The entrance to the coffee shop was directly across from the table Carmen Mitchell sat sipping on her capachino. Her eyes study the faces of the people who enter, searching for any hidden recognition as they glance her way. It is midmorning and many of the customers are on a break to deliver large orders of coffee to their coworkers. No one notices the lone woman seated at a table with a pad of paper in front of her.
Carmen drains the last of her drink and licked her lips carefully, savoring the last taste of the capachino. She gripped the paper cup in her right hand, fingers curled around it, and compressed until the cup was cracked and bent. Slipping her pad into a pocket on the inside of her coat, Carmen stood and weaved between the tables to deposit the remains of the paper cup in the trash receptacle. Turning towards the door, she removes a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and places them on her face.
The sun’s glare was unusually bright with no clouds in the blue sky to provide any protection. Carmen joined the crowd of pedestrians on the broad sidewalk, blending in with such grace and expertise that the people were not even aware she was among them. Her eyes were cold hard stones masked by the darkness of the lens as she peered into the faces of everyone around her.
She indulged herself unwisely by visiting the coffee shop and remaining there to finish her drink. She knew the danger of lingering in public places with only one or two escape routes available. She was fortunate she was not caught in the shop; and was not forced to stand or run. To defend herself in a public area would place the lives of the unsuspecting public in jeopardy, a price that she was sworn to avoid at all costs.
But she was human and she had the same needs as everyone else. Despite the risk and possible consequences if she had been discovered, Carmen had enjoyed the coffee shop as much as she dared. However, she could not relax as completely as the other customers; no whispered conversations, no smiles, no laughter came from her table. A hint of a smile formed on Carmen’s face at the memory of laughter, and it vanished quickly, swallowed up by a wrinkling of her brow.
The entrance to the subway was on her right and without slowly her quick and steady pace, Carmen turned. She jogged down the stairs among the other people, eyes darting back and forth, mind calculating all possible escape routes. She hadn’t ridden in the train for months, unsure if it was safe for her to do so. At the sight of the subway entrance, Carmen decided instinctively to go by train. Her instincts were something that she had complete faith in; they had never failed her before.
She was at the ticket booth then and the couple in front of her went through. Carmen stepped forward, eyes hard behind the glasses. The man in the booth looked tired and glanced anxiously at his watch—his shift was nearly its end. He held out his hand for money or a ticket, but Carmen had neither. She reached up and brought her sunglasses down slightly, eyes sharply cut into the man. He yanked his hand back into the booth and turned away from her. Satisfied, Carmen returned her glasses to her face and walked through confidentially.
She slipped into the crowd waiting for the next shuttle, eying everyone carefully. Carmen learned early in her life that each person was unique, the only one in the entire world with their features. It had been hard to accept at first, but over time Carmen had come to reason with herself. She was relieved that she had been chosen to live her life, that her burdens and responsibilities were not placed on another person. Despite her anger, pain, and disgust in the beginning, she accepted who and what she was.
She was a clone.
It was even worse that just the fact that her body was an exact copy of another human being’s DNA with a few enhancements; Carmen was the clone of a woman by the name of Mel Jackson, the most skillfully trained spy the U.S. government had ever had control of—or thought they did. Jackson was secretly involved with international terrorists groups, slipping them vital information on U.S. ambassadors, secret agents, and informants all over the world. Jackson was killed in an ambushed laid by the government, but no one they trained who acquire the same level of skill as Jackson. So they cloned her.
Carmen was the result. Her surrogate mother was chosen randomly out of one thousand possibilities. Sarah Mitchell was an unsuspecting newlywed who came into a clinic to check if she was pregnant. The doctor sedated her and preformed an operation to switch eggs. Sarah’s really child is a mystery; if the government knew what happened to the embryo, they kept it hidden from Carmen. Sarah remembered nothing of the operation and carried Carmen full term. After her birth, Carmen was treated like the Mitchell’s real child—they did not know—and it was David Mitchell who named her Carmen Rosa Mitchell.
Even now when Carmen thought back on her happy childhood as their child, knowing nothing about what she really was. But everything ended quickly when Carmen was thirteen; government agents kidnapped her on her way home from school. She was sedated, transferred to Area 53, and was told what she truly was. It was a hard truth, something that at first Carmen had refused to believe. For seven long years, her captors trained her in all the ways of secret agents: how to disappear, weapons, explosives, technology, hand-to-hand combat, trailing, undercover skills, and more. By the time she reached twenty, Carmen surpassed Jackson in the skills but not the field experience.
When she was released on her first assignment, Carmen still had not accepted what had been done to her. Instead of following orders, she vanished. Two weeks later, she returned to her parents’ home. The Mitchells were shocked and overjoyed to see her alive and well, the years since her kidnapping had left them heartbroken. Carmen had forced herself to tell them what she was—a clone. It had taken a long time for her to convince them that everything she said was the truth. Then she had left them, afraid that she was putting her parents in jeopardy by staying. And she has been on the run every since.
No, she mentally corrected as the shuttle shrieked to a halt. A door hissed open and passengers poured out on to the platform. Carmen slipped on the shuttle, found an empty seat, and sat down quietly.
