Silent Mobius: Red Destiny
Book 1:
Chapter 1: Under Scrutiny
Authors: OSTOCOM
Email and Website: See our profile
Rating: PG for sci-fi violence
Disclaimer: We do not own Silent Mobius or its characters, but we do own
our own characters. See Book 0 for complete disclaimer.
-----------------------------------
"Behind you!"
Miakoda quickly raised her arms, and a golden-brown energy shield shimmered around her. The Category Two growled in frustration as its claws bounced off the shield. "Thanks!" Miakoda called.
"No problem," Calixta replied. She pushed some strands of tangled, sweaty hair off her forehead. This Category Two was a feisty one, all right. It had been running them ragged for nearly half an hour. She looked to the field commander for guidance. "Adara?"
"We're not giving up," Adara said, her gray eyes blazing.
"Of course not," Calixta said, although she had been secretly hoping they might. It wasn't as though the Hawk was threatening anyone besides them back here in this alley….
"Watch it!" Miakoda shouted. Calixta ducked as the Category 2 swung its arm at her head. She somersaulted out of the way and drew her gun from its holster. It needed to be recharged. Well, she would just have to make her last few shots count.
"Calixta, let's make sure we keep him in his place." Adara lowered her voice. "Whatever you do, don't let him out of this alley. He's getting away again over my dead body."
(Or mine,) Calixta thought a little resentfully, but she nodded. She knew what had to be done.
"Miakoda, we could use a little spiritual guidance right about now," Adara said.
Miakoda nodded. She cupped her hands and raised her arms. White light radiated from her hands as she began chanting quietly in Navajo.
Adara swung around behind the Category 2 and spread a thin line of fire on the ground behind it. There was only one way for it to go now—out.
(If only I had enough strength left to teleport,) it thought wearily. (Perhaps if I eat one of them, I will be strong enough again. Who knew these puny humans could be so tenacious?)
It swung its head around, scanning for the best exit. There was a taller human, very powerful, across from it. Though the Lucifer Hawk had no eyes, its demon senses recognized the magical aura surrounding her. She was growing stronger, and the Hawk knew from experience that she was getting ready to attack. It had to run, now.
There. There was its exit. The only thing blocking its way was a pathetically short human with no magical aura at all. She was barely even armed—the Hawk sensed that the gun was toward the end of its power reserves.
The Category Two charged recklessly toward her, ignoring the pain as three bullets penetrated its shoulders and neck. "You," it said. "Food."
"I don't think so," Calixta said. She pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened.
"Food," the Category 2 insisted, lunging toward her. Calixta swung her leg around in a crescent kick, knocking its arms out of the way. The Hawk angled its body slightly so that Calixta had to turn her back to the wall to defend herself. She turned and kicked off against the wall, executing a back flip and flying over its arm to the other side.
(I should have run away,) the Hawk thought. (I can still run.) It tried to hurry out the alleyway opening before the human could scramble back into a defensive position. But the fire-human had made the flames circle around him. It thought desperately, (But if I eat something, then I can teleport. I'm so hungry…)
The Hawk scooped Calixta up in its clawed hand. She reached out to punch the Hawk, but with a fluid movement it broke her elbow and dislocated her shoulder. "Food!" it screamed, opening its mouth over Calixta.
Before the Category Two could bite down, it was distracted by the screech of an eagle spirit. The spirit circled the Hawk two times and plunged its beak into the Hawk's chest. At the point of contact, the Hawk felt its body rip open. The pain and mortal fear of the hunted spread through every sinew of its body, poisoning its blood, freezing it in terror. The Hawk stood, helpless, as flames engulfed it. (So this is death,) it thought, dropping its prey in resignation.
As Calixta
fell, she managed to twist her body so that she didn't hit her head.
Unfortunately, she still landed hard on her injured shoulder. She blinked back
tears of pain. (Well,) she thought as she watched the Hawk burn, (at least I
didn't let him get out of the alley.) Then she fainted.
------
Mackenzie Jameson frowned as she looked over the latest
reports from her officers. The three women had been dealing with more and more
Lucifer Hawk cases lately, and they had let themselves become sloppy the last
two times. The first time a Category Two had escaped, and the second battle had
caused Calixta to have a brief stint in the hospital.
She thought about a few things she and Rally Cheyenne had
discussed while the group from
Meanwhile, in the common room that served as part office
and part break room for the ECC the phone was ringing. Miakoda picked up and
said, "ECC headquarters." She paused as she listened to several clicks
and a short beep. (What's going on?) she thought to herself. (Who could be
calling us on a secure line?)
"Hello?" The voice on the other end replied, and
a smile spread across Miakoda's face. "Everyone, it's AMP!" she cried
excitedly. Adara and Calixta each looked up with identical smiles and grabbed
their own phones off of their desks.
"Hello, Calixta!" Katsumi's voice
came over the other end. "How are you guys doing?"
