by Nick Braker
“So... four college girls attending MIT from different backgrounds and four average guys from the same hick town are part of the solution?” he quipped.
“You and your team killed three aliens from another planet, seized control of their spacecraft, single-handedly destroyed one of their ships that attacked you, and drove the other one off using one of the most ludicrous tricks from a science fiction television show. Anything special about that?” she said, leaning toward him to reinforce her words.
“Luck?” he asked.
“Hardly, but if that weren’t enough, your team took out eight of my highly trained field operatives before they were brought under control. Granted, we could have just opened fire and killed all of you but I wanted you alive,” she said, emphasizing the word as if to remind him of his mistake in killing all of the aliens.
“You have talent but it is raw and untrained. That is where I come in. Come work for me. You get paid, you get trained and you get to try to save this planet from an alien invasion.”
Asher was floored by her offer. It took him several moments to make sense of it and in the end only two words came to mind.
Holy shit...
Alexandria’s offer was enticing. His life’s purpose since Beth, the reason he was here, stood right in front of him. The choice was a simple yes or no. He realized too late his silence told Alexandria everything. She knew his answer and was allowing him the courtesy of affirming it. He had to think about it though. Even though he wanted to say, hell yes, he had to mull it over. The option of saying no was on the table but that came with repercussions. He and his friends would never be allowed back into the general population because of what they knew.
Join or else.
“Give me a day or two to think about it?” he asked.
“More like two hours,” she replied.
She got up and nearly walked out.
“What’s the hurry?” he asked.
At the door, she turned back.
“The fate of humanity.”
Chapter 12
TO JOIN OR NOT TO JOIN
Earth - WSO Training Facility
May 29, 1987 - 7:00pm
It was several minutes later when the guards returned. These two were different than the ones that had interrogated him. A look of disappointment crossed Asher’s face. He had so looked forward to returning the favor when they eventually let him go.
“Hey guys, I got to be good friends with the two previous guards. Do you happen to know where I can look them up later and let them know how thankful I am that they took great care of me?” he said with all the sincerity he could vomit.
Neither of them responded. Asher sighed. These guys were top notch and, with the exception of the one that had mentioned hitting him again while no one was looking, it seemed they were unflappable. The two guards checked his chains at the wrists and ankles before releasing them from the floor attachment. They stood him up and motioned him through the door.
“This way, joker,” the taller one said.
“Sense of humor? I like that. Anything to drink or eat around here? Something stiff would be preferred.” Asher said.
“Well yes. You are--”
“Jake, you know Tom will want to do the talking. Pipe down,” the shorter one ordered.
Both men wore the same black, military style uniforms with a light gray camouflage pattern.
“Tommy boy? The guy in the black suit? That Tom?” he asked, prodding them.
The two guards shuffled him down the corridor without any further comments. He tried numerous times to provoke them but his efforts proved useless and he gave up. They transferred him outside the building and into an awaiting jeep. The driver of the jeep was a smallish man about six inches shorter than Asher. The man seemed to get more nervous the closer the three of them got to the vehicle and, now that he was in the vehicle, it was palpable. The man could only manage to glance at him whenever he seemed to get the courage to do so. He was visibly perspiring while he drove. One of the guards must have noticed because they started talking and the conversation ended up about Asher.
“So, this one here is working for the aliens. They say he’s actually one of them,” the taller guard said.
“I hear they have to eat parts of the human body to survive,” the other said.
“Confirmed.”
“Ya don’t say?” the other guard replied with mock incredulousness.
The driver started to visibly fidget.
“Yep. One of the scientists assigned to the research found traces of human body parts partially digested in an alien stomach.”
“Did we feed this one yet?” a guard said, pointing to Asher.
He joined in.
“Actually, I’m very hungry at the moment. Can one of you two drive if needed?”
Both guards burst out laughing. The guard in the front seat slapped the driver in the back in a friendly, reassuring gesture.
“Trevor, you have got to lighten up. This one here is a human, through and through. He’s an asshole but he’s human.”
Trevor laughed nervously but it seemed he wasn’t entirely convinced.
“You guys are the assholes,” Trevor said and they laughed even harder.
Asher’s stomach growled.
“He is a hungry one. His kind must have to eat often to stay alive. Think we’ll make it to the barracks before we’re all eaten?”
The guard could barely get the words out through his continued laughter.
Trevor pulled up just outside a set of barracks. There were six of them on each side of the roadway and he stopped at the first one on the left. The guards stepped out and one of them pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking the chains holding Asher. At the sound of the chains rattling to the floor of the jeep, Trevor nearly bolted but the other guard motioned him to relax. The second guard, the one with the key, looked up at him.
“Tom is inside. Your friends as well. We’ll escort you in of course but take my advice and drop the attitude with Tom. I know your type and so does he.”
He nodded. He couldn’t help but respect both of these men. They had treated him well, likely out of professionalism but still it went a long way with him.
Tom on the other hand...
