Chapter 1: Altered Flow

Apprehension. A simple sheet of paper with a message scribbled hastily upon it. The news the words bore was one that was far from pleasing, and the young man carrying the note knew so. His anxiety was clear in the shifting of his eyes, in the slight turn of his lips, and most notably in the stiffness of his stride. Cobalt cargo pants swished gently, sneakers slapping quietly against pale blue tile. Narrow shoulders shifted uneasily beneath a white shirt, a cobalt simple vest covering the top. Loose strands of black hair feel over the youth's sandy brown eyes, a quick breath brushing them aside. Glancing again at the paper, he grunted his displeasure, both at the message and also being the one to deliver it to the commanding officer. Fingers tightened against the sheet, creases forming before he rammed the note into a pocket. His pace increased, mind set on delivering the message with clarity, hoping that appearing authoritative might keep the commander from ripping him apart. The crowds that seemed to fill the hallway seconds ago thinned to a single person scurrying about. Rounding a corner in the passageway he pressed against the wall to allow a small collection of people dressed in white lab coats to filter past before continuing his trek. Space between doors increased as the messenger moved on, nameplates affixed to the entryways. The end of the corridor drew nearer, a single door placed within the wall. Stepping to the entrance, the youth paused, closing his eyes to draw in on last deep, settling breath, a hand reaching for the handle. Fingers lightly graced the gold-plated handle, drawing back ever so slightly before wrapping around the metal, pushing the lever down. A muffled click answered his action, the thick door swinging inwards gently. A warm yet inquisitive face greeted the messenger, the commander's personal secretary seated behind a solid wood desk. “I've got a message,” he paused, grinning sheepishly as he held up the crinkled sheet of paper, “for the commander.”

“Oh, well the commander isn't in, but I can hold on to that until she returns,” the secretary offered, setting her pen on the desk.

“Well she needs to see this A.S.A.P. You know where I can find her?”

The middle-aged woman smiled warmly again, “She should be down at the pool. I still think it'd be a better idea if you just let me have it,” the smile remained, her elbow propped on the desktop, hand extended for the paper.

“Thanks,” he flashed a quick smile before continuing, “but I've been ordered to give it directly to the commander.”

“Orders are orders I suppose,” the woman sighed, leaning back in her chair, fingers slowly running through shoulder length, sandy blond hair.

Offering an apologetic smile, the young man nodded in agreement, grasping hold of the door as he backed out of the room. The door gave off a muffled click as it swung back into its resting place. Drawing in another deep breath as he shoved the note back into a pocket the young man began his trek towards the facility’s pool.

---

Tiny waves drifted lazily along the surface of crystal blue water, quietly lapping against smooth tile. Beneath them a slender female glided through the liquid with ease, body twisting about as if swimming in air. She settled to the bottom, thrusting upwards, water exploding out as her head broke the surface. Tiny droplets of water scattered as the woman tossed her head about, long strands of fiery red hair whipping about. Filling her lungs with a long breath, she smiled, a hand rising out of the water to comb through damp hair. A slender finger hooked several loose locks of hair behind an ear, eyes admiring the image the pool mirrored. Stray drops of water fell free, rippling the image of a beautiful young woman. The smile that adorned her lips grew, eyes breaking from the surface of the water to stare into the crude ceiling high above the pool. “Could use a little decorating, but nothing beats a good swim, alone,” she stressed the last word, turning to glare at a young man just entering the room, “This better be important.”

“Sorry commander, but I was told to bring a message directly to you,” he sounded a tad scared as he lifted a crumpled sheet of paper.

The commander let out a calming sigh, waving the messenger over. He hurried around the edge of the pool, meeting the slightly irritated female at her towel. Propping an elbow on the lip of the pool, the commander hoisted herself up, snatching the sheet, the paper moistening in her damp hand. Peeking up from the message, she spotted the messenger’s eyes wandering over her body, “You’re dismissed private.”

He seemed startled as he straightened up, snapping a quick salute before scurrying away. Returning her attention to the urgent note as the sound of a closing door echoed in the expansive room, she grunted her displeasure with the interruption, but allowed a small grin at the thought of the young man’s stares. The grin died quickly, the already wrinkled paper bending under an iron grip. Breathing became heavy, emerald eyes boring holes in the ink and paper, lips pursed tightly as she continued on. “Shit,” was all she could hiss, slapping her hand and note against the tile floor, “shit!”

