The story so far:
Chapter 2
by hockart
Angel notices that the answer surprises both men, but their reaction only deepens his sense of confusion. He shuts his eyes and tries to regulate his breathing, hoping his mind will calm enough to permit the jumble of memories to untangle into coherence.
The doctor continues: “Can you tell me what you remember before you woke up here?"
Angel tries to answer but his lips are gummed together. The doctor quickly pours a glass of water for him. After taking a few sips and some more deep breaths, he tries again: “A few days ago my commander called me into his office to brief me on an anonymous piece of information that had been passed along to him that morning regarding an organization we had started keeping tabs on recently.”
Angel feels his mind beginning to pull itself together, and his recollections are gaining momentum and confidence: “We don’t know what they call themselves, only that they are masters at covering their movements and keeping their members’ identities secret. And despite our investigations into the group’s size and true purpose, we were making little progress in uncovering any specific threat to President McKinley, but our instincts were in agreement that they were planning something massive.”
As Angel’s memory gains stability, his demeanor shifts into more of an official stance and he continues: “So naturally, I was intrigued at the prospect of getting any kind of a lead; which, in this case, was a bill of lading for chemicals explicitly used for the production of explosives. I discovered their destination was a warehouse in one of the most dangerous parts of Georgetown. I left a message on my commander’s desk, went down to Georgetown and broke in.”
The doctor raises a hand to pause the narrative: “You’re a law officer and you broke into a building? Your commanding officer didn’t take issue with that?”
Angel had encountered this kind of disbelief before and had a more or less pre-packaged response for it: “I am sworn to uphold the law, yes. But because our response to any threat to the President must be swift, we must be permitted a certain amount of latitude in order to perform our duties with any efficacy.”
The answer seems to satisfy the doctor, who nods his encouragement to continue while scribbling furiously on a note pad.
“Not wanting to draw any attention to myself, I waited for nightfall before breaking in. In spite of being in a dangerous area, there was still a chance of a beat cop crossing my path. I made my way to the roof and entered through a row of ventilation windows. Once I had climbed back down to ground level I headed for the building’s only source of light, shining through the gap at the bottom of a door.
“I paused next to the door for several moments and listened closely for any sound from inside. When I was certain that I was alone, I tried the door and found it was unlocked. What I expected to find when I opened it was the small, dingy kind of office one would find in a warehouse. What I found was one of the most lavishly appointed offices I’d ever seen.”
The expression on the officious man’s face is that of one who does not buy one word of what Angel has been telling them. A silent warning accompanies the steady gaze: “If you’re making this up, I will find out.”
Oblivious, the doctor resumes writing as Angel continues. “I suddenly had the feeling that either I’d made a terrible mistake and blundered into the wrong address or I was being led on a wild goose chase. I was about to go back into the warehouse when I noticed a folder lying on the desk. The first paper I saw when I opened the folder read:
The doctor continues: “Can you tell me what you remember before you woke up here?"
Angel tries to answer but his lips are gummed together. The doctor quickly pours a glass of water for him. After taking a few sips and some more deep breaths, he tries again: “A few days ago my commander called me into his office to brief me on an anonymous piece of information that had been passed along to him that morning regarding an organization we had started keeping tabs on recently.”
Angel feels his mind beginning to pull itself together, and his recollections are gaining momentum and confidence: “We don’t know what they call themselves, only that they are masters at covering their movements and keeping their members’ identities secret. And despite our investigations into the group’s size and true purpose, we were making little progress in uncovering any specific threat to President McKinley, but our instincts were in agreement that they were planning something massive.”
As Angel’s memory gains stability, his demeanor shifts into more of an official stance and he continues: “So naturally, I was intrigued at the prospect of getting any kind of a lead; which, in this case, was a bill of lading for chemicals explicitly used for the production of explosives. I discovered their destination was a warehouse in one of the most dangerous parts of Georgetown. I left a message on my commander’s desk, went down to Georgetown and broke in.”
The doctor raises a hand to pause the narrative: “You’re a law officer and you broke into a building? Your commanding officer didn’t take issue with that?”
Angel had encountered this kind of disbelief before and had a more or less pre-packaged response for it: “I am sworn to uphold the law, yes. But because our response to any threat to the President must be swift, we must be permitted a certain amount of latitude in order to perform our duties with any efficacy.”
The answer seems to satisfy the doctor, who nods his encouragement to continue while scribbling furiously on a note pad.
“Not wanting to draw any attention to myself, I waited for nightfall before breaking in. In spite of being in a dangerous area, there was still a chance of a beat cop crossing my path. I made my way to the roof and entered through a row of ventilation windows. Once I had climbed back down to ground level I headed for the building’s only source of light, shining through the gap at the bottom of a door.
“I paused next to the door for several moments and listened closely for any sound from inside. When I was certain that I was alone, I tried the door and found it was unlocked. What I expected to find when I opened it was the small, dingy kind of office one would find in a warehouse. What I found was one of the most lavishly appointed offices I’d ever seen.”
The expression on the officious man’s face is that of one who does not buy one word of what Angel has been telling them. A silent warning accompanies the steady gaze: “If you’re making this up, I will find out.”
Oblivious, the doctor resumes writing as Angel continues. “I suddenly had the feeling that either I’d made a terrible mistake and blundered into the wrong address or I was being led on a wild goose chase. I was about to go back into the warehouse when I noticed a folder lying on the desk. The first paper I saw when I opened the folder read:
Date: 4 July, 1901
Location: District of Columbia
Target: Wm. McKinley
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