The two guards trailed behind Asher as they walked him into the barracks. Inside were metallic walls, bunks, foot lockers, and of course, Weston, Brandon, Greg and Tom. He examined his three friends. They appeared to be completely unharmed and rushed him as he entered.
“Dude, you’re okay,” Weston said, relieved.
“Hey man, good to see you,” Brandon said.
“What happened to you?” Greg asked, surprise on his face.
“Nothing really. Some guards tried to rough me up but it was laughable,” Asher responded as he turned to glare at Tom.
“Asher,” Tom said, stepping up to him. “My apologies for the rough treatment. For what it’s worth, we have nearly 1300 people dead across the planet. Some diplomats, foreign leaders and several wealthy dignitaries to name a few. You were the leader of this group and we were certain the eight of you were involved. When you refused to cooperate, it only convinced me more that you were in on it. I did what I had to do. We needed answers fast. I am sorry but it seems obvious now that I made a mistake.”
Asher studied him for several seconds. He sensed the guards behind him tense up, ready to react.
“Hell, it was great ride. You should probably invest in some interrogators that can actually apply some pain, though,” he quipped.
“Tough words but for the record, they were just for starters. We’re quite capable of extracting information but I’m glad we didn’t get to the experts before...” Tom trailed off, leaving it at that.
“So what is the next step?” Asher asked.
“That depends on the four of you,” Tom replied.
“You’re asking if we’ll join?” Asher asked.
His friends all started talking at the same time. He heard pieces of what the
y were saying but it was obvious they wanted in. Asher knew why he wanted to join – revenge - but why were his friends so eager?
“Sounds like we have an answer already, Asher,” Tom said.
Asher glared at his friends.
“Seems that way,” he said. “What are we in for?”
“Life, if you want it. A career in the most advanced undercover agency in the world. We are more secret than the NSA.”
Tom might have been bragging but Asher had the sense his words were just facts.
“WSO stands for World Security Organization?” Greg asked.
“Yes,” Tom answered. “We were created to protect the planet, not just this country.”
“Wait a minute. Why would an agency like WSO even exist?” Greg asked.
Tom didn’t reply, so Greg continued, “because someone knew we needed one, and they knew it years, perhaps, even decades ago. Right?”
Tom nodded.
Nice leap there, Greg.
“So these aliens have been on the radar for decades?” asked Greg.
Tom shook his head.
“No, this is new, but yes, we found out about extraterrestrials nearly 50 years ago.”
Greg’s brow furrowed. That look meant Greg was preoccupied with something and was working through the process in his head. Asher couldn’t put his finger on it, but Greg had changed, ever since Beth’s death.
“What’s on your mind, Greg?” Asher asked.
They all turned their focus on Greg, although Tom seemed to linger on Asher’s face as if studying him before finally switching his gaze.
“You want us to join, but why? We are untrained and unskilled. We’re young and immature. Hell, I could go on but the point is made. You and that boss woman of yours want us in WSO. So we must mean something to you or have something to offer. Is it simply that we were able to defeat those aliens and take over their ship? If someone could do that… no, it can’t be that. You would see that as blind luck. No, something else is involved--” Greg started to continue.
“I agree, but the boss woman seems to think otherwise,” Tom said. “I respect her more than you can imagine and I trust her judgment. Don’t overthink it. You did the impossible in our estimation and that means you have what it takes. She wants you to join the team. If you can get through training like everyone else, you will be offered a job in the organization. It will be something appropriate to your skill set. Obviously, we’ll assess that during your training.”
“I think they must be desperate,” Weston added.
Greg was still working through something and, whatever it was, it bothered him. Greg appeared to not even hear Weston. Asher respected Greg’s opinion, even if it tended to side with a bit of healthy paranoia. Asher tapped Tom on the shoulder.
“We’re in. We’ll go through the training but on one condition. You train us as fast as we progress. Each of us here, and I speak for all of us, aren’t your normal grunts. We learn fast, both physically and mentally. The lessons--”
Tom interrupted him.
“I’ll go along with that if you indeed progress faster than the others but, first things first, you’ll start out like the rest,” Tom said.
Asher didn’t reply. Tom was not negotiating.
Alexandria entered the barracks. She had waited outside, listening to their discussion and Tom seemed to be wrapping up, which was fortunate, as she had a lot to discuss with these four and not a lot of time.
“Gentleman,” she said, addressing the group.
“Ma’am,” Tom replied with obvious respect.
She noticed Brandon was gawking at her. His mouth was agape but he managed to speak anyway.
“Hello, pretty woman...”
Weston and Greg both just raised their hands in a slight wave, followed by Asher, who smiled and nodded at her. Alexandria gave Tom a quick glance.
“First, let me get the answer to my question I asked Asher earlier. I gather each of you understand I’m asking you to join WSO once you make it through training?”
“Once we make it through training?” Greg asked.
“Yes, I’m confident you will. I know talent when I see it and each of you possess it. The key is... will you develop and then use it?” she asked.
