I didn’t recognize him. I even asked Cole if he had ever seen him before, at any of our fundraisers or meetings. Cole was at a loss for words, too. He was wearing our colors, Grey…and to top it off, sitting in our section, staring at the debate if he was some fucking emotionless robot!”
Grey seemed perplexed. Like he was piecing together information in his mind.
“Who let him in?” I asked, my voice rising. “That’s the same question I asked Cole, and he replied with, “ Relax, he got through security .” About a minute before I stood up, I saw Alexei press a button on his watch, and it was a timer. It started counting up. I had to say something to security because I knew Alexei was bad news. I knew he didn’t belong.”
There was a long pause. I was breathing heavily, and my jaw was clenched in frustration.
“You’ve given them the perfect story, Owen,” Grey announced. “You’ve given them everything they need to make it believable. Your background in chemistry, your knowledge of the layout of Georgetown from having attended there. Those are exactly the kind of pieces the gullible American public would need pieced together for them by the media, in order to turn their political hero, into a terrorist.”
I felt nauseous. His words pierced my mind. I could feel a headache coming on. He was right .
“Owen, you look lightheaded. Sit down, man,” Grey demanded.
He stood up and sat me down on the sofa. The sickening, churning motion I felt in my stomach had not lessened—it was only growing stronger. I tried to exhale slowly to ease my racing heart.
“They have my dad…” I murmured.
Grey stared at me and remained silent.
“Do you think he is safe?”
“If he is being held by the people who created this lie, then no—not at all.”
“…We ask for everyone in the greater Richmond area to let authorities know if they have any information regarding Owen Marina’s whereabouts. He is riding a highly-modified, black Yamaha YZF-R1 with Maryland tags. His tag number is VRE-487. Please call the CIA’s hotline toll-free at 1-888-FIND HIM…”
“Do your neighbors keep to themselves?” I asked.
“Typically, yes, I can have a couple people over, smoke weed on my back porch, and no one ever bothers me. Then again, I’ve never had a wanted fugitive over my house, either,” he answered. Sarcasm riddled his words.
I recalled seeing only four houses, including Grey’s, on the dead-end road he lived on. The street was less than a mile away from the Pocahontas State Park. The area was rural and wooded.
“Let’s hope they keep to themselves today,” I said.
Grey stood up and peeked through the split in the blinds. He turned back to me and slipped his cell phone out of his pocket.
“It’s been fifteen minutes since you got here. If someone saw you and reported it, some form of law enforcement would be here. Fifteen more minutes and we should be in the clear…at least for tonight.”
“You don’t mind me staying?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” I answered.
“What made you come here? Out of all places. I’m just curious. We haven’t talked in almost two years.”
His expression was cold as he stated that fact, like he was upset that I hadn’t kept in touch.
“That’s exactly the reason I came here. The last time I talked to you it was on an entirely different phone, and phone number. My dad told me to go somewhere they wouldn’t know to look, to someone I hadn’t talked to in a long time. You were the first person that came to mind.”
He didn’t respond. He just sat across from me and stared. Perhaps he was still absorbing my explanation.
“Well, despite the circumstances, it is nice to see you, Owen. I wish we would have kept in touch more, man. Then again, the Confinement kind of fucked that up. How was the D.C. Camp?”
“Shitty,” I blurted. “How was the Richmond Camp?”
“The same.
Grey seemed perplexed. Like he was piecing together information in his mind.
“Who let him in?” I asked, my voice rising. “That’s the same question I asked Cole, and he replied with, “ Relax, he got through security .” About a minute before I stood up, I saw Alexei press a button on his watch, and it was a timer. It started counting up. I had to say something to security because I knew Alexei was bad news. I knew he didn’t belong.”
There was a long pause. I was breathing heavily, and my jaw was clenched in frustration.
“You’ve given them the perfect story, Owen,” Grey announced. “You’ve given them everything they need to make it believable. Your background in chemistry, your knowledge of the layout of Georgetown from having attended there. Those are exactly the kind of pieces the gullible American public would need pieced together for them by the media, in order to turn their political hero, into a terrorist.”
I felt nauseous. His words pierced my mind. I could feel a headache coming on. He was right .
“Owen, you look lightheaded. Sit down, man,” Grey demanded.
He stood up and sat me down on the sofa. The sickening, churning motion I felt in my stomach had not lessened—it was only growing stronger. I tried to exhale slowly to ease my racing heart.
“They have my dad…” I murmured.
Grey stared at me and remained silent.
“Do you think he is safe?”
“If he is being held by the people who created this lie, then no—not at all.”
“…We ask for everyone in the greater Richmond area to let authorities know if they have any information regarding Owen Marina’s whereabouts. He is riding a highly-modified, black Yamaha YZF-R1 with Maryland tags. His tag number is VRE-487. Please call the CIA’s hotline toll-free at 1-888-FIND HIM…”
“Do your neighbors keep to themselves?” I asked.
“Typically, yes, I can have a couple people over, smoke weed on my back porch, and no one ever bothers me. Then again, I’ve never had a wanted fugitive over my house, either,” he answered. Sarcasm riddled his words.
I recalled seeing only four houses, including Grey’s, on the dead-end road he lived on. The street was less than a mile away from the Pocahontas State Park. The area was rural and wooded.
“Let’s hope they keep to themselves today,” I said.
Grey stood up and peeked through the split in the blinds. He turned back to me and slipped his cell phone out of his pocket.
“It’s been fifteen minutes since you got here. If someone saw you and reported it, some form of law enforcement would be here. Fifteen more minutes and we should be in the clear…at least for tonight.”
“You don’t mind me staying?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” I answered.
“What made you come here? Out of all places. I’m just curious. We haven’t talked in almost two years.”
His expression was cold as he stated that fact, like he was upset that I hadn’t kept in touch.
“That’s exactly the reason I came here. The last time I talked to you it was on an entirely different phone, and phone number. My dad told me to go somewhere they wouldn’t know to look, to someone I hadn’t talked to in a long time. You were the first person that came to mind.”
He didn’t respond. He just sat across from me and stared. Perhaps he was still absorbing my explanation.
“Well, despite the circumstances, it is nice to see you, Owen. I wish we would have kept in touch more, man. Then again, the Confinement kind of fucked that up. How was the D.C. Camp?”
“Shitty,” I blurted. “How was the Richmond Camp?”
“The same.
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