“I don’t ask you for much, but I ask you of this; when I tell you what I know, please promise me that you’ll have an open mind. For this to work, for you to understand what is needed of you and your crew, you’re going to need to be as open-minded as possible.”
I nodded my head sternly. Open-mindedness was my specialty.
Chapter Seven
Operational leader Sam had been called to the conference room. One minute he’d been on the main floor, surveying his team as they’d worked on their computer terminals, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the Annex Rebel Fleet, and then the next minute he’d been summoned to the dark and dank offices at the top of the building.
The elevators were out, so he had to take the stairs. And after about ten minutes of sweat inducing climbing, he reached the top floor, his forehead covered in a sheet of perspiration, his eyes dry with dehydration and his heart pounding in his chest.
He exited the staircase and walked into a narrow hallway. The hallway was peppered with filing cabinets and paperwork strewn all over the place. Usually, the top floor was a hive of activity. But now it was desolate.
He hadn’t seen a single person up there. And from what he could tell, operational leader Sam was definitely alone. Not that he was scared of being alone, but he was definitely scared of being summoned to talk with the bosses. Maddie, who had told him about the conference call, hadn’t been specific on what they had wanted from him. But he could guess that it had little to do with praising him, and a lot to do with scaring him.
After all, that is how Pilgrim Tech worked. They relished in the fear of others. Their game plan was simple; use fear to progress. And that is what they did. And they did it well. But the eeriness of the desolate top floor was making Sam feel uneasy. There he was, the leader of the pack, separated from his wolves. He worked better within a team, but the thing is; his team weren’t working well with him.
They were failing their mission. And operational leader Sam was aware of their failures. He was probably more aware of their failures than they were. A lot of the people he commanded worked in a bubble. A bubble of security. They turned the blind eye, and thought they were fighting the good fight. They tried to convince themselves that what they were doing was just and right. That without them, without their overlords; Pilgrim Tech, then nothing on this planet could survive.
But Sam knew differently. He knew that in his field lies were a commodity that were traded amongst most well-to-do men. And he had no doubt that they had definitely been lied to. He just didn’t know to what extent.
But that didn’t matter to Sam. All that mattered was getting through the conference call. And as he walked down another hallway, toward the conference room, he couldn’t help but look around in awe at the complete and utter loneliness that surrounded him.
Every office that he passed was empty. Every light was turned off. The hum of the computers was deafening. But he couldn’t hear any typing. He couldn’t hear any phone calls being made or received. He couldn’t hear the usual chatter amongst the workers. All he could hear was his constant heart beating through his chest. The nape of his neck was moist with sweat. His feet felt heavy as they clunked on the carpet. It was as if there was no carpet underneath him. And with every step he took, another deafly crunch echoed through the silence.
The crunching continued as he approached the ominous conference room at the end of the hallway. The wallpaper around him seemed to be peeling, but it was most likely all in his head. For in reality, the place wasn’t as scary or desolate as he saw it. Yes, there were no workers working on the top floor, and there was most likely a reasonable explanation for that particular coincidence, but operational leader Sam couldn’t help but think he was in a horror movie.
Or this was a hit. An attempt on his life. They were going to kill him. He was sure of it. Why else would all the workers be missing? Why else would there be no one to greet him at the top?
He stopped in his tracks for a few seconds, breathing heavily, his raspy lungs aching against his rib cage. The sweat dripping down his neck had now made its way down his lower back. It was like an ice cube being smudged into his hot skin. And every time a new drip found its way down his lower lumbar, he winced in pain. His eyes were strained, as a one-sided headache ravaged his skull. But he had to remain strong. He couldn’t show any weakness.
This wasn’t the time to freak out. This wasn’t the time to speculate.
He was needed – and had been ordered to attend the conference room. And even though he was a mere meter or so away from the door, staring at the handle, he couldn’t help but feel terrified at what lay behind it. A foggy window above the door revealed the darkness inside the conference room. Nobody was there.
At least, nobody was there with the lights on.
He started to panic. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. Every time he tried to, he started to choke, as if suddenly, the air around him manifested itself into something physical, something sharp and thick. Something he could swallow and choke on. He closed his eyes, trying to will himself to open the door.
And then he heard it.