"Well, I can't speak for everyone
else," Calixta replied, "but I was doing fine until some Category Two
decided *I* was the menu du jour. I had to spend a day and a half in the
hospital trying to recover from him attempting to turn me into some fine
Lucifer Hawk cuisine."
"And you guys thought *I* couldn't
cook!" Kiddy's voice came, indicating that Katsumi wasn't the only one on
the phone. "Hopefully you guys kicked that Hawk's ass."
"We taught it a lesson," Adara added
in quickly, and changed the subject. "How is
Katsumi answered, "He's doing fine. He
really likes being in the office with everyone here, and with
Grosspoliner."
Adara sensed that Katsumi wasn't exactly
thrilled with situation concerning her son, but she decided not to press the
matter further. "Well, I'm glad to hear he's not gotten himself into too
much trouble."
<Hey, who're you talking to?> a voice
the ECC didn't recognize came on the line. With not one of them speaking
anything that could be called passable Japanese, all of them looked confused.
<We're talking to the people from
"I'm sorry, that was Lum Cheng,"
Katsumi added. "Lebia, Nami and Yuki also say hello."
"No hello from your commander to
ours?" Miakoda joked.
"In spirit, of course…I'm not sure how
happy she'd be that we're making this very-long-distance call without
permission," Katsumi sighed.
"Well, we're certainly glad that you
did," Adara said. "It's nice to be reminded we're not alone in this
fight."
"Same here. The more people we have, the
more those Hawks have—"
"That's all very interesting, Katsumi,
but are we ever actually going to get to the point of this call?" Kiddy
interrupted.
Calixta blinked. "Which is…?"
"I left my leather riding jacket in your
guest house, Adara," Kiddy said sheepishly. "I need you to send it
back."
Adara laughed. "Sure thing, Kiddy."
<Hey, Rally's coming,> Lum Cheng piped
up again. <If she asks about the phone bill, I blame you guys entirely.>
"All right, I guess that's our cue to
go…" Katsumi sighed. "We'll find an excuse to call you guys again
soon."
"Same here," Miakoda said, figuring
that Lum Cheng had warned them approaching superiors. "Tell
"Will do. He's already practicing his
English for when we can meet again."
"You guys hang in there," Adara
said.
"You too," Kiddy added. "And no
more trips to the hospital, okay?"
"Hopefully not," Calixta said.
As they were saying their goodbyes, Mackenzie entered the
room. Miakoda's eyes widened and she hurriedly ended the phone conversation for
all three ECC members. Adara and Calixta peered out of their offices to see
what had caused Miakoda's reaction, and promptly straightened themselves up and
joined their teammate in the common room.
"I've been looking over the latest reports,"
Jameson said sternly as she eyed the three women. "And I've decided to
implement a few new policies in order to shore up the holes I've
discovered."
"Sir, I take full responsibility for the last two
engagements," Adara said quickly. "I think I speak for all of us when
I say we won't let those kinds of mistakes happen again."
"Good," Mackenzie smiled. "But that doesn't
change the fact that you're three women trying to deal with a threat that can
be overwhelming at times. Rally
Calixta nodded absentmindedly, already trying to work out
the details in her head.
"Number two: we will now send and receive bi-weekly
reports to and from AMP. This will be in order to gauge the overall level of
Lucifer Hawk activity as well as to share information about strategies and
tactics that do and do not work against the enemy."
Once again everyone nodded, indicating that they had
understood the order.
"And finally: Adara, you will report to the naval
base at
Adara's eyes lit up and she had to fight to keep the smile
off of her face. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"
Mackenzie's expression softened as she looked her
subordinates over one more time. "You all have been doing a good job.
Sometimes the Hawks can get to be too much even for a trained group such as
yourselves. Just remember to be careful, and that it is okay if they get away
once in a while. Even the AMP isn't one hundred percent effective, and they
have six members to our three." She made sure to look each woman in the
eye as she said this, and she could see most of the tension leave their bodies.
"That's all for today, ladies. Dismissed."
Adara, Miakoda and Calixta saluted as one, and then each
retired back to her own office to mull over the new policies.
------
The newsroom of the New York Sentinel hummed like a
slightly angry hive of bees. Everywhere, a mixture of ringing phones, clicking
keyboards, and urgent voices hung in the air. At a station precisely in the
middle of the room, a young woman sat, oblivious to the noise around her. She
was dressed professionally in a beige suit that contrasted nicely with her light
brown skin, and her mass of curly black hair was held in place by a clip. She
stared single-mindedly at her computer screen, typing with lightning speed.
Every once in a while, she opened the notebook that sat at her right hand,
pulled the pencil from behind her ear, and made a note in the margin. She
didn't notice the well-dressed man come up to her desk. He watched her
approvingly for a second before dropping a folder on her desk. She looked up,
saw her editor watching her work, and turned hastily in her chair to face him.
The pink crystal that hung from a silver chain around her neck swung a little
with her sudden movement.
"Sir! Mr. Mortensen! I'm sorry, I didn't see you
there. I'm almost done with the
"You're doing good work, Ramirez. I just came to drop
off your next assignment," her editor said. He held out the folder.
