PROJECT SPARTA

CHAPTER 3

The Dean's office was littered with pictures of the man golfing with famous people. He had a large photo poster of a basketball hoop, underneath it was written: "OPPROTUNITY: You Miss 100% of the Shots You Don't Take". Upon entry, Xander's eyes met the full framed man who was awaiting him. He wore a neatly pressed set of olive green military formals. His face was familiar. It was crevassed with age, but built with austerity. It was a face that was present on the most difficult day of his life – the day he woke up as an orphan in the hospital after the car crash. As his brain was erased of all memories prior to that day, the man before him served as Xander's earliest recollection, amongst the album of his photographic memory. But his eyes strayed from the man to another person in the room - his foster mother, Ms. Baker. He approached with outstretched arms, giving her a tight hug.

"I'm done, Ms. Baker!"

"Congratulations! I am so proud of you!" The moment was short lived as the presence of the other man loomed over their reunion.

"Thank you, Dean Ellington..." The military man embraced the Dean's hand as an old friend. The Dean then exited the office and closed the door behind him, leaving Xander with his two visitors. Ms. Baker found a seat, but Xander and the man stood facing each other, awaiting the first move.

"My name is Jackson Hardy..." His deep, gruff voice sounded from the back of his throat. He had a frankness about him that was often mistaken as charm.

"I know..." Xander responded lost in the memory of the man that could not be ignored. It shook him to the core, as the feelings of loss and loneliness returned.

"I'm Xander..." he continued through the unearthed sadness of his childhood.

"I know..." Hardy's eyebrows rose as he cracked a smile from the corner of his lips. Hardy extended his hand and Xander shook it, but shrank his eyes away from him to a bouquet of lilies atop a waist high table between them. There was a short stalemate that formed between them as Xander processed his presence, trying to understand why he was there and what he wanted with him.

Breaking the silence, Hardy popped his hip out to nudge the table, knocking the tall, crystal vase atop it off balance. The vase toppled to the ground, but before it was able to crash land, Xander's hand darted across the room to catch the vase. Xander beamed up at Hardy from the floor with the vase in his hands.

"You did that on purpose!" Xander accused, breaking from his timid approach.

"Yes I did."

"But why, why would you want to break something so fragile?" he asked, gathering himself to back up to his feet.

"I wanted to make sure you're the Xander Whitt everyone's talking about."

"Who's talking about me?" he asked, perplexed by his apparent popularity.

"A lot of people who are very interested in having you come to our program. Xander, you have tested off the charts in every category."

Hardy helped himself to a glass of scotch at the Dean's wet bar. After pouring a few fingers worth, he settled down in the ornate armchair. Xander took the other seat across from Hardy and Miss Baker. By her posture, he knew Baker was unaware of the contents of the impending conversation.

"How do you remember me, Xander?" Hardy asked, broaching the elephant in the room.

"You came to see me in the hospital eight years ago, after my mother and father died." A quick knot formed in his throat, choked down by a dry swallow.

"What do you remember about that day?" Hardy further inquired, testing the depths of his recollection.

"You wore a different set of military formals, not nearly as pressed as these. You introduced yourself as Jackson Hardy, a man who was interested in performing some tests. You had me put together puzzles and solve word jumbles."