to get locked out obviously. Please, it’s really raining hard out there. I’ll bring the key back in a few minutes.” After looking around, seeing no upper management, he handed me the spare key. Wow, I can’t believe that worked!

I slid the key into the slot and opened the door to find some answers. Much to my disappointment, though admittedly slightly to my relief as well, the hotel room was vacant. No mistress, no bag, barely more than a few wrinkles in the sheets, but the TV remote on the bed showed that someone had been here. I had almost given up searching, when I noticed the blinking red light on the telephone. I called the front desk for the messages. “Do you want just the new one or the old one also?” the oh-so-excited desk clerk asked. I requested both, hoping some clue would be in these messages.

The new message was left at 9:15 p.m., “Everything is in place,” a deep, scratchy voice tickled my eardrum, making every hair on my body stand on end. After this brief statement, the old message started, left at 6:58 p.m., this time a somewhat familiar voice came on the line, “Meeting starts tonight, retrace steps. St. John’s 10:45.” I looked at my watch, 10:25. I knew where St. John’s was, the Red Heart Inn was close to it, but Professor Macintyre’s car drove off in the other direction. Retrace steps? What could that mean?

I didn’t have time to sit and think so, after returning the hotel key, I raced to St. John’s. I carried Francis’s tape recorder with me, knowing that if he were still alive, he would have flipped out if I heard anything worth while and didn’t get it recorded. It was dark and looked deserted. The doors to the main church were locked, but a room to the side of it had a piece of tape on the knob, keeping the door slightly open. I peeked inside to see if Macintyre was getting ready for a meeting, but there was only a table and some chairs. 10:35. I was debating leaving and looking for another St. John’s when I saw headlights pass by the window. I ducked and ran for the closet, locking myself in.

I could hear the door to the room open, footsteps going towards the table, back to the door and light switches flip. There was a stream of light in the closet, and I saw an air vent a few feet away. As quietly as I could, though my heart was pounding so hard I thought it sounded like the bass of a stereo turned up all the way, I shifted towards the vent and looked into the room. 10:40. The owner of the footsteps was not my view, but the empty tables and chairs were, as well as the window. At least there was a beautiful view of the White House through the window from my position.

10:43. The footsteps moved towards the table, and I saw the owner, sort of. The back of a cloaked figure anyway, like the ones I saw that fateful night. I was low to the ground and could not see the emblem on the hood, but at least I was at the right place at the right time. Damn, I’m getting lucky tonight. Perfect timing. More footsteps became audible, this time there were multiple people. I turned my phone to silent, learning from my past mistakes.

10:45. All ten figures in matching cloaks finally stood around the table in my view. The figure’s faces were barely more than shadows with the hoods pulled over their heads. I turned on the recorder, hoping it would be strong enough to pick up the words from inside the closet. I was trying to see if I recognized any of them when the meeting started, right on time. The one I assumed was the first figure I saw came around to the front of the table, “My signal to rendezvous succeeds,” the same familiar voice from the hotel message started off. “There are serious problems at hand, which all of you know is the reason for this change of location.” Please, just pull back the hood a little bit, so I can see your face. “Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, Macintyre, have you heard from our government contact yet?”

One of the cloaked figures on the leader’s left hand side, Professor Macintyre, replied, “Not yet. He was supposed to reply by 9:00, but I have no doubt he will have everything in place.”

“This is a complex plot, Macintyre. You assured us he had the ability to set up the traps properly. They all need to go off at the same time, and be traced back to foreign terrorists groups. Do I need to remind you what will happen if you fail us?” The cloaked figure on the right hand side of the leader spoke harshly and condescendingly to Macintyre. I had no doubt this figure was Snovil. Not only was his voice familiar and his nose crooked, he was in the habit of being an ass to everyone, including his colleagues.

“We have tested his capabilities and loyalties time and time again, Snovil, I have no doubt he will succeed.” The leader calmly affirmed my suspicions.

“Yes, of course Sire.” Snovil for once was silenced into agreement.

“Back to the problems of which I was speaking earlier, we know that a student named Francis was accumulating too much information about us. He is now, thanks to our deadly little Nicola, deceased, but we do not know the information he acquired or to whom he released it. We do not know how much he heard in the meeting he infiltrated, or his follow up, but he knows about ROYALTY.” Nicola? Thanks to Nicola? They thought Francis was in the meeting. He was murdered for finding out about ROYALTY. “It seems he did release at least some of this information, because we found a spy following Macintyre.” As he said this, the door burst open and I saw Billy being dragged in by a woman. As the cloaked figures turned to look at my intern, the light hit their faces perfectly and I recognized every single one. Dean Dume sat at the head of the table, with Snovil to his right, Macintyre to his left, and every esteemed member of the faculty sitting around the table.

Everything happened so fast, as I watched my young friend. His hands were tied and he was interrogated by the same people who not only killed my roommate, but are plotting somehow against the government, all the while giving me my college education. They violently asked him over and over how long he had been working for Francis, and what he knew. They asked if anyone else knew about ROYALTY. Luckily, with all his practice of not talking in the investigation, he couldn’t get a full sentence out, which gave me a couple seconds to think. I couldn’t leave him unattended with a group of powerful murderers, but they also didn’t appear to be armed, though they could be hiding anything in those cloaks.

I had evidence against them, even if it was just the torture and interrogation of Billy, if the tape recorder worked. I knew their acronyms, not what ROYALTY stood for exactly, but I could probably figure that out. MSTRS didn’t seem to be too difficult, some sort of code. It was at the hotel at 7:00, ‘Meeting Starts Tonight, Retrace Steps’ MSTRS, and again it was the first sentence at the meeting ‘My Signal To Rendezvous Succeeds’ MSTRS. The real problem was trying to get away before they caught us both, and possibly killed us. I don’t know which was stronger, my fear of the powerful, dangerous teachers standing before me, or the anger I had towards them for murdering my friend, and apparently making some sort of assassination attempt in the near future. I looked at my perfect view of the White House and knew I could not just hide and watch them torture Billy. Before I knew what I was doing, I had unlocked the door, ran out, to the surprise of everyone in the room, grabbed Billy and made a run for it. I looked back for a brief moment, to find 20 furious eyes glaring at me.