MACHINE LUNGS: rewrite

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Department A's base is found a few miles below the earth's surface. When I had first arrived at the base, I used to spend my nights staring at the ceiling- wondering when the roots and rocks and dirt would cave in and bury me alive. It would remind me of the agents who didn't return- their cold bodies locked away forever in a compact box, and hidden from view by a few feet of dirt.

I would visit the graves of my fallen colleagues when I was younger and morbidly fascinated with the idea of mortality. The meadow of unmarked graves rarely boasted of visitors, and why would visitors come?

The specialists enlisted by Department A, technically, don't exist. The people enlisted are simply a very powerful chess piece to help better the government. With no one to miss them, they are the perfect solution to a suicide mission.

The charitable Department A not only brings in those who do not exist, but also those who shouldn't exist. People, well, anomalies, like me who were caught up a crossfire they were never meant to be apart of.

Some think the A stands for absent, like many of these people's identities. I personally think it stands for aberration. Either way, Department A claims it is neither good nor bad.

Department A claims that it is simply cardinal to the wellbeing of the average citizen, and that it gives our otherwise pointless lives a chance to be worthwhile.

"Agent Hale?" I don't look away from the ceiling. "Director Bleck will see you now."

I continue staring at the ceiling as I lay on my bed, planning on waiting out the irritating assistant.

"I have explicit orders to remain here until you allow me to accompany you to Director Bleck."

I groan and roll myself to the side of my bed, and let my legs dangle from the edges. I shoot the receptionist a glare, and she ignores it by checking her name. Muttering obscenities underneath my breath, I stand of from my bed and stalk towards my closet.

It is small, and filled with purely practical outfits. I'm already dressed in a loose black t-shirt, and a pair of athletic pants so I simply grab a pair of track sneakers and pull them on my feet. Shutting the closet door, I drag myself to the smartly dressed woman.

She is tall, and her face is rather simple. Despite her mostly plain features, her eyes hold a certain ferocity to them. By the way she carries herself, I can tell she wants to climb the ladders of the CIA.

"So, you want to be an agent?" I question as we walk down the white, sterile hallways. This place is a bore interior design wise.

"I want to serve my country." She stares straight ahead, and her nude heels click against the floor.

"Well, you must irritated that you are stuck here- playing intern for Bleck in the most dangerous government branch."

"Dangerous?" Her lips quirk into a slight smile. "I graduated top of my class. It would take more than a teenage girl to scare me."

I nod. "Perhaps you should be wary of teenage girls. We've got more bite than you think."

My company laughs. "I like you." She stays quiet for a few seconds and then quirks an eyebrow at me. "So why exactly is Director Bleck so angry about?" She pauses and then widens her eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Not at all." I smile at her. "I brought a skyscraper to the ground."

She stares at me for a few seconds and then shakes her head. Her lips are pursed, and eyes disapproving. "I know you are young, and still have much to learn but that catastrophe was no laughing matter. The perpetrator is facing probation and possibly execution. They are incredibly unstable."