THE ROOM

Pam Johnson briskly walked along one of the many busy, crowded streets of Langley, Virginia. She was headed to the headquarters of the CIA, which was, as a matter of fact, directly across the street. Her warm hands came in contact with the chilled metal of the huge door in front of her and she recoiled. Pam was always alert, ready for danger even when danger wasn’t ready for her. Walking inside, she exchanged glances with almost everyone inside the building, but in a manner so no one noticed and she was the only one glancing. Pam trusted not one human being on the planet and her tightly bonneted blonde hair, square glasses, her business-like clothes, and her fast paced walk told everyone that noticed her she meant business. She walked up to the elevator and pressed the UP button. She walked inside the elevator, pulled one of her keys out and turned it in the emergency keyhole, then pressed the red button labeled “In Case Of Emergency”. Then, Pam pressed the button combination on the elevator floor list 911. This triggered a series of metal ropes to turn in a way they’re not used to so a hideous metal screeching noise emanated and made Pam almost want to puke. Pam was highly claustrophobic and the grinding of the elevator got to her. She was wrenching the doors open, struggling to get out, but then, the elevator lurched downwards. 20-25 grueling seconds later, there was a DING! a door sliding open, and a relieved Pam stumbled out, happy to be alive.

“Morning Johnson” greeted Alan Blunt when Pam walked inside his office. “You have a new very top secret assignment waiting for you at your desk.” Alan Blunt was the head of CIA, except no one knew that. Above ground was a fake agency posing as the CIA but an underground base was built specifically for highly trained undercover agents. CIA underground bases were at almost every major city in the world but Pam was in the headquarters, so obviously this was the headquarters too. She stepped out of the office and looked around her. This was one of the most top-secret bases known to man and this base was enormous. Because of its underground infrastructure, it was made of the strongest metals, brick, and brimstone and hundreds of people came here every day. It was like an exact replica of the above ground building, except this one was underground. Walking in her brisk manner, Pam arrived at her purposely-spacey office and sat down in her chair. A big fat bunch of papers sat there and she noticed a new paper sticking out. It was labeled “Surry County Power Plant”. Opening up the warm bundle fresh from the printer she read that Surry County was in fact a nuclear power plant and a psychopathic war criminal named discreetly “Surkov” was planning to blow open the reactors and unleash the chemical radiation to all within a 500-mile radius. Pam had only one specific assignment… stop him!

Two hours later, Pam Johnson, or in other words, Alice Mason, (her undercover name) arrived at the power plant quickly. It was a short two-hour drive from Langley. Kim Mason, who had been working at Surry Power Plant all her working career reported suspicious behavior from a specific employee named Jimmy. The name didn’t match up and Kim saw him hanging around the plant after everyone left so she called the police. His picture was linked to the CIA and they found him as Surkov, an insane bomber who created nuclear bombs and unleashed them in the middle east. He escaped after being found and was never seen again… until now. Pam was posing as Kim’s sister, Alice, and was supposedly showing her around the plant. Pam was actually going to stop the plant from exploding. No one could know about the explosion or there would be a full-fledged panic and they would lose Surkov. Not even Kim knew about it. She thought Pam was investigating. “I’m starting to get really scared,” Kim said, “Is this guy like crazy or something?” “Oh no, just the local runaway criminal,” replied Pam, “Nothing to worry about. I’m going to go and check up ahead for him.”
“Oh, ok, please hurry I really, really don’t want to be left alone for too long,” replied Kim. There was a swelling pride inside Pam’s chest and she knew she was starting to trust this nice woman. Big mistake. SLAM! Pam was thrown against the wall, slammed downwards, and held in a tight lock with surprisingly strong hands. “Why? Why would you call for help if you were just going to take me?” screamed the woman held in a tight lock. “We needed to lure someone in to make that pathetic CIA of yours think they were doing something right. Obviously they thought wrong!” cackled Kim. The next thing Kim did was so startling, Pam almost choked in disbelief. Kim tore off a plastic face covering and threw a microphone to the ground, obviously for voice changing purposes. Surkov laughed and smiled and in a thick, middle eastern accent, he said “When I blow this place apart, you’ll be the first one to go! Hahahahaha!” And with that, she was knocked out with a quick punch to the face, thrown into a room, and locked inside. Surkov smiled. His plan was nearly complete.

Ten minutes later, Pam steadily regained consciousness. Looking at her surroundings she found herself in a small tightly cramped room. The peeled paint and slimy, greasy ground caused her to gag and she knew she had to quickly overcome her phobia or it would cost Pam her life. All of her belongings, including her knife and gun had been stripped from her but… Surkov had been careless. Her hair beret remained. She swiftly took it out and attempted to pick the lock but there wasn’t one. She was locked from the inside. Even when throwing herself against the door, nothing happened. The paint was starting to make her gag and it was obvious the fumes were going to render Pam unconscious once again in a few minutes time. The Paint! She stumbled to the wall of peeling paint and recklessly kicked at the wall. If the wall hadn’t been painted for a while, the wall itself must be old. Sure enough, after the fourth heavy kick, the wall collapsed and Pam stepped out. She knew where Surkov was, and she had to stop him.

Surkov stretched and rendered the finishing touches on his last explosive detonator. If you looked at them a certain way, the explosives made a circle around the reactors. “Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies,” the psychopathic man hummed to himself, “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down! Hahahahaha!” He fell on his back and cackled a disgustingly evil laugh. “Now to make the finishing touches…” Surkov turned the reactors all the way up to the highest temperature and he knew that his plan was finally complete.