A familiar sound. A phone ringing. The ringing phone was coming from within the conference room. It was loud and screeching as he stood there, still trying to find the guts and bravery that he once had. But his guts had long gone, along with his bravery, the day he signed on the dotted line and became a member of Pilgrim Tech. They say that ignorance is bliss; but when he joined the organization, there was no room for ignorance. Knowledge became fear. But he wasn’t afraid of the unknown, it was the known that he feared. And the ringing phone in the conference room, locked behind the oak door, only cemented that fear.
Because he knew that once he walked through those doors, and answered that phone, he’d know the true extent of the reason behind him being summoned to the top. And from his experience, knowing Pilgrim Tech’s full intentions usually filled the common man with dread.
But Sam couldn’t stand there like an idiot, waiting for the phone to stop ringing. He knew that he was being watched. He craned his head up, opened his eyes wide, and saw a security camera staring directly at him.
The light on the camera, inbuilt near the lens, was flashing green. As he moved toward the door, the camera followed him. He cleared the meter between him and the door within a second. Putting his hand on the handle, he slowly but steadily clicked the door open, pushing it until he could see the void of the conference room.
Without hesitating, knowing that they were still watching him, he stepped into the conference room, quickly turning on the lights, trying to act calm, walked up to the table, a large table, usually home to men in suits, sitting around it like the Lords that they were, and approached the ringing phone. The phone was close to the door, so he didn’t need to walk around the large table.
He quickly picked it up, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath in.
“Hello operational leader Sam, my name is Agent Six,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. Sam’s eyes widened - he was talking to an agent and not a boss – and that couldn’t be a good thing.
Agents were the backbone of Pilgrim Tech. They were ruthless in their pursuit of the truth. Their sole purpose was to audit and control Pilgrim Tech’s subordinates. In all his time within the organization, operational leader Sam had never talked to an agent. He’d heard stories of people that had. Stories of them never returning to the organization again. Stories of them disappearing off the face of the planet.
Off the edge of the Galaxy, even.
“I take it that you know that the fact that I’m calling you means something significant, right?” The Agent said, his voice raspy and gravelly. Operational leader Sam wasn’t sure if the man was using a voice changer, or if his voice was that scary naturally.
“Is this about the Annex Rebel Fleet? We are trying our best to pinpoint their location, sir. I know that you have a job to do, but so do I. I don’t think I’m much good up here taking phone calls, wh
en I should be down there trying to win us this war,” Sam said, surprised of his bravado on the phone. He wanted the Agent to know that he wasn’t scared. But in doing so, the choice of words that he’d used, Sam thought that he’d already blown it.
“So you think this is a war?” The Agent asked.
Sam gulped, hoping that it wasn’t audible on the phone.
“Well, we were attacked. So I figure that the fact that we were attacked by an enemy force that wants us to disband our operations, while threatening us with violence, means that we are very much at war,” Sam said.
“Good, you aren’t as stupid as I thought you were. You are right, operational leader Sam. This is war. And in times of war, many great men are needed. Men that can pull their weight and get the job done. The reason I am calling you a simple; you have been an asset to this organization. And we want you to continue to be an asset to this organization. But unfortunately, it seems that during the pressure of this ordeal, your team and yourself have lost your spark. You see Sam, this whole organization runs on spark – mustard – spunk, whatever you want to call it. It runs on it like an engine runs on fuel. When our team members run out of fuel, all burned out and close to crashing, we like to remind them of the reason why they joined our little team.”
“Sir, I’m fully aware of the reasons. And I appreciate the phone call, but I can assure you that we have everything under control,” Sam said.
There’s a moment or two of uncomfortable silence. Operational leader Sam could hear the crackle of the phone against his ear. The Agent was far away. The quality of the call proved that to be a fact. But it felt as if the Agent was right next to him, whispering in his ear. He could feel the man’s breath against his neck. The menace in his voice. The monotone decibel of his speech, overbearing against his eardrum.
And then he spoke again.
“I’m ever so glad that you are adamant in completing your mission, operational leader Sam. But the reason I am calling you is to instill a little motivation in you. As I said, this organization runs on spark. And from time to time, we as human beings lose sight of our original goals. These goals are very important to Pilgrim Tech. But we understand, no one is perfect. And we aren’t asking you or your team to be perfect. All we are asking you is to remember the cause. To remember the reason why we fight. To remember that we are being attacked by an enemy contingent that wants nothing but destruction for our way of life. And just so you understand what I’m trying to say here operational leader Sam, let me affirm to you of the severity of failing this mission,” the Agent said.