Fingers kneaded temples tensely, a series of deep breaths bringing down the intensity of the anger that burned within. Water sprayed across the tile as the women planted both hands firmly on the floor, pulling herself from the pool. For a moment she simply stood, staring blankly at the exit, contemplating what she would say to her commanders. No answers were readily available so she bent over and snatched up her towel, leaving the soggy paper alongside the pool. ‘It’ll be common knowledge soon enough,’ she thought as she wrapped the thick cloth around herself, padding quickly towards the small locker room hidden away in a corner, ‘and when it is, people will want answers and action. I need to have both ready.’

---

Eyelids squeezed shut, a hissing breath cut short in the throat, the eyelids snapped open, jade eyes wide. The young man was vaguely aware of the dull pain that throbbed in his left shoulder. A voice nearby mumbled incoherent words, an unfamiliar face presenting itself to the inquisitive gaze. The face’s lips moved, only a drone spilling out to fill the air. Jade eyes hid from view, the young man slowly shaking his head. The droning slowly fell away, recognizable words rising in its wake, “Feeling okay?”

He replied with a low groan, head rolling so he could gaze upon the bulky bandage covering his wounded shoulder. Tracing the limb with his gaze he found a tube connected to his elbow, a clear liquid flowing down to his joint. “Where?” the single word came out quiet, head swiveling back to look at the face.

“You’re in the base’s infirmary, kid,” the man’s voice seemed frustrated, as if he’s been trying to tell him that for some time, “You do know what I’m talking about right?”

The kid slowly blinked a few times, mind pondering if he truly did know. Finding he held a vague remembrance he nodded. “Kay, kid. You rest, I’ll go tell the doc you’re up.”

Eyes followed the older man as he made his way from the small room, the door gently closing behind him. Glancing back to the white material placed over a wound, he brought his free hand to gingerly inspect the wrap. As he continued his examination the door reopened, a small group of adults filing into the cramped room. One of them cleared his throat, attempting to attain the boy’s attention. Removing his hand from the bandage and turning his head to the gathered crowd he gave them a questioning glace. “Lloyd Webber, the commander would like to have a word with you as soon as the doctor clears you.”

A man dressed in the simple black suit pushed his way through the crowd, pausing at the bedside long enough to gather up a clipboard. After a thorough check of the charts, followed by a quick physical exam, the doctor nodded to the solitary female in the group and took his leave. With a simple nod the woman dismissed the rest of the group, her attention returning to the young man before her. Lloyd returned the attention with curious interest. Her navy blue pantsuit was crispy pressed, auburn hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Aquamarine eyes shone like ice as she gazed steadily into Lloyd’s. “I need you to tell me everything about last night’s failure,” she ordered evenly, seeming to choke one the last word.

Lloyd’s faces scrunched with slight confusion, gaze shifting as he tried to remember the events of the previous night. For a moment his eyes fell upon a glass of water. “Rain,” he said with as much conviction as discovery.

“Yes, it was raining last night. What else?”

“A fence… I went over a fence,” he stated, seemingly lost in another world.

The commander nodded, hoping that her soldier would reveal more about the mishap. “One man… there was one guy who… he killed them all,” he spoke softly, looking up at his commander, eyes moist with tears, “He told me to run home to momma.”

The tears were expected, but the news wasn’t, ‘One man… one man stopped an entire operation.’

“What did he look like? Are you sure it was only one? How did he do it?” she felt flustered, and she noticed her onslaught of questions was driving Lloyd into a shell.

The need to console wasn’t strong enough to overcome her need to know who had stalled her mission. Releasing a deep breath she gave Lloyd a weak smile before stepping from the room. For a moment there was no readily available direction to go in so the commander remained just outside the infirmary. ‘Intel said that all the guards posted at the dam were basic rent-a-guards. They also said they checked all of them against our database… I think I need to pay those guys a visit.’

