In the years surrounding his father’s sudden disappearance Andrew hadn’t missed a single weekly visit to the Golden Dragon. The two would eat together every Friday. His father was the only family Andrew had left, and every week he would walk in half-expecting to see him waiting at their usual table, only to be greeted by an empty booth.
He could make out a waiter walking briskly toward his table, but there was something different. The waiter arrived and handed Andrew the check and a fortune cookie. Andrew signed the check and handed the folder back to the waiter without raising his head, and started at his cookie. He noticed the waiter was still standing slightly behind him. Andrew turned around to face him.
“Do you need anything?” Andrew looked into the man’s face. The waiter’s face was flushed, with a few drops of sweat beginning to form on his brow.
“You need to read your fortune,” the waiter answered, with a nervous expression on his face.
“Why do you need to be here when I do? Aren’t these things supposed to be personal?” Andrew said.
“I need to make sure you read it.”
“Whatever.” Andrew said under his breath, and turned back to the cookie sitting on the zodiac place mat. He cracked it in half.
Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return. Say nothing.
Andrew sat staring at the paper for a moment, stunned. He turned back around.
“What’s the meaning of this? Is this some kind of jo-” Andrew stopped mid-sentence. The waiter was gone. The din of the crowded dining room took no notice of the strange occurrence and Andrew removed his napkin from his lap and slowly walked to the restroom, head swiveling on his shoulders as he pondered the fortune cookie’s message. A suited man rose from a table near the kitchen entrance and followed.
Andrew pushed open the chipped white door to the men’s room and went to the sink. He scrubbed his hands. The door creaked open and slammed shut. A large man in a grey suit stared at him through the grubby mirror.
“Can I help you?” Andrew said.
The man stared at Andrew. “Are you Andrew Duncan?”
Andrew turned off the sink and snatched a paper towel from the dispenser. He turned to face the man and wiped his hands. “Who wants to know?”
“My name is Michael Sullivan. You shouldn’t have come here tonight; you’re in great danger.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know. Listen. I come here every Friday for the buffet without so much as a nod from the staff. Now all of a sudden I get a slip of paper inside my fortune cookie and I’m being threatened? I want to know what’s going on!” Andrew’s voice rose as he continued his rant. Michael stared him in the eyes. “Are you just going to stand here in my way or what?” Andrew waved his arms and motioned at Michael to step aside.
“I’m here to help you.” Michael stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. His suit opened up slightly and from under the lapel Andrew noticed a black knob protruding slightly. “We only have a limited window of opportunity to leave the city. Do you have everything you need?” Michael leaned against the wall and glanced out the window and at the door as he spoke.
“Yeah I guess. When do we have to leave?”
“Right now.” Michael had already moved to the door, which he held slightly ajar, and was scanning the dining area. “We can’t leave this way though. It’s too visible.” He gently closed the door and walked back over to the window, where he peered out into the garbage-ridden alley. On the left side of the window a concrete wall blocked access to the other half of the alley. Soggy cardboard boxes were piled high in a sagging mountain against the concrete wall. Michael looked to the right to see the opening of the narrow alley, partially obscured by an overflowing dumpster covered in graffiti. “The alley looks clear. Time to go.” He announced as he opened the window further and climbed out.
Andrew clambered out the window after him and dropped down the six feet to the street. He landed on a ripped trash bag from the dumpster and his right foot sloshed into a mound of egg foo young. Andrew looked down in disgust. “Ugh. Why?” He walked stiff-legged to the cardboard mountain to wipe his shoe off. “I just got these shoes a week ago, you know?” he called over to Michael.
“Stop worrying about your shoes and just stay quiet. We’ve got bigger things to worry about right about now.” Michael shot back. He pulled out a phone and tapped two buttons before bringing it to his ear. “Baker, it’s Sullivan. Alley next to the Golden Dragon. We’re ready for pick-up. Yeah I’ve got him.” Michael stood in the middle of the alley with his feet planted widely as he spoke. His coat hung open and Andrew got a better look at him. The grip of a nine millimeter pistol hung out from a shoulder holster under the coat, and Andrew could just see the outline of a vest underneath Michael’s shirt. “We’re going to sit tight here.”
Andrew’s eyes widened at Michael’s statement. “You guys like CIA or something?” Andrew said.
“Sort of.” Michael leaned against the brick wall. “Before you were born your father worked with our company testing early prototypes for our semi-organic implants. When you were born your genes were sequenced and you have very close matches to his, to the point of… usefulness.” Michael said. “We followed you to the restaurant and paid the staff to assist us in verifying your identity. They brought us your teacup and we did a field sequence of your DNA.”
“So what, you want me because of my genes? That’s it?” Andrew straightened up as he spoke.
“You can help change the lives of thousands.” Michael continued. “There are those who would see that it never happens, though, and that is why you are in danger. You see in order for our work to happen you need to be alive. Your father was murdered four days ago. We only found him yesterday. We need you to continue our work.”
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