"Now here is the design of Port Manuel," he exclaimed.
With a simple press of a button, the screen transformed, revealing a captivating satellite view of the island. "First we venture towards the front, where the tower of the gatekeeper is located," he said.
"What are you referring to when you mention a monitor tower?" Nikki asked.
"The watchman tower is there to keep people away from the Armonk," he figured out, pointing at the red dot that was blinking on the map. "Monitored by warriors are crucial for the strategic aspect of the WFS. They are fully committed to protecting the Armonk and eliminating anyone who dares to approach it."
"Regardless, they should acknowledge you," I said. "You seem to have some inside knowledge."
"However, I don't specialize in the tactical branch," he stated. "Before proceeding, it is essential to obtain their consent. Interestingly, afterwards, it would be necessary to demonstrate my capabilities."
"How do you plan on obtaining their authorization?" Nikki leaned in, curious.
"Well," he said, turning to face us. "We are unable to do so, therefore we will proceed to acquire it."
"How?" I asked.
"That's why we're here," Mr. Drails stated. "Now, if we were to somehow acquire the Armonk, we could temporarily store it elsewhere before returning it to its original location, thus deceiving the TSA into believing the scientist was not truthful," he said. "Additionally, given that we are not part of the military, we wouldn't have to worry about the fighters impeding our progress."
"How could they not stop you since this isn't really a joke," I asked.
"No, they're just regular guys with guns while we have some pretty unique weapons. It'd be difficult for them to do a lot," he said.
"Alright, so how do we gain access?" Malachi asked with great anticipation. Mr. Drails casually scrolled to the front of the port, and promptly as he reached out, certain things emerged, forming distinct clusters. "Firstly, our primary goal is to gain access to the island, and then we can proceed with our navigation," he stated.
"What do you mean by 'proceed with our navigation'?" Nikki asked.
"We need to convince the researchers to open the entrance," he said. "We would need military masks, but we would still need to convince them of our true identities."
"That suggests we would need an ID," September responded, receiving a nod from Mr. Drails. "Love the obvious remarks. However, we only require the ID for a short period," he stated. Nikki smiled confidently, fully aware of what she was talking about. "That's me, isn't it?" she said, pulling out her phone.
"Of course, but our priority is to delve into the structure initially," Mr. Drails said. "With a bit of luck, we'll be able to locate the researchers and convince them to lend us a hand."
"Well, we already obtained the necessary items, so what else could they possibly require?" I asked.
Mr. Drails then, at that point, answered, "Imagine a scenario in which they unexpectedly don't see an ID on us. We would be captured or killed on the spot," he said. "It's highly unlikely that they'll believe our true identities and grant us access."
We all pondered silently, but then Tisiah suddenly exclaimed, "I have an idea!"
"What?" I inquired as we all became captivated by him, especially September.
"There is one person who could make it happen," he said. "He used to be a close associate of mine in the past, prior to your promotion to the Chief position. However, he has since transitioned into a role as an official agent," he remarked.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"His name is Devon Coach," he said. "You might be able to find him at the nearby coffee shop."
"Sounds like a basketball player."
"Is he a problem solver or someone who causes problems?" Nikki asked.
Tisiah responded, "Then why would I suggest him then?"
Nikki gave him a disapproving look, as Mr. Drails asked, "\What else?"
"He has a knack for handling the ID-related tasks, if you catch my drift." "Visas, IDs, driver's permits, bank cards, all those different types," Tisiah remarked, looking at Nikki with a smug tone.
"Okay, well if he's truly exceptional, he should assist us," Mr. Drails remarked. "Tisiah, why don't you head to the cafe and ask if he can lend a hand? We'll ideally begin moving tomorrow, however first we really want to get past the phases of this base."
He acknowledged with a nod. "Alright, when the researcher takes us to Armonk, this is where our expertise comes in: I will be joining you and Malachi, while September and Nikki will stay here," he said, emphasizing the two young ladies. "Then, at that moment, once you're inside, we'll distract the guards, and you all can quietly enter. Now, considering this cloning machine, it might be quite sizable so Nikki can use her abilities to create a distraction, allowing us to enter discreetly," he remarked.
"So, where exactly are we planning to escape to?" I asked.
Mr. Drails responded, "We will change our course through a designated corridor once we reach the Armonk, which should happen fairly soon. From that moment on, we will proceed towards the exterior and then escape using my portal. Now, if there happen to be any guards chasing us, we just have to find a way to deter them. That shouldn't be too difficult, right?"
"Well... they have bolts and we are not completely protected from those. It might be really difficult," I stated.
"Yeah, but we've done worse before," Malachi said, casually putting his arm around me. "We have two agents with perks, so I believe we should be in good shape, don't you agree?"
I gave a nonchalant shrug, unsure of how to respond. "Naturally, I presume," I replied.
"Alright, now Tisiah, you can go fetch Devon Coach while the rest of you can resume your own tasks."
We exited the room and returned to the corridor, just as Tisiah departed. I sensed a strong intuition compelling me to accompany him, so I gently tapped him on the shoulder when I located him. He turned around and looked at me, "Do you need something?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"No, I think it's best to reach out to him by following your lead," I said.
He grinned. "Well, alright then," he said. We departed from the entryway and began to leisurely walk away from the academy compound, down the road.
"How would you even know him?" I asked, curious.
"Gracious, we met previously. He had a secretive role within the organization, and we were close friends. He had a striking resemblance to Malachi, as if they shared similar character traits. I have to admit, he was better than Malachi," he said.
"Really?" I asked.
"Well yeah, he had this notion of being a troublemaker, however I figured out he was really terrified of everything," he said.
I chuckled, "Yeah, that sounds like Malachi a piece. Regardless, I guess you're aware, we could definitely do without lowering our self-esteem.
"That is indeed valid," he chuckled. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and the bustling sounds of the roads brought a sense of calm to my mind, leaving me feeling refreshed. It seemed like today would be much more enjoyable than yesterday. People strolled along the road, crossing at the crosswalks while the sound of engines filled the air as cars passed by. The atmosphere seemed noticeably improved and the sun's rays provided a comforting warmth on my skin, instilling a renewed sense of self-assurance.
I was feeling a bit worn out recently, or fatigued I suppose, but now I feel much better. After a while, we came across a cafe near a park where children were happily playing. A significant number of kids my age were sitting in the seats with their significant others or something like that. Ugh, high school.
As we stepped into the burger joint, I couldn't help but notice the clean and minimalist decor. Behind the counter stood a rather imposing figure, who I assumed was the owner. The counter had a vibrant pattern of red and blue, perfectly complementing the name of the cafe, 'The Limit'. That is quite impressive. "Hey, do any of you require assistance?" he inquired, but we all declined. We searched for him, and I anxiously awaited Tisiah's response or something, but he was nowhere to be found.
"Well, maybe he's got something going on," I said, eager to locate him as soon as possible.
Suddenly, a voice caught my attention. A man with fair hair, blue eyes, and a facial hair growth walked into the entryway. The man's facial hair was neatly trimmed and scattered across his face, complemented by a small mustache. A faint scar could be seen beneath his left eye. As he directed his gaze towards us, his face lit up, and he quickly approached us.