Greg, Weston and Brandon jumped in at the same time with assurances that they would.
“Asher?” she asked.
“If our agreement remains intact, certainly,” he said.
Tom must have made an agreement with them but she needed the details.
“Agreement?”
“Tom has agreed to put us through accelerated training under the condition that we can actually handle it,” Asher said.
Asher was watching her closely, assessing her reaction. He had done the same in the interrogation room earlier, even after taking a beating. He was intelligent and perceptive.
I’ll have to be careful around this one.
She kept her face neutral.
“Fair enough. Fisk Majors will be your instructor. He--”
“Wait,” Brandon cut in. “So is Fisk a Major? That would make him Major Majors.”
He laughed and Weston joined him.
“Cut the shit,” Asher told him.
Alexandria continued.
“He normally heads up the training of our best of the best and I can’t see why each of you shouldn’t be included in that category.”
“Damn, we must have impressed the hell out of you two,” Brandon exclaimed.
Alexandria frowned inwardly.
“Don’t let it go to your head. The training facility will try each of you physically, mentally and emotionally. Odds are you will not live up to those standards and you’ll be placed in the normal recruitment section.”
She paused trying to phrase her next statement delicately.
“Your biggest hurdle will be yourselves,” she said. “You have no focus nor direction. Tom and Fisk will do what they can.”
Greg’s face was easy to read. He seemed to take her comments personally while Weston and Brandon looked like they missed the insinuation entirely. Asher was as poker faced as ever.
“Your instruction will be on many levels - firearms, company policies/protocols, tactics, politics, and geography. The training will be extensive and intense. You will likely have two to three hours a day for yourself. The rest will be on WSO time. Understood?” she asked.
“Holy hell, woman. I never gave school that much effort in an entire week,” Brandon exclaimed.
“Time to grow up,” she said. “We’re under attack and we need you producing ASAP.”
She stared at Brandon. He stared back but looked away.
This one is controllable.
Greg folded his arms, tapping one finger to his nose several times.
“Do you mean field work?” Greg asked.
“That depends on your strengths during and after your training. Tom and Fisk will assess them and report back to me. You may end up with a desk job,” she said flatly.
Brandon was quiet. Finally. She allowed her poker face to drop, giving him a slight smirk.
“Asher?”
“I--” he started to respond but Greg interrupted.
“I’m not interested in a desk job. I’ve always thought I’d end up with a career in computers but now that I’ve had a taste of field work... to hell with that.”
Asher put his hand on Greg’s shoulder.
“When do we start?” Asher asked.
Alexandria nodded.
“These barracks are for show. The real facility is underground. Tom will show you to your compartments below. You start tomorrow. You’ll need to catch up as you are a full week behind the current group. I trust you can do it but, as I said, you’ll be your own worst enemy. Let’s see what you are made of.”
Tom waited.
“Go ahead, Tom,” she said.
“Ma’am, you’ve brought that up twice now. You see something holding them back?”
Tom was trying to reinforce her obser
vations in the new recruits’ minds. He agreed they had potential and his question was really meant for them.
“What you four have done for this world is immeasurable and even our best trained agents would likely have failed. You’ll find the training harder than your recent battle with the extraterrestrials.”
Brandon started to respond but she raised her hand, cutting him off.
“I don’t want to hear it. I want to see it.”
She walked past them, motioning them to follow. She opened the barracks’ rear door and walked out into the night. The lampposts lighting the base left no spot in the dark. The heat from the day was dissipating quickly and the wind was picking up in short gusts. She headed for a small building butted up between two large buildings.
“I’m glad you decided to join us. I tell you that because I want you to understand, I will always be as forthcoming with each of you as I possibly can. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She paused and turned around to face them. “I expect the same in return.”
She gauged each of them, making sure they understood the implications of her statement. Turning, she continued toward the building. The group followed, with Tom bringing up the rear. Two guards stood at the door of the small building. They saluted as the group approached. One finished the salute and quickly opened the door for her.
I need to learn their names. I’ve been in Washington too long.
A blast of cold air from the open doorway hit them all. Alexandria tensed as the arctic-like air began to chill her. She enjoyed the heat more than the cold and, in fact, hated the cold with a passion. She was determined not to stay inside for long. She owed these four young men the truth and, once she broke the news to them appropriately, she would be able to leave.
I have to leave for D. C. anyway, thankfully.
They entered single file, walking down the hallway. It had solid metal floors, walls and ceilings, most of it dark gray. A thin carpet covered all the floors. Turning left down the first hallway, she stepped into the first door on their right. It was a general meeting room and she wanted them seated for the news. The room’s center was taken by a large, solid cherry conference table. It was oval and polished perfectly smooth. Its rich texture matched the decor of the rest of the room including the floor cabinets on opposite sides of the table along the walls. Behind the table on the far wall from the door was a cherry cabinet with hinged doors. The doors swung out revealing an enclosed dry erase board. She wasn’t going to need it.