Samuel

Chapter 37

Quickly, reaching her destination, a massive training yard, the room, over a hundred square yards, maintained the illusion of being above ground. Like the windows in her office, the faux sky, programmed into the ceiling, held a shifting sun and clouds, which brought shadows to the field, peppering them slightly. The thud and smack of bodies hitting the cushioned floor, clicks and whirls from machinery, and the sound of air rifles from the distance encircled the yard.

Recruits split into areas where their talents lie. Some sparred with and without weapons; others completed technical tasks while manipulating software or developing new technologies for espionage. Yet even a smaller number performed war games scenarios to test their capabilities with abstract planning.

Janet organized farthest to the right of the door in this huge training yard along with those holding the aptitude for projectile weapons, sharpshooters. To ensure a cost-efficient program, they utilized software to simulate firing weapons. An actual rifle augmented with a laser sight and scope to examine accuracy with a large screen; basically, a video game shooting range.

Live rounds established a treat for these individuals, a motivating factor to ensure compliance. Heading to the surface twice a week, only those who scored high enough maintained the ability to fire these weapons downrange. The sweet aroma of gunpowder and the ability to see the authentic sky allowed the trainees to vehemently train themselves, honing their instincts, pressing their skills to the brink for these chances.

Becoming adept to this very quickly, in the beginning, Janet completed assessments to her capabilities in each group. Marksmanship talents drove her. The first time she felt a pistol, a Beretta 9mm, it felt like home, a new home as opposed to the former. One, which she was forced to leave, the other where she fled. This home, she chose a choice she never regretted, a choice she reveled in. As she held the weapon in her hand for the first time, she hit each pop-up target except for the last one after some brief instruction. It was then that she trained and tested on rifles. Proving herself, a natural, she hit each target three hundred meters away straight through the head. All of this in just three days.

Taking to the training with ease, her peers and trainer marveled at her progress. No one more so, than the woman, the director, Namirah, who brought her into this world. Delighting at this young girl's effort to reach her own potential, reminding her of her granddaughter whom she missed terribly, her heart ached as she thought of her little fire starter. At one moment, she turned away to prevent her tears from flowing like a fount.

Closing her eyes to regain her focus, she glimpsed two men and a boy. The same boy she attempted to capture almost two weeks earlier. In danger, she sensed Jonathan's chief lieutenant Chandra near him. Her anger blossomed as she witnessed this. Their beacons of energy pulsed heavily, flowing into the farthest regions of the Americas. Worrisome of his plans coming to fruition, her eyes snapped open.

At the same moment, Janet looked behind her to see the woman hurrying out of the room. Bringing more pain to her than she expected, Janet felt a knife twist into her, the pain of childhood. Here she was, firing a perfect score while her peers provided her accolades, however, the woman's praise mattered to her most. Seeing her leave premature infuriated her, sickly heat erupted in her stomach. Redirecting it, she refocused on her task.

Dropping the magazine from the electronically manipulated rifle, she waited until it reset. Her aggression taken out as quickly as the targets would. Sliding a full magazine again into the rifle, feeling the housing latch upon onto the magazine, she reset the range. Switching the selector lever from safe to semi stiffly, yet gently squeezing the trigger, her angst streamed out of the barrel of the weapon.

Watching Janet from afar, Director Namirah attention shifted. Turning slightly, she remembered the news report of the onslaught in New York on Jonathan's tower. The director reached into her kaftan and pulled out a cellphone. Dialing her head office, it rang once before they answered.

"Yes, madam." The voice spoke on the other end.

"What do our people on the ground say about the boy's whereabouts?"

"Well," The voice answered, "We witnessed his escape with the large man before the tower erupted in a frenzy. We attempted to trail them but have lost them outside of Pennsylvania. However, we did discover two large spikes of energy from a reservoir in Virginia."

"That's it!" Director Namirah said loudly. "Send out 234 and 438. The boy is there. They must hurry; he is in danger of escaping our grasp again." The woman said hurriedly.

"If I may madam, wouldn't Astanan and Mical potentially be best suited to capture him? I mean, given the how he has evaded us in the past?" The voice offered.

Thinking to herself for a moment, Director Namirah stated, "No, they need to stay close. I don't trust those two unbound. Also, it would take too long for them to reach them. 234 and 438 are near DC."

"Yes, madam. Right away."

Hanging up the phone Namirah closed her eyes, thinking of the urgency needed to acquire the boy, Namirah grimaced. If not, Jonathan would win. Win what? The boy was the key to that answer. 

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