(Well, I noticed Raptor is now officially longer than the Moor. I suppose it might not be a short story after all. Oh well)

Elijah glanced over as two security came back into  the room and un-cuffed his hands, even though they had been put on only minute before. The man didn’t say anything till the two had left.

When the door closed, he glanced back up at Elijah.

“You have any idea what the Correlation is? Besides what the media says?”

Elijah crossed his arms, wings included. He shook his head.

“Science,” he murmured. And a military operation.

“Experimental science. Also illegal. That’s why we created a black operation to shut them down. Stanfield runs it.  If you’re telling me the truth, that means that he is playing double agent.”

“Yeah.”

“So are you? Because I don’t think you are: you run your dad’s corporation, but you’re also a biochemist. You’re right up the alley for working with the Correlation.”

“That’s what Adrian was told.”

“And was that correct? What’s your proof?”

Elijah crossed his arms. Proof? Of all the weird things that have happened over the past, what? Three, two days? He couldn’t remember how long it had been since the crash. And he couldn’t think of any proof. He supposed he could call Don, his lawyer. He knew.
But there was last night. The highway.

“I suppose you heard about the accident last night,” Elijah answered, hesitantly. “On the highway?”

“With the gunman and the flying monkey?”

“That was me.”

“What are you trying by this?”

“That the gunman was an asset of the Correlation and that he was after me, and same with the police. When the traffic stalled they pulled up beside the bus. I got out.  That’s when the chase and the crashes started, once the asset joined in. There were two people shot. A man driving a truck I got into, and myself. I got the bullet hole in my leg if you want to see it.”
The man shifted, but didn’t say anything. He looked at Elijah as if he was weighing his words against his face. And Elijah wasn’t sure how he was going to take them.

“You don’t know who the gunman was, do you?” Elijah said.  “Or where the cops got the idea to go after me?”

“I can believe your story. But tell me, where do the wings come from?”

“I don’t have an answer for you.”

There was a buzz from the phone on the desk. The man waited for it to ring again. Then he turned around and picked it up.

“This is David Underwood.”

Elijah waited. He couldn’t hear anything from the other line. But he supposed it wasn’t much; Underwood hung up the phone and turned to face him again.

“Well, you’re right about something,” he said.  “Your Adrian hasn’t clocked in, but Stanfield has.”

Elijah felt a shaky breath come out of him.

“Where’s Stanfield?” he asked, sharply.

“We’ll take care of him, but where’s Webber?” Underwood stood up now from leaning against the desk.

“I have no idea,” Elijah answered. “They have a base in Chad but I doubt they would take her there. If you want to find her get Stanfield. And I assume you know where he is.”

“No. But it won’t take too long to find him.” Underwood started towards the door. “Come with me.”

Elijah followed him as he slid the glass door open. They started to weave their way through the cubicles,  towards the hall. Elijah stumbled.

“Can you walk?” Underwood looked over his shoulder.

“Fine,” Elijah answered.

They went into a the hallway and entered an elevator. Elijah watched as Underwood punched in one of the low levels, right beneath the first. Then they both stood facing the doors as it started down.

“We’re going to get your leg patched up,” Underwood said. He had his hands clasped in front of him.

“What about Stanfield?” Elijah asked. He couldn’t hold in his surprise.

“I told you, we’ll take care of him.”

“And Adrian?”

Now Underwood looked over at him. They were eye to eye with Underwood slouching against the wall.

“You’ll take care of her.”

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