June 29th, 2021
0715 hours
The office was quiet, and the atmosphere sterile in a nearly surgical way. It almost smelled like a hospital, and certainly looked it, with the plain white walls and cold, uncomfortable chairs. Not a single picture frame hung on the walls, and the desk held nothing but a few pencils in a metal cup. The woman behind the desk sat rigid, reminiscent of a statue, her features sharp as if carved from hard marble. She cleared her throat and flicked her raven hair over her shoulder, icy eyes boring into the weary brown ones of the man sitting across from her. He was looking, not at her, but at his lap, and only glanced up when she cleared her throat again.
"Mr. Perez," she said, settling comfortably back in her armchair. "I understand you have some concerns about the recent events occurring on my rig."
"Yes, ma'am." The man spoke, his voice low. "I'm worried about the crew."
The woman blinked, the only motion on an otherwise indifferent face. "Excuse me? Could you elaborate on that, please?"
Tony shrugged uncomfortably. Lynne Ellis was cold, calculating, and self-serving. It was code among the workmen to never find themselves in a situation that would land them in her office. She sat unmoving, staring him down like a lioness, waiting for her prey to look away so she could pounce. For the third time she cleared her throat.
"Mr. Perez? Can you elaborate for me please?"
Tony winced at her harsh voice, visibly shrinking as if her oily tone was reducing him to a mere cockroach. His throat felt like sandpaper, but he managed to croak out a weak "Yes, ma'am."
He shifted again and spoke more clearly. "I'm worried about the safety of the crew, ma'am. I've noticed, well, the crew has noticed, that some of the workers have disappeared." He faltered. Her face was set in an emotionless attitude. He breathed in deeply and continued. "Many have turned up with horrible injuries or become sick."
"Accidents happen Mr. Perez."
"But they weren't accidents!" Tony banged his fists on the table and stood up so abruptly his chair toppled over. "I knew these men! They weren't weak, or ill. Stan was fine when I left him! I know something happened to him, you can't just ignore it. Rodgers and Logan are missing! These men had families, they'll be looking for them."
"The families have been notified."
"And what did you tell them?" Tony yelled, slapping his hand on the desk. Lynne's cold eyes trained on his rough fingers, her stare nearly arctic. He gulped and slowly pulled his hand away.
"That is confidential, Mr. Perez, and strictly between myself and the bereaved." Lynn's tone was final.
"What about that-that thing they caught?"
"Merely coincidental." Lynne waved a dismissive hand as if wafting a bad smell. "Strange as this world is, there is nothing more alien than the ocean. I'm sure even you have seen things you didn't know existed."
"Yeah but-"
"I assure you that there is nothing to worry about. I have personally overseen the investigations, and have no evidence to support the theory that these are anything less than routine mishaps." Lynne sat back in the chair and smiled sardonically at Tony. "Unless you fear there is a boogey man about, Mr. Perez. Or is it the Yeti?"
His mouth gaped. "But...but Mrs.! Aren't you the least bit worried that these aren't coincidences? What if it keeps happening?"
Lynne turned back to the papers on her desk and shuffled them some, indicating her boredom and lack of interest. "I can assure you that we have launched full inquiries into these occurrences. I can also assure you that we have found them to be merely circumstantial and of no further discussion."
"But..." Tony faltered as she cut him off.
"Mr. Perez." Lynne smiled sweetly before producing a small silver key and unlocking the topmost drawer beside her. "Are you fully aware of the terms and conditions, as drafted per your initial hire, which in detail provided you with a very extensive list of accidents that any crew member is liable to incur in your profession?" As she withdrew her hand from the drawer he noticed a slim file, with what suspiciously looked like his name scrawled across the label.
"Yes, I am aware." He gaped at her. "What does that have to do with Stan's death?"
Lynne coolly looked him over, flipping through the folder. "It has everything to do with it. He had an unfortunate accident. Getting injured on or in the vicinity of the rig is not an uncommon misfortune. Things like this just happen."
He angrily opened his mouth to speak, but once again she cut him off, this time her voice ringing in the small office.
"Stanley was made aware of the dangers, as were you, and every single individual that has ever stepped foot on this property." She stated simply, slipping one of the forms, his form, across the desk. It rested in front of him and he took it in quickly. His brow furrowed as he read, and the courage he had mustered up before walking into her office slowly leached away.
Lynne smiled triumphantly, folding her hands under her chin. "This, if you don't recall, is the original copy of the employment agreements and contracts packet, which includes a very detailed list of anything and everything that might befall someone on my oil rig. Underneath this list is a release form indicating that unless extraordinary calamities occur, beyond any scope listed here, anything adhering to the definition of an accident, as defined above, is in no way the fault of the administration or staff. This is your signature, is it not, Mr. Perez?"