"How much do you know about mem-sweep technology?"
"Well, let's see," she said, and tried to call
up everything she'd seen in the news on the subject in recent months.
"It's been used overseas as a rehabilitation aid for people who have had
traumatic experiences. The
"Impressive, Amber," Mr. Mortensen said. Her
brown eyes sparkled at the praise. "The debate's really been heating up
over the past few weeks. Some people are scared of the possibilities that mem-sweeps
present…"
"Like their being used against a subject's will,
false memory implantation, stuff like that," Amber suggested. She had
taken her pencil out from behind her ear and was tapping it on her desk as if it
would help her come up with more ideas.
"And those are the more tame conspiracy
theories," her editor reminded her, sitting on a corner of her desk. She
was suddenly very thankful that she'd cleaned her desk off just the day before.
"Anyway, this folder has some preliminary reports that we were able to get
a hold of, and a couple of phone numbers. This guy, Damien Marshall, was the
military's top man on the mem-sweep project. Try and get a hold of him. I'd
like to have this story out as a preliminary piece before the Technology and
Enhancement Admin hearing two weeks from Tuesday. You know, give people some
information on the issue."
"This is a big story, sir," Amber said. Her
expression was somewhere between cautious happiness and nervousness.
"I'm sure you can do it, Amber. You seem to have a
way of getting to the bottom of things, and I'm pretty sure that on this piece
we aren't going to exactly have people jumping to give us information.
So," he rose from her desk to leave, "how about a draft by next
Friday?"
"Yes, sir!" Amber said. As soon as Mr. Mortensen
was far enough away, she grinned to herself and spun around in her chair,
laughing quietly. Then, she put her serious face back on and returned to the
article she was writing. She didn't get to work on it long. A man with sandy
blond hair who had just recently entered the newsroom made a beeline for her
desk. She smiled more. Tad Daniels was just an all around nice guy, and one of
her best friends she'd made since coming to work at the paper.
"Did I just see you talking to Mortensen?" he
asked, situating himself in the exact same place the editor had been a few
moments ago. Amber wondered what if the spot had a mystical 'sit here' sign
that she was unaware of.
"Oh, hey Daniels," she said. "Yeah,
Mortensen was here."
"And? Did you get a story?"
"Did I ever! I got the *mem-sweep* story,
Daniels!" she told him. He stuck out his hand for her to shake.
"Congratulations, Amber Ramirez," he said with
mock formality. "You have officially arrived. Seriously, Amber. That's
great! I'm really happy for you."
"Liar," Amber said mischievously as he shook her
hand. "You just wish *you'd* gotten the story."
"Ok, so I am a little jealous. It's a juicy
assignment. But if I couldn't get it, I'm glad you did."
"That I believe," she said, and went back to
making corrections on her computer screen.
"And if you ever need another pair of eyes and ears,
I'd love to tag along," Daniels said hopefully. However, Amber wasn't
listening. She didn't see the disappointed puppy dog look on his face when she
didn't take him up on his offer, or the wistful glance he cast in her direction
as he sat down to work on his own deadlines.
------
Amber looked around at her surroundings with a touch of nervousness.
The polished marble floors lent the building an air of sophistication, and she
felt slightly out of place. She fidgeted with the nametag she had been provided
as she followed the young ensign towards Damien Marshall's office. She had been doing research for a week in
preparation for the interview, but she still felt unsettled for some
reason. (Come on, Ramirez. You've pulled
through tougher assignments. Keep it together.)
Once inside, Marshall, who was currently on the phone,
motioned for her to sit. She did, and waited politely for him to finish his
conversation. As she waited, she studied him. He was fairly good looking, with
tanned skin and jet black hair that was slick and styled. His eyes were brown
and his teeth flashed when he opened his mouth. His entire look screamed 'too
polished for his own good' to her.
"I want to see those req-forms on my desk by tomorrow
morning, Kensworth." Pause. "Yes. And go ahead with the practice
mobilization. You'll have those supplies by the end of next week. That is all.
Good day, Commander." With that he hung up the phone and turned his full
attention to her. "Good day, Ms. Ramirez," he said, flashing what was
probably supposed to be a charming smile, but which seemed full of insincerity
to Amber. It immediately set her on edge.
"Good afternoon, Captain Marshall. Thank you for
seeing me on such short notice."
"It's no trouble at all," he insisted. "Now
then, my aide tells me you're here about...mem-sweep technology, was it?"
Amber decided that she did *not* like this man. She
plastered the sweetest smile she could muster on her face. "Yes. I
understand that you were the top man on the military experiments."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," he dissembled.
"I did supervise some of our earliest testing of the technology, but
really the entire matter was out of my control."
"Of course," Amber said, although she didn't
believe a word of it. "And what were the results of the testing?"
"I'm sure you have all of the published technical
data,"
"Yes, what little there is of it."
"I'm sure you understand that most of the data had to
be classified for security reasons."
