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It was pretty good, for someone that docent like peppermint. I have a question that randomly popped into my mind. Who after reading Hunting in the Highlands went back to the Hunting in the Highlands is on live on kindle post. And decoded the codes that were there? I had another idea for twelve lemons. All my different ideas. Certainly not as deep as my scene, I just did that for fun, but it had to be something that Mortimer knew could only be related to Jigson. Remember he said, there is absolutely nothing you could say that would convince me.

So it had to be something important because Mortimer never considered it.

If it was something just light and funny, it would be one of the first things to come to mind, not something that would prove someones identity. I holehartedly agreee Leah. I agree. I was just thinking of different stuff. Maybe my tea scene is more what really would have happened. You must escape a locked room using codes, riddles, and anything else that might become handy. Jigson smiled. Escape rooms were his favorite part of Agency training. He loved the challenge of using random objects to solve problems in creative ways.

And besides, it gave him an outlet for his natural energy. Jigson shuffled his feet as he waited for his name to be called. He had red hair, a mustache, and seemed to be observing every detail of the room from head to foot. Now enough chatter, let begin. Mortimer lead Jigson down a hall to room number twelve. Both stepped inside and the door slammed shut tight behind them, plunging the room into darkness. He could hear his companion shuffling around in the dark.

There was a desk in the right hand corner with a lamp, a pad of paper, and a pencil.

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Next to it sat a small waste bin. On the wall there where two picture frames, one of a majestic horse, and the other a lemon tree. Mortimer stood near the door, his fingers resting in the light switch. Jigson nodded and began rummaging through the basket. Pretty soon he came across a crumbled piece of paper with a crude sketch of a horse drawn on it. Of course, like any good agent, Jigson new the numeric alphabet like the back of his hand. What did you find? Mortimer motioned to the wall with the pictures.

Both had been removed.

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Behind the horse portrait was a secret panel with an eleven number digital lock, and behind the tree portrait was a disconnected circuit board. So maybe the code is actually 12 5 13 15 14 Out fell a dozen small lemons. There were six sets of matching negative and positive contact rods. Jigson took one of the lemons and stuck the disconnected contact rods using it. Then he did the same for the other five.

Jigson turned to look where his companion was pointing. The desk lamp was on. Black light. Now we have someone who knows what their doing! Three cheers for Jubilee! Love the lemons on the circuit board! I highly doubt I could do one better than you. Have you ever done an escape room?

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Jigson slipped behind a wooden crate filled with lemons about to be shipped to other countries and sank down to his knees slowly to prevent noisy movement. He covered his mouth with his t-shirt to keep the puffing of his heavy breathing from sounding out loud. His heart was beating rapidly and adrenaline rushed through him, making him ready for almost anything. It was dark inside the wooden barn he was in and each miniature sound echoed loudly and distinctly across the building. The roof loomed high above the eighteen-year-old teen and the door was barred by another crate.

He nervously ran a hand through his dark hair. If only he could get out of the trap he was in. He peered around the crate, scanning the room for the man who had been pursuing him. He drew his head back around. He cupped his thumb and fingers around the back of his ear and leaned forward, listening for any noise or movement. A slight shuffling, as if someone was crawling on the concrete floor, seized his attention.

The man was coming nearer. He looked around the crate again. He could see the man slithering slowly on his hands and knees making his way towards him. Jigson had to move or the man would get him. He started slipping towards the end of the crate on the opposite side the man was coming. He stood up behind a stack of crates and took a deep breath.

After counting mentally to three, he strode quietly stopping at each crate to listen and watch the man. The man attacked the floor with force where Jigson had been behind the crate. He let out a painful cry when he slammed his fists into the concrete. He lifted his fists from the ground and massaged them, his lips moving in silent syllables as he muttered to himself.

He stood up. Jigson advanced as quickly as he could to the door being as silent as a mouse with his footsteps and action. Just a few more paces and he would be at the door. His heart rate moved up as the anticipation built. He made a triumphant step to the door. Now he had to move the crate that blocked it somehow. A cold sweat rushed over his back.

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How would he do it quietly? The man was getting to close for comfort. Jigson would just have to be quick and get out. It moved slowly with the sound of thunder it felt to him.

Jigson opened the door, stepped outside, and banged the door shut behind him. The sunlight hurt his electric-blue eyes because he had been in the dark barn for a while. He heard the man toying with the door handle. He decided to run around the building and hide back there somewhere. He pressed his feet into the ground and began running.

The sun now shown with a horrible glare not letting him see where he was going. Jigson covered his eyes as he raced to get to the back. When he reached the corner he collapsed around it. It was definitely British. Jigson definitely knew that name. If it had been on a better circumstance he would have been quite pleased.