[ WP ] During the first day of grade school , a sleeper agent 's activation code is spoken 20 years too early .

`` Brianna, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. All teachers are a little nervous on their first day and kindergarteners are a tad rambunctious. You'll be fine.'' 
 
 `` But Mr Morton, you do n't understand. It's...'' 
 
 `` It's perfectly normal. Now I have a meeting with the superintendent and you have a class to run.'' 
 
 And with that, Mr Morton left her standing alone in his office. Brianna heaved a deep sigh and trudged out past the secretaries' desk. Her eyes fell upon a bowl of Hershey's Kisses and, with a mixture of defiance and self loathing, she took three more than her diet afforded her. 
 
 Maybe it really was nerves. 
 
 The hallway back to the classroom -- her classroom -- her first classroom -- felt longer than it had on the way here when she'd handed the class over to the teacher's aid and gone for help. Matrice seemed a capable woman -- a no nonsense type in her mid-fifties, matronly and stern -- maybe she'd managed to get the class back into order. 
 
 Was that.... singing? The tune was unfamiliar but the shrill voices of five year olds cut through those temporary classroom partitions like a hot buzz saw through a gallon of ice cream. 
 
 She caught the phrase `` prisoners of starvation'' and was trying to recall what childrens tune that could possibly belong to when she rounded the corner and caught sight of a few wispy tendrils of smoke curling out from under her door. 
 
 SMOKE! FIRE! 
 
 There are a lot of things they do n't teach you in Ed School but the one thing that is drummed in from day one is a teacher's duty to protect her students. Brianna broke into a run, heart hammering as she sprinted the final 50 feet to her door. Her fingers closed around the handle as her analytical mind, buried under endorphins and adrenaline, raised a finger as if to object with `` why are they still singing?'' 
 
 She flung the door open, smoke stinging her eyes and had just long enough to wonder where little Tommy had gotten five yard long bolt of red cloth and how he'd managed to make a flag out of it before the bat collided with the bridge of her nose and everything went black.