"Actually, I'm sure people would feel more *secure*
if they understood what this technology did and what it would be used
for," Amber said pointedly. "We're talking about something that can
erase entire sets of memories. That's very powerful, and potentially very
dangerous."
"If it gets into the wrong hands, yes,"
Amber raised a quizzical eyebrow. "And you don't
think it would?"
"No, because I don't think it will ever be
legalized," he said. "The mem-sweep technology was found to be
non-viable mainly because we never found a way to control exactly which memories
we could erase. People lost either more or fewer memories than the targeted
amount."
Amber made notes in shorthand on her pad of paper. "I
see. And if the military could find a way past this difficulty, would it
continue developing and using mem-sweep technology?"
"Actually," Amber said, "I was wondering if
you could corroborate some evidence I've been given from other sources I spoke
to." He nodded politely. "One of my associates came up with the name
Mackenzie Jameson. Do you know anything about her?"
Amber's eyes narrowed briefly. "I always do,
Captain."
Suddenly a phone behind
"Thank you for your time, Captain Marshall," she
said. "What you've told me has been very helpful."
She stood and was quickly shown out as he answered the
phone. (And what you *didn't* tell me is even more helpful,) she thought to
herself as the door shut. A young officer appeared before her and they
scheduled her next appointment with Captain Marshall. She thanked him once they
had finished and then headed outside. As soon as she reached her car, she
pulled off the nametag and decided to head home for a quick shower. Somehow,
just being in that man's presence had made her feel dirty.
------
Amber's bag full of books, files,
and snacks hit the table in the Sentinel's archive and research room with a
satisfying thud. Pulling up a chair to the nearest computer terminal, she
opened the newspaper's network search engine and typed the name "Damien
Marshall" into the proper field. The computer hummed for a moment, and
Amber tapped her pencil on the table while she waited.
Though the Sentinel's database was
one of the newest in the city, Amber sometimes wished she could have been
around for the days the older staffers were always talking about, when you had
to go use an ancient microfilm machine, or, better yet, actually go find hard
copies of the articles you needed. The computer, while admittedly much faster,
was also much less mysterious and exciting.
She tapped her pencil harder, trying to come up with a
reason for the unease she'd been feeling since speaking with
The terminal beeped, and Amber stopped tapping her pencil
and held it poised for action against her notebook as she scanned the list of
references.
"Right... joined the Navy in 2008, promoted to
captain in 2026 and took over the mem-sweep project the same year," Amber
muttered to herself, scribbling in her notebook as she went. "All very
nice, but not very useful." She scanned the list of articles looking for
something that more closely pertained to her mem-sweep story. "Ah, here we
go.'Mem-Sweep Research Called Off...For Now.'" A quick scan of the article
confirmed
The next reference on the list caught her eye. It was a
quote
"Navy Investigates Horrible Accident at Sea,"
the headline read. Amber continued to scan the article. "Decorated
Lieutenant Commander Mackenzie Jameson was involved in a serious accident last
Thursday afternoon aboard the _USS Victorious_, according to Navy sources. While the commander's condition remains
serious but stable, doctors are hopeful that she will make a full recovery.
Meanwhile, the Judge Advocate General's office has issued a statement that it
will be conducting a full investigation.
"'According to our sources,' Admiral Geraldine Hanson
told reporters, 'this accident may have been the result of negligence by
certain crewmen. If Commander Jameson had not been present and recognized the
problem at the last critical instant, lives may have been lost.'
"Descriptions of the accident itself are confused.
Witnesses reported hearing a small explosion in the boiler room, before a fire
broke out that was quickly contained. So far, however, we have been unable to
find anyone who witnessed the accident directly. There were initial rumors of
sabotage, but the Navy has already issued a statement denying that any foul
play was involved.
"The _Victorious_ was at sea testing the new mem-sweep
devices that have been developed over the past several years by defense
specialists in military intelligence. On
board were several passengers who had volunteered for the procedure, most of
them civilians. However, the project was recently discontinued, and the
_Victorious_ was heading back into port when the accident occurred."
When Amber got to the last line of the story, she smiled
and read aloud to herself. "When asked if the recent decision to
discontinue mem-sweep testing had any bearing on this event, Captain Damien
Marshall—who is both the commanding officer on record of the _Victorious_ and
the Navy's head on the mem-sweep project—responded, 'These two events are
totally unrelated.'" That, Amber knew, had to be a lie. The dates of the
two occurrences were too close, and her finely honed innate lie detector was
going off like a four-alarm fire bell.
"He's lying. I *know* it. That's the easy part, even
though I can't prove it. Finding the truth...that's not going to be such a walk
in the park." Amber stroked the pink crystal that hung at her neck as she
spoke, and if she thought there was anything slightly strange about talking to
an empty room full of computers, she didn't show it. Instead, she went back to
her research and hoped that some kernel of truth would show itself amid all the
lies and deception.
------
As Adara stepped off the plane that had taken her to
"You must be Adara Davis," a voice from her
right said. She looked over and saw a man in his mid-forties with slick black
hair and brown eyes. He offered her a charming smile.