"Yes, but I don't understand." He frowned. "Why are we looking at my file?"
"Simply, Mr. Perez, due to the fact that every one of us has signed this waver. I myself have the exact paperwork in my file. You should consider yourself lucky."
"What do you mean?" Tony's heart sank, sure that the evil gleam in her eye wasn't a figment of his imagination.
"This could have just as easily happened to you."
"Ma'am?"
"With all that's been 'going on around here', as you put it, they might have been shoving you in a body bag."
"Well, I'm not." He said stiffly, fear slipping like cold water down his spine.
"I hope you don't befall the same fate as Stan." Lynne's voice held a venomous tone that wasn't missed by his alert ears.
"Are you-?" He was terrified now. This clearly wasn't a woman to be trifled with. Her insolent gaze and indifferent manner indicated she had no qualms about keeping him in line. He had no doubt she would go to great lengths to keep him out of her hair, and wouldn't hesitate to silence him.
"It's only a warning. I wish you the best, but I must insist you be careful, Mr. Perez." Her lips were pressed thin as she rummaged for a file folder.
"Do we have an understanding?" She continued brusquely, shoving the files back into the desk and pocketing the key in her bra cup. His eyes widened at this gesture. Yes, he thought, this was an extremely deadly female.
Tony sat staring at the imposing woman, trying to motivate his frozen limbs to run from her deadly presence. Several chilly minutes passed before either spoke.
"Is that all Mr. Perez?" Lynne glanced up briefly.
Tony shuffled his feet, head hung but eyes blazing with injustice. "Yes, ma'am, that will be all."
He was almost at the door and within sight of glorious freedom before he heard her icy voice.
"Tony?"
"Yes, Ms. Ellis?" He gritted his teeth, bracing himself. His sweaty palm clung to the doorknob.
So close.
"Be alert."
Tony could hear his heart beat in his ears and was sure she could hear it as well. His hand slipped nervously, jarring the knob. The resounding rattle echoed through the quiet office.
"After all, you are an irreplaceable member of this establishment." Her soft, tingly laugh followed him as he wrenched the door open from the jamb, darting through the welcoming crack and into the soft rays of the rising sun.
He thought he heard her say, as the door creak ominously shut behind his quivering back, "We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you."
Tony sucked in the dense, fresh air, his body physically drained. No, he decided resolutely, you better watch your back.
It was louder than usual on the deck, and when he glanced around he immediately saw why. A helicopter had landed on the helipad, and several official-looking men in suits were standing in a circle, talking to a deputy and his lieutenant. The tallest one, the one that seemed to command the most respect, jerked his head up, looking straight at Tony.
Tony shuddered at the hard, dead eyes that probed unwelcomingly into his own brown ones. They were scary, far scarier than what he'd seen in Lynne's, and made him shiver with premonition. The air seemed to still around him, like he was sucked into a vacuum, and the longer he held eye contact, the more he felt it.
Every particle of his being was on display, dissected by the intense gaze of the suited man. It felt as if he was being picked apart, analyzed into manageable parts, like his very soul was being inspected. It was such an invasive feeling that Tony was frozen to the spot, unable to will his legs to move.
Finally, after an eternity of being observed, the man nodded in recognition, eyes narrowing slightly, before he tore his gaze away and the link was broken. Tony knew it was only a matter of time before the owner of those soulless eyes would be speaking to him: the earpiece in the agent's ear was telling. Now that the FBI was here, he wasn't sure what he would say, in the event they questioned him.
The weight of everything piled up and finally consumed him, and his mind exploded with images of Stan's body, the morbidity of it hitting him like a train.
After wolfing down his breakfast, Tony had eagerly bolted onto the deck, biscuits in hand, eyes searching excitedly for his friend. Stan was more of a father figure to him, really, and Tony loved spending time with him.
The deck, though, was empty. Tony recalled heading toward the railing, and his body moving in slow motion, as he noticed a crumpled heap on the metal, near the edge. He'd halted, not sure what he was seeing at first, confusion settling over his brain. Then, when the realization hit him, he'd bolted, the biscuits falling from his hands, coming to a crouch beside the body and gently shaking the shoulders.
It was only when he'd tried to rouse Stan that he saw the blood: he pulled his trembling hands away from the body, eyes wide in shock, a strangled yelp emitting from his throat. He'd stumbled back on his hands and feet, scrambling to get away from the sight.
It was only a matter of time before he was questioned. The image of his dead friend played on repeat in his brain, a single tear escaping the corner of his eye. As he turned to go, the agent flicked his eyes toward him once again, and Tony could see the promise in them.
He had a feeling that man had no intention of leaving the rig until he knew what was going on, and Tony planned to make that happen; no matter what Ellis threatened him with.