“Well, Mr. McNeil, if you hear anything, please let me know. I’m sure you can figure out how to reach me,” she said before stepping around him and the cameraman and heading into the building.
* * * *
Dr. Hennigan
Dr. Hennigan led the new recruits into a gray locker room. On one wall was a giant monitor, which was currently showing newscasts from around the globe. Wooden benches bolted to the ground were in the center. On the other three walls were a series of lockers.
“Find the locker with your pre-determined access code on it and stand in front of it,” Dr. Hennigan said. She watched as a dozen women looked around the room for their lockers. When they were all facing them, Dr. Hennigan told them to open them, strip themselves and place the new clothes inside. “Don’t worry. Any valuables will be returned at the end of your training.”
Once all the women were dressed in their new Foundation-issued uniforms—a drab olive color that didn’t make anyone look good—Dr. Hennigan instructed them to sit on the benches and stare at the monitor.
“Please keep at least five feet between you and the next person,” Ms. Wilson said as the recruits sat.
As soon as everyone was seated, the screen in the front of the room came to life.
“Welcome to The Foundation. I’m Sara Hennigan, the current chairwoman. I wish I could be there with you in person to greet and welcome you on your journey, but my duties running The Foundation prevent me from that,” the silver-haired woman said. “The Foundation was originally established by Deborah Sampson during the Revolutionary War in the United States. Sampson disguised herself as a man and fought in the war for almost three years before becoming ill in Philadelphia. The doctor who treated her discovered her biological sex and protected her until she was better.”
A statue of a woman in military regalia filled the screen with the words ‘Deborah Sampson’ written under the image.
“Deborah was honorably discharged from the Army in 1783 and sent back to Massachusetts. She received a pension for her military efforts.” There was a close-up of Sara Hennigan’s face. “Deborah realized she could never publicly serve in the military again, so she devised a plan to continue her patriotic duty. Clandestinely, she recruited other like-minded women in Stoughton, Massachusetts, to create a spy ring that helped the thirteen colonies win their freedom from British tyranny. After the war, Deborah expanded her reach to all Massachusetts—then all thirteen colonies.”
A map showed red dots and a timeline, illustrating how quickly The Foundation had spread throughout the colonies.
Sara Hennigan continued, “Although she died at the young age of sixty-six, her two daughters, Mary and Patience, continued her legacy and grew The Foundation into what it is today.”
The Foundation’s logo appeared with the organization’s slogan,Ad pugnam hodie melius cras, “Fighting today for a better tomorrow.” The women in the locker room were focused on the video, so they didn’t notice when Dr. Hennigan and Ms. Wilson slipped out of the room, locking the door behind them. The two slipped into the control room next door while the video still played.
“Each of you was recruited because you contain specific knowledge, skills or connections that help strengthen the influence of The Foundation in American politics and global affairs. Over the years, The Foundation has had many highly visible members.”A series of images of former senators, first ladies, actors and media personalities swam across the screen.“But The Foundation is primarily built on the backs of women from all walks of life. Each of you was selectively recruited to join The Foundation to help us build a better tomorrow and continue the legacy of Deborah Sampson.” The video ended with a shot of an American flag waving across the screen.
On the other side of the screen, Dr. Hennigan and Ms. Wilson watched as the women sat there, unsure of what to do next. Dr. Hennigan didn’t leave them waiting very long. She flipped the switch next to a microphone and prepared to give the speech she’d given too many times to count.
“Welcome. You may have noticed there are currently a dozen of you in the room. We only have ten spots for recruits.” Dr. Hennigan paused for effect and watched the looks of uncertainty cross the women’s faces. “Your first task is to determine which two recruits don’t measure up to the high standards of The Foundation. To help you figure this out, I will unleash a nerve toxin that will kill all of you in two minutes. If your decision hasn’t been made, we deem none worthy of continuing.”
The screen in the room started a countdown clock. The women looked at each other anxiously for the first few seconds, unsure if Dr. Hennigan was serious.
“My money is on the actor. You would think she’d be the first to go, but she’s scrappy, which is why we recruited her,” Ms. Wilson said.
“I think one of the marines will draw first blood,” Dr. Hennigan responded.
Both of them were surprised when suddenly a homemaker leapt at the state senator from Nevada and started clawing at the woman’s eyes. Then all hell broke loose.
Dr. Hennigan smiled.
Two of the former marines engaged each other in hand-to-hand combat. The ex-CIA operative went after the actor, who lived up to Ms. Wilson’s expectations. Within forty-five seconds, the state senator and a homemaker lay motionless on the floor. As the monitor showed the second woman die, the door to the room flung open and a contingency of armed guards swarmed into the room, breaking up the other attacks and restoring order.
“Well done, ladies,” Dr. Hennigan said, slowly clapping as she entered the room. “I knew you had it in you.”
Behind Ms. Wilson, a blonde woman wearing combat fatigues entered the room and stood slightly with her arms behind her back in military parade rest.
“Recruits,” Ms. Wilson said, “this is Instructor Emerson. She will be your guide through the intake process.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Dr. Hennigan added. “Our average recruit class of twelve is cut down to six by the time the intake process is over. Do what Instructor Emerson tells you to do, and you will be one of the six left standing.”
Dr. Hennigan spun and left the room without waiting to see the recruits’ response.
After walking a few paces away from the open door, Dr. Hennigan asked, “Where are we with the other situation?” She didn’t need to look. She knew Ms. Wilson was behind her.
“After you liquidated the primary target, we believe two secondary targets received the parcel.”