She smiled back. "I am.
Captain Marshall?"
"That's me. Your commanding officer told me to expect
a beautiful woman, but I wasn't expecting one as gorgeous as you," he told
her as he led her towards baggage claim.
(You have *got* to be kidding me,) Adara thought to
herself. However, she flashed a charming smile at him and replied, "You
flatter me, Captain."
As they gathered her baggage and left the airport he kept
up a steady stream of inconsequential banter. Adara, used to such treatment
from the socialites her stepmother insisted she mix with, simply smiled and
nodded at the appropriate times. They arrived at the base within ten minutes
and he led her to the quarters she would be using for her stay, allowing her to
drop off her bags before taking her to an empty office in another building.
"We'll be spending most of our time here," he
told her as he opened a folder he had brought with him, and settled himself
behind the desk. Adara took the seat across from him and opened up her own
folder.
"Commander Jameson told me you have a problem with
analyzing tactical situations and deciding when retreat is a better option than
staying and fighting. So we'll do a standard survey of military history for the
past 400 years, followed by some training exercises with the cadets in
residence. After that you will be given the opportunity to take the promotions
test for the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, momentarily taken
aback. He seemed like an entirely different man than he had been a few minutes
ago as they were walking towards the office. She frowned slightly. Anyone who
could make such a radical change in personality always set her nerves on edge.
It reminded her too much of another person she had known...
She shook herself of such thoughts as she noticed Captain
Marshall studying her. "I'm ready, sir."
"I have no doubt you are."
------
Adara sighed as she collapsed in the room the Navy had
provided for her. The bed was atrocious—she had no idea how anyone was expected
to get a decent night's sleep on it—but right now she was almost too tired to
care.
But something still seemed off to her. She had watched
The sound of her cellular phone ringing interrupted her
internal monologue. "Hello?" she said as she picked up.
"Adara, darling!" the voice of her stepmother
answered her. "It's been so long! How are you doing?"
Adara stifled the sigh that threatened to escape. The
*last* thing she wanted to deal with now was her stepmother. "Hello,
Judith. I'm doing fine. I'm in
"
"I heard. And I'm sure she's perfectly fine. Hello,
sunshine."
"Hi Dad!" His voice brought a smile to the young
woman's face.
"So, job-training in
"Well if by 'special' you mean 'am I up for
promotion,' then the answer is yes. I have to take a test in a few days, but if
I pass, then I will be promoted to Lieutenant Commander."
"That's wonderful!" "How wonderful."
Both of her parents echoed the same sentiment, although with drastically
different undertones. Her father sounded truly happy for her, while Judith
sounded anything but.
"Yes, I'm very excited. The commander likes my work,
so she suggested I take the extra training and then apply for promotion."
Almost the whole truth.
"I still don't understand what possessed you to leave
your singing career for military work. Weren't you enjoying stardom, Adara
dear?"
"It does get old after a while, Judith."
"Oh Mark, can't you do something? I mean, working a
government job cleaning up after horses! Is that any kind of life for your
girl?"
"We've been over this, Judith," her father
explained patiently. "If this is what Adara wants to do, then I support
her."
"Well, of course I do too! You know that right, Adara
dear? I support you, it's just…"
"I'm fine, Judith." Adara was glad that she
didn't have to conceal the smile she was wearing like she did when they had
these conversations in person. "I like my job and it's doing something
that helps people."
"If you insist…" Her stepmother sounded
defeated. "Anyway, dear, I do hope you'll come visit as soon as you're
back in
The lieutenant highly doubted that Judith's pet poodle
even cared that she was still alive, but promised several times to come and
visit when she returned.
"We all miss you, Sunshine. We'll see you when you
get back," her dad promised.
"Okay. Goodnight dad, goodnight Judith."
"Goodnight," they replied.
She rubbed her forehead as she clicked off the cell phone
and put it back in its charger. Talking to her parents could be an ordeal
sometimes. She frowned. That thought had brought some unwanted memories. She
knew
Adara had too many memories, for her taste, of her real
mother, whom her father had divorced when she was seven. She remembered her
mother being able to wear different personalities depending on who she was
interacting with. It had been almost frightening to Adara's young mind to
watch. And her mother's emotional state could change in the blink of an eye…
(Of course the alcohol probably helped with that,) Adara thought bitterly.
Briefly, she entertained the thought that
"No, he's definitely in control of everything. In
fact, almost too much in control. I wonder if he lets anything slip past
him," she mused aloud.
Exhaustion swept over her again and she sighed. (I'll
figure it out later,) she thought. (For now I could use a good…) She looked at
the bed and winced. (…a decent night's sleep.)
------
Calixta was at the front desk when the door opened and
Adara stepped in. She looked up and smiled when she saw her friend.
"Well?" she demanded as she stood up.
Adara flashed her a grin and pulled up the collar of her
jacket to show Calixta the lieutenant commander's bar that now sat there.
