29. the 'Desmond Bagley Effect' !

 He was standing the dark corridor. He had ensured there was no one else in that part of the house. Still, he held his beretta ready very firmly and crossed the corridor. He could see that the room was unlocked. Very cautiously he moved forward, peered inside and examined the room. It was dimly lit due the chandelier in the middle of the room. That decorative chandelier was the proof of excellent artistic taste of the owner. There was one painting on the opposite wall. He had no time to examine the paintings. He had more important things to do, such as finding out what was hidden in that chest kept on the table in the corner and why was it so important that two spies of another nation were after that chest. 

For last two days, Mr. Smith was constantly on move with that chest and there were two armed security guards with him. Of course they were always being tailed by those two spies too, who he thought were as clueless as him. Finally he had been able to outmaneuver and then immobilize those two and he had entered the house alone. It was a very big house, a mansion, located near foothill. It was locked before Smith had arrived with his security guards. Smith himself had opened the door and they had entered the house. After examining it cautiously, he had entered the house from backside. All three of them were in kitchen - busy in lunch. He had started searching other parts on the house and had come to this room. 

Now he came to think of all this and he felt that there was something amiss, but his brain could not point it out. Presently he decided to go to the table and check that chest. He took couple of steps forward, and then suddenly he realized: it was a trap! How will Mr. Smith keep the chest unattended after taking so many efforts to transport it through half the Europe! But this realization came too late. Smith was already behind him, and he felt the cold touch of revolver directly on the back of his head.  

“Drop your gun. Hands in the air and no sudden movement, otherwise you know the result.” He did as he was told; one of the guards came and collected beretta and then he felt a prick on his neck. 

“Now move forward and turn.” He obeyed.  

“We have used a powerful sedative on you. I can kill you immediately, but I want some answers from you. Who are those other two agents? Your partners? Who ordered you to follow me? You will answer me, but before that I have some more important business to take care of.” 

He felt dizzy. ‘Smith doesn’t know who I am and also he has no clue who those two are. Good. I still have chance to repair the damage.’ Drowsiness started overpowering, and these were his last conscious thoughts.       

        

Finally he woke up. He was feeling dizzy.  Mouse moved due to his movement and suddenly the monitor in front of him came to life. Console window showed the progress of simulation. Suddenly the reality hit him hard. He was in his lab, sitting in the chair, sleeping on his desk! Four empty packets of hot chocolate were lying next to his mug, two packets of biscuits, last of box of sweets from his latest trip back home, three finished and one unfinished Desmond Bagley novel. He chuckled, now he knew the reason for this dream. ‘I need to stop reading these’, he thought.

It was 3am in the morning. He had a submission deadline for 6am and he was still doing the simulations. The draft for the paper was ready. If the simulations gave good results, he would be able to submit the paper. He got up and made one more hot chocolate drink. He glanced at the monitor. It will take one ore hour, he estimated. He sat on his swiveling chair, and picked up the unfinished novel. Where had he left it? Oh yes, the spy was standing in that dark corridor and was about to enter that room.