Paxton snapped back to consciousness. He looked around to realize that he was in an office. The office was decorated with very nice and expensive furniture. He looked in front to see a solid, red oak desk. When he looked down, he saw the smelling salts wrapped up in paper. The chemicals had forced him from his peaceful slumber.
He looked to the left and winced at the pain in his neck. The wound had been bandaged up. Why did they save him? Why didn’t they just let him die? As he was still coming to, he could feel the cold, solid steel wrapped around his wrists. He began to move his hands.
“Don’t bother,” an Agent said. “You’re strapped in tight.”
Paxton ignored the pain and moved his head further left. He recognized the man as the squad leader from the lab. The Agent still had that stupid grin on his face. He loved his job too much, which made him a very, very evil man, Paxton thought. Paxton coughed and looked straight down.
“Where am I?” he demanded.
“Inside the Consul’s office, of course. He would very much like to speak with you. He’s got a lot of questions.”
“I’m afraid I’m short on answers.”
Paxton could feel the tape that attached the gauze to his neck start to come free. He coughed again. The squad leader moved his hand over to the bandage and pressed firm on the loose tape. The strong hand sent a sting of pain down Paxton’s neck.
“Don’t you worry about that neck, now, okay? We’ve fixed you up real good. You owe us your life, you know?”
“Forgive me if I’m not grateful.” Paxton replied.
The door opened from behind them. The old veteran kept his head down as the Agent saluted the man who entered. Finally, after all this time, Paxton would get to give the vile man who lied to the innocents every day a piece of his mind. He moved his head up to the right, once again ignoring the pain. His heart sank as a familiar figure walked past him. Paxton laughed to himself in between coughs. Of course…it all made too much sense.
“I’m glad you can still find humor given your current predicament.” the Consul said.