Unit 216

Chapter 3: "The Academy"

The orb rolled away gently. Alexander stretched out an arm to retrieve it, only to have two more masked goons come his way. But the heavy man that first lunged at him did a great job in securing the agent flat on his back.

"What do you want?" Alexander said through his teeth and ground them in frustration.

"We want," the man answered slowly as his squad stood around him. Alexander could sense their eyes all staring at him with hatred, though hidden in black cloth. How do they see in those?

His shirt was tugged violently, and he focused attention back on the man too close for personal space. His adversary nodded to his partners, then continued. "We want BATTLE for fall and the Ascendancy to rise."

He sounds familiar... if I just take off his mask. Alexander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Congrats then, you three have caught an old man and a graduating student! Your usefulness will be glorified by your messy council of unknown leaders."

Not waiting a response, Alexander jolted upright so suddenly that his enemy lost control for a second. You three. He could've sworn he'd counted them as they came marching. Was there even —where was the fourth?

There, strangling Brandon. The poor kid was looking bluish, his life being sucked out of his lungs. An image of his son flashed his mind. An image of Axel Bridger, whom he rarely visited. A father would never let something like that happen to his son. But he just...couldn't...move....

                                                                                             * * *

Axel rubbed his head a few more times before taking Kathryn's arm and leading towards the door. Something caught his eye, and he carefully picked up a rifle stowed under a seat.

Kathryn's questioning eyes peered at him. Axel's head gestured to the door. "Let's move."

She snickered as if to say, "Your unconscious body didn't even bother to nudge!"

She settled with, "Oh, you're telling me."

Axel could see her eyes land on his acquired weapon nearly leveled with his chest. "Just to intimidate," he reassured her. He's never shot any gun in his life, what more a rifle!

The gunshots were still cracking like fireworks, firing in every direction. One rogue bullet even planted itself in the limo's trunk. Only then did Axel begin to hesitate. Maybe they should wait it out, or maybe someone will take them hostage, with them being trapped inside.

Four more minutes had passed, while the two childhood friends stared at each other blankly, listening intently for anything worth panicking about. Just as their patience was aggravated to its limit, the firing ceased.

Soon, one of the bodyguards would show a thumbs-up sign. The two exited the vehicle with relief—not. Three bodies were spread out on the field and had to be the ones from the minivan; for the driver and the other guard were still on two legs.

Director Mason had one trembling hand on his elbow, blood painted on his upper right arm. Axel dropped his rifle to assist.

"I'm alright, son," he croaked. "It isn't the first time."

Axel shivered. He wondered how much the old director had gone through, or what bloody dangers awaited any agent, or what torture his father is going through. That was what they were here for, he reminded himself—to find and get Alexander Rowl back.

Axel could hear Kathryn's thoughts as they surveyed the bleak grass, wilting and coloring brown. How in the world can the Academy be here?

Mason was attending to his wound, caught a bodyguard beside him, and slapped the arm.