Lockout (The Alpha Group 2)

"No worries. Thanks, Thomas."

"My pleasure."

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd just done as he asked. It was one of those seemingly inconsequential decisions that turns out to have massive ramifications.

Instead of sitting and waiting, I couldn't resist the urge to have a little wander. It was becoming clear that I may never get the chance to see Sebastian's actual office, but that didn't mean I couldn't check out the building a little. I was still incredibly curious about the sorts of things they did.

The bottom story appeared to be mostly admin staff; young women in blouses and dark pencil skirts bustling back and forward down long corridors. A few of them shot me strange looks, but nobody stopped me, so I figured I wasn't in breach of any major rules.

I didn't intend to wander very far, just enough to get a glimpse of what went on back there, but the place was a maze, and at some point I managed to get turned around. Before I knew it, I found myself standing in a narrow corridor that was devoid of doors or people. It felt like I'd gradually been moving in a loop, so I headed to the end and turned the corner, expecting to be taken back to the main access point.

Instead, I found something that caused my mouth to drop open.

This hallway was shorter, and it had a door. Just one. The access keypad off to one side said that I wasn't going any further in that direction. Not that I needed to. The door itself told me everything I needed to know. There was no signage, nothing to indicate what lay beyond. That is, except for the small golden letter A that was inscribed on the surface.

There was a grinding sensation in my head, the feeling of a host of gears all suddenly clicking into place. I knew now why that symbol had looked so familiar. This wasn't the first door I'd seen it on. I thought back to the night Sebastian and I had met, to the hidden offices I'd inadvertently prowled through. The name tags had thrown me off, but now I remembered; they were all marked the same way.

Something heavy and dark began to claw at my stomach. I'd asked Sebastian outright about the tattoo, and he'd lied. There was clearly a lot more to it than a drunken generic design. All the strange occurrences and eccentricities that he'd talked his way out of raced through my head. The hidden offices, the secret parties, the strange documents, they were all tied to this. They had to be. Each one taken by itself was fairly innocuous, but throw in the dead man on the news, and this one tiny symbol suddenly pulled it all together into something much more sinister.

Who the fuck were these people?

Somehow, I found my way back to the lifts and threw myself down heavily on the sofa. I had no idea what to do. It wasn't fair. Things between Sebastian and I had finally felt like they were making sense. I'd been happy dammit. But now I could feel that slowly bleeding out of me, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear.

I'd known there were things about his job he had to keep quiet. I'd accepted that. But I'd assumed that meant client names and project details and other random minutia. This was something else entirely. Part of me wanted to just ignore it, to shove it under the rug in the back of my mind and let things continue the way they had been, but I knew that wasn't possible. I had to know what on earth I was dealing with.

A few moments later, the lift doors split open and Thomas and Sebastian strode out. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," Sebastian said, grinning at me, although the smile fell rapidly when he caught sight of my face. "Sophia, what's wrong?"

Thomas seemed to sense my mood had changed. "I've got something to take care of," he said, shooting me a curious look before heading in the direction of the main foyer. I was thankful for the privacy.

I stared at Sebastian for a few seconds, uncertain where to even begin. "Why can't I come upstairs?" I asked eventually.

That seemed to catch him off guard. "Sorry. I know it's a bit strange. It's just company policy."

"So you're not hiding anything up there?"

Something flickered across his face ever so briefly. "What would I be hiding?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

He looked puzzled by that. Slipping onto the seat next to me, he placed one hand gently on my knee. "I don't understand. What's this about?"

I didn't answer directly. "Do you remember what you told me that night outside my house," I said instead, "the night before you went away? 'I promise I'll never lie to you.'"

He nodded slowly. "I remember."

"So why did you?"

There was a pause. "I'm not sure what you mean."

I sighed. I hadn't really expected him to just spill everything of his own accord, but it had been worth a try. "Let me be more direct then. Why is there a door back there," I nodded towards the centre of the building, "that has the same mark on it as the one on your chest?"

His eyes widened. There were a few seconds of stunned silence. "I think you must be mistaken," he said shakily, but even he didn't sound convinced.

I felt a small flash of anger, but I smothered it. I'd already overreacted once with him. I wanted to give him a chance to explain. "Please, at least do me the courtesy of dropping the act now. I'm not stupid, Sebastian. I know what I saw. I saw it that first night we met as well, I just didn't remember until now."

He had a panicked look in his eyes now, his pupils madly darting left and right. "I'm sorry," he said eventually.

"I don't want apologies, Sebastian. I want explanations!"

He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the floor. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I'm asking for you to be honest with me. That's all. It's pretty clear you're not who you say you are, and between the secret offices, the strange symbols, and the dead foreign dignitaries, this has me confused and to be honest, a little frightened."

His eyes shot up to meet mine, and any lingering doubts I'd had about the connection vanished. "Dead foreign dignitaries?"

I nodded. "I saw a dead man on the news a few weeks ago. A British politician. He had the same tattoo as you, only on his arm. At the time I thought it was just a coincidence, but your reaction basically confirms that it's not."

He gazed at me, his face utterly distraught. It was the look of a man with an impossible choice to make, and it sent a fresh wave of dread rolling through me. After all we'd shared since that night at my house, I'd honestly been expecting us to get past this. It had felt like he finally trusted me, and that it was only a matter of time before the rest of his walls came down too. But now I wasn't so sure. Whatever he was still hiding was apparently bigger than everything else. Was it bigger than what he felt for me?