No, she has not been on the run every since. She stopped running two years ago, when she realized that if she stayed in the United States, it would be only a matter of time before the government found her. The agents came, their assignment at first was to retrieve her, but she outsmarted them and they ended up in the hospital. The next time, and the time after that, the agents were ordered to kill her. Each team has failed; Carmen won’t die without a fight, but with every confrontation, she realized that it was only a matter of time before they killed her.
The agents would have killed her if Kevin hadn’t found her in time. Kevin Roberts was like her, the clone of a super agent. He went renegade the same as she did, but unlike Carmen, he had a plan when he disappeared. He stole information from the mainframe computers about other ‘experimental agents’ and decided he would attempt to gather the clones together. He saved Carmen’s life many times since he found her, and she his once or twice. But she was alone now; Kevin left a week ago with New York City as his destination and another renegade clone his target.
Carmen shook her head slowly, trying to clear her mind of any memories that might distract from her concentration. It was vital to her survival that she kept all of her senses alert; agents came in all shapes and sizes. Carmen glanced casually at the passengers sharing her car, but found nothing suspicious in any of them. However, the tingling sensation was beginning to form at the base of her neck. Her right eye narrowed as she continued to sweep her gaze around the shuttle. Something was wrong; her heightened senses could tell of the change in the air.
She had to get off the shuttle. Carmen stood abruptly, pulling her coat about her like a shroud. She made her way like a black shadow to the back of the car and into the next. Then she froze, her hard eyes staring at the man on the other side of the car. He was dressed in casual attire: worn jeans, tan windbreak over a loose t-shirt; but Carmen was not fooled. The way his shoulders were squared, the look in his cold blue eyes, and the half smile permanently frozen on his lips were all tell-tale signs of government agents. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the agent, her body tensing.
“Carmen Mitchell,” the agent called out aloud.
The passengers became aware for the first time of the hostile atmosphere. A few nervously gripped their baggage, glancing from the agent to Carmen with wide, weary eyes. The agent ignored them, taking a few steps towards Carmen. She made no move, watching him approach until they were only six feet apart.
“Carmen, I am under orders to bring you in,” the agent spoke lower this time.
Carmen had heard this speech before; in fact, she heard it every time the agents had come for her. There was no meaning behind the words; they sooner kill her than take her back to Area 53. She was a threat; she knew their training and their secrets. The government would never learn.
“I am not going with you,” Carmen hissed lowly.
“I am sorry to hear you condemn yourself.” The agent raised an eyebrow and smiled. His hand moved to a hidden sidearm.
“Let the passengers get off,” Carmen warned.
She saw the barrel of the gun and side-stepped swiftly. With her left wrist, she knocked the gun but the agent kept his grip on it. She grabbed his wrist with her right hand and smashed her left fist into his face. The agent went down and Carmen twisted the pistol from his grasp. She turned to the startled passengers and gestured to the door.
“Go to the car ahead of this one,” Carmen order. Her even tone convince the passengers that she was not to be messed with. They immediately began moving through the doors under her hard gaze.
Something slammed into Carmen’s back, sending her flying into a young man and sprawling on to the floor. Carmen gritted her teeth, hearing the agent approach, and kicked out violently. Her foot connected with his knee and she was rewarded by the sound of him falling. She pushed herself up and yanked the man up with her. His expression was one of surprise.
“Are you alright?” She growled at him, and he slowly nodded. Then his eyes widened.
“Look out—”
The agent brought his elbow down on Carmen’s shoulder, sending her to her knees. The pistol slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. Her vision spun as a moan escaped her lips. She felt the press of another pistol against her back and her mind instantly cleared.
“You think you are so good?” The agent demanded sarcastically. “Well, I will enjoy this, you filthy—”
The young man pulled up the gun and pointed it at the agent. “Hey, buddy. Drop the gun.”
“Look, kid. This is a private matter that does not involve you. If you want to live happily, leave now.” The agent said in a tired voice. He pressed the gun sharply into Carmen’s back and she hissed in pain.
“I said drop the gun.” The young man’s face was determined. “Now.”
“Okay.” The agent brought both hands up.
Carmen swung her right elbow behind her, hitting the agent in the groin. He doubled over in pain as Carmen leaped into her feet. A round house to the side of the agent’s head leveled him on the floor, unconscious. Carmen stared for a second at the agent before turning to face her savior. The shuttle was empty of life besides herself and the agent. There was no sign of the man or the gun he had been holding. Carmen narrowed her eyebrows and glanced around. On the floor where the man had been standing was a gold chain and a small metal pendent. She pocketed it, telling herself she would examine it later. First she had to get off the shuttle.
The train was beginning to slow as it approached the next platform. She would have only a few seconds to slip off before the subway security arrived. She moved to the door and steadied herself with the rail as the shuttle slowed to a halt. The door hissed open, Carmen slide through silently, and stepped on to the platform. Passengers were streaming off into the crowd, Carmen among them. She slipped into the midst of the crowd and was instantly invisible.