---

Low whistles, accompanied by a variety of catcalls, pervaded a dimly lit room. The noise arose from several men of varying ages huddled about a glowing screen, one such individual occupying a chair directly in front of the monitor. His young face held a sly smirk as he kept token attention on the display before him, most of his focus on the approving words from those surrounding him. The screen dimmed as the previous image faded, another taking its place, followed by another volley of calls and whistles. Hidden within the noise was the closing of a door. One of the elder men standing on the outer ring around the monitor turned at the first audible footfall, squinting into the darkness of the room. “Hello?” he asked shakily, fingers slowly curling.

“Is that any way to greet your commanding officer?” a sharp feminine responded causing the man’s eyes to widen, his back to stiffen.

Whispering a curse, he offered the commander a salute before scurrying back to his desk. “Hey, Charlie. You gotta see this one,” another, younger, man whispered, turning his head to where the first man had been seconds before, “Charlie?”

“Your friend has met the wrath of the commanding officer for failing to fulfill his duties,” the woman informed the intelligence man, stepping closer and bending slightly to look him in the eyes, “And you might join him if not back at your post this instant.”

With quivering hands, the chided man tapped his coworkers and motioned from the commander to their seats. Shock greeted the commander’s hauntingly warm grin as each man turned from the monitor before hurrying back to their desks and the awaiting work. Noticing the lack of noise, the man seat in front of the monitor turned, glancing wide-eyed up at the woman. “C-commander, to what do we owe this honor?” he choked out, quickly halting the slideshow of images parading across his screen.

“It seems a failure in this department lead to a catastrophic failure in the field. Mind explaining that to me?”

The middle-aged man answered with a look of perplexity, holding a hand over his mouth, a finger rubbing his mustache. “So the dam mission failed,” he said, as much a question and a realization, “I can tell you, we checked all the guards against the system, ran the simulations and gave your guys the best option.”

“Your best option left five of my guys dead and one too scared to think straight,” the commander growled between clenched teeth, “now I’d like to see those guard files.”

With a few simple keystrokes on the nearby keyboard and a directory of guards employed by the dam appeared. “It’s all yours,” the man spoke crisply, rising from his seat, and exited the room.

Exhaling deeply, the auburn haired woman dropped into the swivel chair, reaching out to bring the mouse and keyboard closer. Aquamarine eyes scanned labeled icons of individual missions, pausing on one entitled ‘Raging River’. Opening the folder, she scanned the contents, selecting ‘Target’. A new list of files appeared, one catching the eye of the commander: ‘Guards’. An image with accompanying notes emerged, scrutinizing eyes pouring over the information. The process repeated methodically for several profiles before a photo caused the commander to pause, surprise masked in her face, but was apparent in her eyes. “You!” she shouted at the first man she had encountered in the room, finger pointed in his direction, “Here. Now.”

Charlie jumped from his seat and strode to the commander’s side with a rushed pace. “You ran him through the system too?”

“Yes ma’am,” he assured, emphasizing his certainty with a nod.

Silence overtook the room, save for the whir of cooling fans, while the woman glared at the image on the screen. The spiky brown hair, the narrow eyes, the deep brown skin. “Add him into the system. File him under Magma,” she commanded, rising from the seat and leaving the room.

---

“Have you determined the source of this… mishap?”

“Yes sir. A Magma agent has been posing as a guard, and somehow he slipped past the database. I have taken measures to correct that mistake,” the woman in question assured, eyes focused upon a large screen affixed to a wall.

“I see…” the masculine voice sighed, the owner of the voice pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

“Has the leader been informed yet?”

“He’s the one who brought it to my attention. He’s awaiting your new course of action to remedy this delay. Think hard and plan carefully commander. We can’t afford a second failure,” the man warned, his image disappearing, leaving the commander to herself in the small conference room.

Breaking away from the monitor, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, the commander sat on the edge of a circular table. Her body slouched forward slightly as her mind mulled over the possible actions she could take. The more she thought about it the more she found herself thinking about the reason she was in this predicament in the first place. Nails began to dig into varnished wood as fingers tightened against the rounded edge of the table. “You’ll pay for this Brock,” she seethed quietly, “I’ll personally make sure you pay.”

To be continued…