"Congratulations!" Calixta said as she hugged
the taller woman. "We knew you could do it!"
"Do what?" Miakoda asked as she wandered in.
"Oh Adara, you're back! So...did you make it?"
"I made it," the auburn-haired woman replied
with a grin. "Barely. You are now looking at Lieutenant Commander
Davis."
"Congratulations! Or should I say congratulations,
sir! Seeing as how you outrank us now..."
"This doesn't change anything," Adara assured
the willowy Navajo. "Except that now I have to do more paperwork."
"Well, better you than me," Calixta said
somewhat unsympathetically.
Adara just shook her head and gave a mock sigh. "I'd
better go check in with the commander. I'll fill you two in on the details
later!"
She walked down the polished marble hall slowly, in no
real rush to report in. She had actually enjoyed getting out of the city for
the week, and she knew now that she had returned it would be back to fighting
the seemingly endless stream of Lucifer Hawks. As she reached the commander's
office, she straightened her jacket and then knocked once.
"Come in," she heard Mackenzie's voice float
through the door.
"Lieutenant Commander Davis reporting in," she
said as she entered.
"Congratulations," Mackenzie offered with a
smile. "How was your trip?"
"Very...interesting actually," Adara said as she
sat down. "Captain Marshall was most informative. He's a very
knowledgeable man when it comes to military tactics."
"Yes he is," the older woman agreed. "
"So you've known him a while then?" Adara asked,
her interest piqued.
"He was there after my accident," Mackenzie
informed her. "I wouldn't be here today without his help."
"I see," the younger woman replied, her mouth
falling into a small frown.
"Is there something wrong?"
"It's probably nothing..."
"But?"
"But well, I don't know. It's just the impression I
got when I was around him. That there was something...wrong."
Mackenzie waved her protests aside. "He can be a hard
man to get along with on a personal level, I understand. Don't worry Adara,
I've known Damien Marshall for a long time and I know we can trust him."
(Right,) she thought to herself. (If the commander says we
can trust him, who am I to go against it?) She nodded at her commanding officer
and then asked to be excused so she could catch up on paperwork.
"Dismissed, Lieutenant Commander," Jameson
replied as she stressed the last word with a smile.
Adara smiled back. "Thank you, sir. Have a good
afternoon," she added as she headed out.
------
"Hey, Amber, how's it coming?" Tad asked as he
poked his head into the Sentinel research room. It was almost
"It's not," the tired looking lump that was
Amber said, her voice slightly muffled because her head was buried in her arms.
"You mean you haven't found anything?" Tad
asked. "That's odd in itself…"
"Oh, I've found things." Amber stood up and
stretched. "It's just that none of it makes any sense when you put it all
together. I've got this Marshall guy, and this Jameson woman that are connected
somehow, but all of the clippings are so vague, and so much of the information
that I need is classified, and no one who knows anything is about to tell me
about it."
"That's journalism for you," Tad said, pointedly
reminding himself *not* to notice how well Amber's breasts stood out when she
stretched. "We want to know things that certain people don't want us to
know. We look, they hide. That's how it goes."
"Thanks for the pep talk, Daniels," Amber said
sarcastically. "You could do something useful, you know, instead of
standing there telling me about 'how it is.'"
"The great Amber Ramirez? Asking for *my* humble
help? I'm flattered. What do you want me to do first?"
"Well, you could go get me…" Amber started to
say.
Tad set one of the cardboard coffee cups in front of her.
"Already did it. I passed a vending machine in the hall and thought I
should bring you something to drink, too. Thought you might need it."
Amber lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip.
"Extra sweet with just a little bit of cream. Just
the way I like it," she said, nodding in approval. "Thanks, Daniels.
You're a lifesaver."
Tad pulled up a chair next to her and looked over her
shoulder at the notes she'd already written.
"So is this Jameson woman still alive? Still in the
Navy?" Tad asked.
Amber tapped a few buttons on the computer keyboard and
pulled up a screen with a picture of Mackenzie in the right-hand corner.
"This was what I was able to find. She's apparently
been transferred to the ECC…can't remember what that stands for at the moment,
but it looks like she got pushed into a desk job. Anyway, her organization is
under Navy oversight, but it doesn't seem to have any connection to the
mem-sweep business."
"It might be worth it to find out what she had to
say," Tad suggested.
"And she might refuse to talk to me because it would
bring up painful memories of this 'accident,' or whatever it was. She might be
more helpful than
"You talked to him?" Tad asked.
"Earlier this week. The man…gave me the creeps. I
just know that there were things he wasn't telling me. I could feel it."
"You usually have a pretty good sense of these
things," Tad said, and smiled at her. Amber preened at the praise.
"I don't think there's much more I'm going to find
out here," Amber said. "So I guess I'd better get going if I'm going
to look her up tonight." She grabbed her coffee, her notebook, and her
purse off of the back of her chair.
"You're going over there tonight?" Tad asked,
surprised. (There go my dinner plans… And just when I had the perfectly
opportunity to ask her, too.) Tad sighed. As usual, fate was just not smiling
on him.
