"Davenport." A deep voice came, making me turn around. We were stood in a hangar bay, surrounded by Medi-Vacs, helicopters, troop transport planes, cargo planes, and armored vehicles. One that I had been staring at in particular: a tan armored Humvee. It was twice the size of Derek's hummer, and it came equipped with a .50 caliber machine gun attached to the top, with a seat for the shooter.
"It's Connors, actually." I cleared my throat, standing an inch taller in his presence. He stood at 6'2 and looked to be in his early fifties with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. I then noticed the breast pocket: SHEPHERD.
Derek's father. At that moment, I wasn't sure if I was angry at him with Derek, or to be civil and act like I knew nothing. I hadn't had the time to think on it since we'd met in Christine's office earlier.
"I'll make a note of it." He looked down briefly, giving a tiniest of closed-mouth smiles. The man had compassion. Looking closer into his face, he had the lines of a happy person, not one of sadness. Where is eyes crinkled and the ones around the corners of his mouth, were from smiling. His eyes showed a deep understanding, one unlike anyone here I'd met. The rest of them were shallow and harder by time. He looked aged with wisdom, but also one of those appearances that he could turn it off in an instant, and look just as cold as I've seen Derek look when he wanted to.
"Are you and Masters ready to board?" I heard him dully, my eyes back focusing on the armored Humvee. There were twenty-four of them. I've counted.
"Connors?" His voice came with a little more edge this time. I shifted my eyes back suddenly, realizing I'd zoned out.
"This is real." I murmured softly. Derek's father looked at me, eyes almost softening then catching themselves.
"Yes." He didn't break eye contact. "It is." His grave voice finished. I blinked a few times feeling a sting behind my eyes.
"Conners, you will board in ten minutes by the east entrance. You and Masters will board the Sikorsky HH-60 Pave Hawk." He motioned with two fingers to the far side of the hanger, then disappeared from my sight.
At that moment I wanted to see Charlie. I had to find him. To tell him I love him.
* * *
Instinctively, I shoved Max back through the double doors into the hall we'd previously cleared. I slammed the doors shut behind us, hearing the locks engage. The Grid.
The first two floors didn't have as high tech security, all the threats were kept on the third, fourth, and fifth floors. That's where they controlled your every move.
"Glad you boys are catching on." Our Unit Leader spoke behind us in a grave tone. "You'll be UL's before long."
Those words alone gave me chills.
"How's that?" Max bit. Oh, not now.
"The Unit Leaders aren't picked for their leadership skills," UL Tanner said bitterly. "They're picked because they were the survivors." I felt a cold fist grip my gut. I found it hard to breathe for a second. Something was sickening about the way he said it.
"Let's move." His gruff voice parted us, he peered through the window, then clenched his right fist. There was a beep, and a green light blinked once and the locks disengaged on the door. Both me and Max stepped back. He controlled the doors?
"We don't want them to know we have this, yeah?" Tanner nodded sternly, looking in my eyes, then Max's. We both nodded slowly. How did he-?
"Good work, Shields." UL Tanner slapped one of the soldiers on his back. He was the only one left standing. Four men in opposing suits laid about the stairs, and two of our guys laid at Shields' feet. His mask was off, and he looked utterly terrified as if he'd witnessed a ghost slaughter his friends. Like he was trying to figure out how he was still alive.
