I thought I was too old to run this fast for this long, but the further I could get from the house, the safer I would be. The tracks were just ahead and the train was due. I ran behind the platform station to catch my breath and dust off the road dirt.
The platform seats were empty with just one early worker on his way downtown. I sat and pulled out exact change. I continued to clean up with wet-wipes and soon looked fully refreshed. The worker spared me not one look.
We were also alone on the train, so I made sure to sit in the corner to be less visible by onlookers. They would find me, of this I had no doubt, but I wouldn't make it easy for them.
Who was after me? I only knew it was men, young men, but those were just the chasers. I was sure there was a leader who could be anyone.
The real question you should be asking is 'Why are they after me?'
That is a question I can answer. I have a flash drive that isn't mine, but not by theft, by mistake. When I began to ask questions as to whom it belonged too, I must have set bells a ringing.
My first hint of trouble was that I felt I was being watched. I took the train twice daily and knew the crowd, but suddenly there were two muscle-bound bouncer types aboard and I kept feeling their gazes. It was creepy. They also followed me home, well they passed my street, but they were both behind me and then disappeared.
They were back the next morning and later that night because being home alone was worse. I no longer doubted myself. I decided to talk with them on the train for I was an innocuous older woman and most folks talked, if just to say hello.
"Are you two new to the neighborhood?" Nothing? I tried Spanish. Nothing? I tried French, but also nothing. I shrugged, but noticed that they both squirmed a bit. They also kept eyeing my purse and tote bags. This was getting creepy.
The train entered the Transit Center Station and I looked around before I left the safety of the train. I saw no one, so exited and headed for work I doubted I would be allowed in, it being close to eleven PM, but it was worth a try.
The skyscraper looked exotic at night, flood lights shining and casting deep shadows. The sign looked absolutely ominous UberGen. It is a German company with a goal of next generation drugs to help people trapped in the current fast food/drug/sedentary cycle. There were high hopes as to the success of one particular drug, TransMu, that was supposed to detoxify current medications and preservatives while calming the patient.
I waited for security and tried to look like I fit in. Two guards headed across the lobby toward me and I smiled. They just stared and I held out my ID for them to see. The door opened and I limped inside trying to look as pitiful as I felt.
"I am locked out of my house and Mr. Stewart said that if I ever needed to stay the night, for whatever reason, I could and you know how much locksmiths charge after hours." They both nodded. It was, luckily, common knowledge that employees were known to stay at the office from time to time.
One, the young one, escorted me up the elevator and made sure my office was empty. He told me to lock the door and have a great night. Whew!
First, I had to eat, drink some water and then coffee, for this would be an all-nighter. It was great to have my own bathroom, couch and a lockable door. Maybe I could catch a nap later.
Coffee circulating, I plugged in the USB drive and was rewarded with access to many files, oddly named files: Beth, John, Jean, Mary Jo and Mike. Inside each were clinical trials for them on TransMu.
I knew it was a trash drug! It leeched the medications the person was taking, but in unpredictable ways. Someone on an antidepressant may suddenly become manic or bedridden. No one knew which way it would go. It chelated the crap out of fast foods, but then could dump them into the bloodstream in a salvo of chemicals. Basically, it could kill you in just a few hours and in imaginative ways.
Great! And I had the flash drive with all the evidence! Yeah, I was dead.
Before I died, I would disperse the info as widely as possible: Anonymous would be first, for once I hit the Fed sites, who were probably involved, the info would go nowhere.
Anonymous, Mother Jones and other groups were done and now it was time for the Feds. Or was it? I decided against it.
Anyone who was monitoring me would find me by the IP address. I drummed my fingers and knew that there had to be one idealistic person working late night at the FBI or DEA. I transmitted info to both and decided to nap until my killers found me. I might as well die while sleeping.
I couldn't sleep and decided to continue transmitting the data and went to Twitter and sent the entire file under #TransMuFatalities. That could get some attention.
Dozing with my head on my arms, I saw an email coming in.
"Help is available. R u safe?"
I responded with a simple NO. Then instructions began.
I told the security guards that my kids had my extra keys and were going to pick me up and take me home. I had no kids; no family at all. No one would miss me.
A silver van pulled up and I hurried to it. A young woman helped me inside and I held my breath not knowing if I was going to be killed or saved.
"Welcome, Mrs. Sloan. Get comfortable and we will have you someplace safe soon."
I nodded and closed my eyes. I could see much better that way. First, if these were Feds, they didn't look, act or smell like them. Patchouli, pot, incense and nervous sweat. These were kids! Excellent!
I must have slept, for the young woman had to shake me at our arrival point. It was a quaint house in the suburbs.
Inside was a bustling group of mostly young folks working on computers and tapping iPhones. I was appraised and given a few nods. A deep voice got my attention.
"Who are you?"
"A nobody who found a flash drive meant for someone else."
The voice was attached to a tall, thin and long haired young man.
"Your news is already half way around the world by the way. Good job."
I nodded. Sleep was grabbing at me with both hands and I could barely communicate. I sat in the corner of an old couch and waited for more communication.
It was dark outside when I stirred again. Eyes were on me.
"You okay, Ma'am?"
Yes, yes, thank you." I stood and stretched, but the sounds of popping and cracking drew so many winces, I stopped.
"Restroom?" I followed a young woman down the hallway noticing every room was packed with equipment in use by all ages of people.
Refreshed, I made my way to the kitchen for a bottle of water and then back to my seat.
"When can I go home?" I asked politely.
They looked at each other before speaking. A young man put up his hands as in holding me off.
"I am afraid you no longer have a home or house. It was burned to the ground by what is being called a gas leak and explosion."
I just stared at him. "Ah, I see. By whom?"
"Still investigating that." I nodded and fingered my purse. Where would I live?
"You will have a house by week's end as a reward."
"A reward? From whom?"
The young man smiled. The Feds, as you call us."
"You aren't... "
"No, Ma,am. Not Anonymous, just agencies who have been trying to shut down the Germans. You did it for us. Thank you."
I nodded.
"Ma'am, one question."
I nodded again.
"It says your age here, but it can't be correct. How old are you?"
"Over sixty, and that is all I will swear to."
I smiled then and stretched out on the couch I had claimed, even accepting a blanket this time. This old woman was tired!