"Sure!" Amber replied. "The sooner I get to
this Jameson woman, the sooner I get the story done. Thanks for the drink,
Daniels! I'll see you later!" The automatic doors of the research room
barely had time to sense her presence before she was through them.
"That's…a great attitude you've got there,
Ramirez," Tad said to an empty room. "Just great."
------
As she sat in her office, chewing on the end of a pen and
idly tapping a foot, Adara felt herself still troubled by the conversation she
had had earlier that day with Mackenzie.
She wondered what it was about Damien Marshall that had caused the hairs
on the back of her neck to rise. She was so deeply involved in her
introspection that she failed to notice a certain tall, willowy Navajo who had
been trying to get her attention for nearly a minute.
"Earth to Adara," Miakoda said as she waved a
hand in front of Adara's grey eyes.
"Oh, Miakoda!" Adara started. "I'm sorry, I
didn't see you there."
"So I noticed. Is everything okay? You've
seemed...withdrawn lately since you returned from
"Not exactly..." she frowned. She thought back
over the conversation with Mackenzie, trying to decide whether or not she
should worry the others with it. (It was probably nothing,) she reminded
herself firmly. (Nothing to bother Miakoda and Calixta with.)
She looked up and noticed the worried look on the taller
woman's face. "Sorry, Miakoda," she apologized with half a grin.
"It really is nothing you need to worry about. Just a little personality
conflict, I think."
"Well if you ever need to talk, my office is always
open."
"I appreciate it, really. But I'll be all
right."
Miakoda sensed the cue to leave and did just that after
once again offering to listen. Now she was the one frowning as she made her way
back to her office. It wasn't like Adara to get too introspective, at least not
while they were at work. Now for the first time since the lieutenant commander
had returned, she wondered what had happened in
As she walked back to her office, she noticed Calixta
sitting at the front desk, deeply involved in a project of her own. She started
to read over the younger woman's shoulder, wondering what could be so
fascinating. "Building plans?" she asked out loud once she realized
what the other woman was studying.
Calixta started and threw a mock glare at her companion.
"Don't do that," she said sourly. "And yes, they're building
plans. Specifically, plans to redesign some of the storage space we have in the
back so that it can be used as a holomodule."
"Ah." She stood in silence for a moment,
wondering if she should bring up her concerns about Adara. "Calixta, have
you noticed anything odd about Adara these last few days?"
"Adara?" she asked as she looked up from the
plans in surprise. "I don't think so..."
"She just seems a bit more introspective than
normal." Miakoda let out a small sigh as she noticed that Calixta had
already gone back to looking at the plans.
"I'm sure it's nothing," the younger woman said
without looking up. "She's probably just busy with more paperwork or
something. Hmm...looks like we'll have to hire contractors for some of
this." She made a few notes on her laptop.
Suddenly Calixta's concentration was broken as her laptop
and the main computer both started flashing alarms. She immediately swung her
chair around so she was facing the nearest computer.
"Give me a report," Adara shouted as she entered
the main room.
"We've got a 324-LH at East 40th past
Adara looked to Mackenzie, who had entered the room and
then nodded. "Take this one out as soon as you can. We're not holding back
anymore."
All three of her subordinates shared identical grins.
"Let's go," said Adara as she grabbed her gun and led the way to
their STAV, named 'The Aurora'. Calixta and Miakoda followed, each grabbing a
gun and various other armaments before heading to the roof.
They arrived at the scene minutes too late. The only
remnant of the Lucifer Hawk's victim was a bit of blood on bone staining the
dark pavement. "Damn," Adara cursed under her breath. She sighed.
"At least we got here before NYPD showed up."
"It's still here," Miakoda whispered. "I
can still sense its evil."
"Stay on your guard."
"Calixta, behind you!"
The red-head whirled at the Navajo's warning just in time
to avoid being the Hawk's next victim. The three of them turned to face the
Hawk as it materialized out of the wall. It was one of the largest ones the ECC
had seen in a long time. Calixta looked down at her scanner and swallowed hard…all
her readings indicated a Category One. "You guys be careful," she
warned. "This isn't a pushover Hawk."
The Lucifer Hawk looked at them with something resembling
a sneer, as though it knew that it had the advantage over these three women.
"So this is the fabled ECC…three puny humans. It's amazing that you've
survived long enough to face me."
"We're not your average 'three puny humans,'" Adara said as a ball of flame formed in her hand.
------
Amber Ramirez knew that no one appreciated interviews at
this late hour, but she didn't care. She was tired of running into dead ends on
this story, especially when the first draft was only a day from being due. She
had expected to be met with resistance on this story, but nothing this severe.
Amber was not a conspiracy theorist, but she was very uncomfortable with
exactly how many people weren't telling her the truth.
The last option she now had was to interview this supposed
Mackenzie Jameson. And if she was turned down now…she didn't know what she
would do. (There's no way I'm walking away from this empty-handed,) she thought
with determination. (I'm going to get the truth out of these people if I have
to stay there all night.)
