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A.R.Yngve
PARRY'S PROTOCOL
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Chapter 18
WESTMOREHAM INSTITUTE
SEPTEMBER 14
After once more having passed the gates, opened the entrance door with his personal passcard, been let inside the main building by Mark Fosse, walked up the stairs to the second floor and knocked on Joyce Oregon's door, been scrutinized through a peephole and waited for the three locks to be opened, Abram could enter Joyce's office and say hello to her.
It was pitch-dark outside, and squalls were tearing at the tall windowpanes. He politely tilted his hat upward.
"Good evening, Joyce," he said with a sniffle; his his nose and cheeks were red with cold. "Do you always work this late?" He smiled at her as she indifferently locked the door.
"Only when my hands are full," she replied. "Parry's been pulling through some of his bizarre demands while you've been away, and I need you to look'em over before you see him."
Without looking him in the eye, she walked to her desk and handed over a bundle of clipped papers, holding them somewhat like a bag of garbage.
Abram skimmed the list, mumbling to himself: "Better temperature control for the special room, check; a kitten for sampling the food, check; a canary for air control, check... a lie detector?"
He glanced up at Joyce, who stood folding her arms, waiting for his next question.
"Could you arrange a lie detector for him?" he said.
"You take full responsibility, remember? We wanted your explicit approval before buying one," she said dryly.
Abram rubbed his red nose, looking doubtful: "We'll wait with the detector for a while, I think." He continued on down the list: "Kevlar vest -- too expensive. Gas mask, first aid -- okay, maybe later. Gun and rubber bullets -- impossible. He must've understood that."
Joyce sniffed at him, and said: "Parry always tests exactly how far he can go. If you want my opinion, he's going to try another escape."
Abram gave her a shrewd look: "Don't be too sure about that. Is he ready for the special room now?"