Her thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like loud
sounds coming from her left. She couldn't see what it was, but she saw an
alleyway that led off behind the building complex. Other passersby were looking
down the alley warily, but were wise enough to stay away from it. Amber, on the
other hand, knew it was better for a reporter to listen to curiosity than
reason.
------
As Adara readied to throw her fireball at the Hawk, she
expected it to react in some way, but it didn't move. She briefly wondered
exactly what it was waiting for, but she decided to take her chance while she
had it. She threw the fireball at the Hawk – which suddenly disappeared.
"Watch out!!"
Miakoda yelled out a warning and threw up her hands in
front of them. An image of an eagle appeared, just barely shielding them from
the column of flame that was thrown back at them. The shield didn't last long
before it disintegrated, leaving them scrambling for cover. The Hawk reappeared
behind them.
Adara instinctively shot more flames at the enemy, but it
just deflected it back at Adara with nearly twice the force. Miakoda and
Calixta watched in horror as their teammate was engulfed in flames. The fire
elemental emerged…alive, but somewhat scorched.
The Hawk laughed. "Useless tricks…if I had known
fighting you would be this easy, I would have asked Jerel to kill you all long
ago."
The name Jerel jumped out
at Calixta…she remembered Mackenzie saying that was the name of the Lucifer
Hawk that talked with
"Adara, Miakoda, don't attack this one
directly!" she called out to her companions. "It's just reflecting
our attacks back at us!"
"Little good such knowledge will do you," the
Hawk responded. "There is still no way for you to defeat me."
"Apparently there's no way to shut you up,
either," Calixta muttered, although she still didn't know how they were
going to prove him wrong.
------
Amber turned as she saw flashes of light and heard large crashes coming from close by. (What the hell
was that?) she thought, heading toward the commotion. Her heart was pounding
with anxiety…something that didn't happen often.
All of that came to a screeching halt when she finally saw
what it was.
Barely visible in the fading sunlight were three women,
all in uniform, and all armed to the hilt. They were facing down what appeared
to be some enormous monster, complete with claws, scales, fangs, and eyes in
strange places. And upon her arrival, the creature immediately turned and
looked at her.
"There are *four* of you?" The creature bellowed
in a deep, echoing voice. "You think you can trick me?!"
The monster charged in her direction, eyes glaring
straight into her. Amber's instincts told her to run, but she couldn't get her
body to respond. She thought of weapons, distractions, turning invisible,
anything except running away.
Just as the
hideous thing was about to descend upon her, a blast of fire seemingly from out
of nowhere hit it in the side, knocking it off its feet. Amber suddenly came to
her senses and ran…she didn't care where, just as long as it was as far away
from the monster as possible. She tried to go back the way she had come, but
the alleys all blurred into each other, and she didn't stop until she could see
the main street ahead.
Amber stumbled
onto the sidewalk, trying to catch her breath. She looked behind her for the
pursuing monster, but she saw nothing. There were no flashes of light or loud
sounds…just the normal sights and sounds of the city.
(What on earth did I just see?)
Amber mentally kicked herself. (Well, you wouldn't know
because you ran away! What kind of journalist flees the scene of a story? It's
your job to be put in the line of fire.)
She picked herself up and brushed herself off before
heading back into the maze of alleys. Monster or no monster, she would kill
herself before getting chased away from the truth. She knew that this wasn't going
to help with her mem-sweep story, and yet… There was something very wrong about
this, for more reasons than just the monster. She felt as if something even
bigger was being kept from her…and she was determined to find out what.
It took Amber a lot of time to find her way back, because
she wasn't sure what direction she had run. However, after about 20 minutes of
searching, she recognized the spot where she had
first seen the monsters and the women in uniform. (I'm almost certain this is
the same corner.) She stepped around the wall quietly…
…and was met with an empty alleyway.
There was no monster and no women anywhere. There was a
pool of darkish blood staining the ground, and the walls were scorched. She
kicked a piece of trash in frustration. (If only I hadn't run away earlier…)
A fierce gust of wind whipped against her face and caused
her to look up. Skimming just about the rooftops was an unmarked,
expensive-looking surface-to-air vehicle. Amber knew that STAVs were hard to
come by without special government permits and licenses. This one was sleek and
black, just right for getting into and out of places unnoticed. The aircraft
lingered over the alleyway for a minute before disappearing over the horizon as
quickly as it had appeared.
Amber glared at the departing vehicle, feeling as if it
were challenging her. She accepted the challenge. "Just you wait…I'll get
to the bottom of this."
-----------------------------------
Next Episode Preview:
Miakoda: "What is reality? Sometimes it seems like
nothing more than a grand illusion—a magician's trick. What appears most
substantial disappears before our eyes like a flickering candle, or like the
morning mist. As we awaken into the dream of our lives, we begin to wonder
whether we can trust our senses, our knowledge, our friends…or even
ourselves." Episode 2: 'Smoke and Mirrors.'