Sam closed his eyes, and readied himself for whatever the Agent was about to lay down on him.
“You see Sam, if we lose this fight, and let the rebels win, then we risk losing a lot more than our organization. I cannot guarantee the safety of your family if you continue to lag on this mission. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say to you, operational leader Sam. And if you don’t understand, I’m pretty sure that my assumption on the danger of your family will come true,” the agent said, his voice sounding a little deeper than before.
Sam opened his eyes, they were moist. Deep down, he’d known what this call would have been about from the start.
“I’ll take your silence as a sign that you are fully aware of the situation – and the impact of your possible failure on us all. I hope that I have cleared things up for you. The last thing I want to happen is for our family members to suffer for our sins, Sam. But unfortunately, we live in a world where the sins of the father have to be accounted for,” the Agent said, the phone line going dead almost immediately.
Sam stood there, tears in his eyes, heart thumping in his chest and sweat dripping down his face. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the emptiness of the room as the threats from the Agent sunk into his psyche. Was his family really in danger? Would they really sink to that level? Or was this all part of the act?
Sam didn’t have the answers to those questions, but he did know what he had to do to avoid finding out.
And that was win.
***
There was a mysterious man roaming the offices of the Pilgrim Tech officials. He was a non-descript man. He didn’t hold any significant facial features nor did he stand out from the crowd. He was just another suit. Another suit doing his job. A computer tablet in his right hand, a cup of coffee in his left. A drab tie around his neck. Non-designer eyeglasses. No facial hair. No tattoos. No smile. Just a man going about his business. But he had two jobs that day. His first job, and the least important one at that, was to do his duties in the office.
File papers. Attend meetings. Be a part of the chaos. But his second job, the most important one, was a secret one. It was a job that no one in the Pilgrim Tech offices were aware of. And thankfully so, because if they found out about his second job, his most important job, then he probably wouldn’t be walking out of that office alive today.
But the man was clever. And being non-descript, he blended in like a chameleon on a tree.
And it was from this tree of life and death that he blended in, just another face in the crowd. He continued with his first job. And for the past few hours he’d been bringing coffee to the other, much more powerful people in suits while they talked about the crisis in the Milky Way Galaxy. He remained quiet as he gave them cup after cup, pretending not to listen, but taking in everything they said.
It wasn’t as if he needed to know how they felt. He could see it on their faces. They were scared. And their fear made him happy. For so many years, he’d worked under the fringes of society. And for the majority of those years, he’d been a law-abiding citizen. But the nondescript man became fed up with how the world worked. He’d seen too many good people suffer at the hands of the government. And even though he currently worked for the government, there comes a point when even the most stubborn man loses faith.
But instead of doing what most would do, and quit, he decided to stay along for the ride. And what a ride it was going to be! He knew of men, men that wanted nothing but to overthrow the government on Earth. Men that would stop at nothing to bring the complete and utter destruction of the elite to fruition. And it was with these men that he socialized with, grew to like, grew to trust and above all grew to serve.
It’s hard to hold down two jobs at once. But for this non-descript, nonconforming, non-rattled man, having a purpose in life far outweighed the possible dangers of going against the grain. And that was exactly what this man was doing. Smiling to their faces, handing them coffee, holding down a non-descript job to match his nondescript face, just so he could be of use on this very special day.
“Thanks,” one of the men in suits sat around the table said as the non-descript man handed the very powerful man a cup of hot steaming Joe.
Out of the eighteen other men that he’d just handed coffee to, this was the only one of them that had said thank you. The non-descript man would remember that. He would store that in his memory banks. And when the shit hits the fan, and the men around this table would come to their end, he’d remember that man that said thanks.
He’d die quicker than the rest. It was the right thing to do.
After all, mercy was an important part of war. And this was war. A war from the inside. At least for this man. Pushing his coffee tray out of the meeting room, the non-descript man had a smile on his face. It went against everything he stood for. Smiling was not advisable when you wanted to remain below the surface of life – bubbling away – waiting for your moment to come to make yourself known. A smile gave away too much too soon to too many people. But seeing that he had his back to the men that he was about to help destroy, he figured that smiling wouldn’t hurt much.
“Enjoy your coffee,” the nondescript man muttered under his breath, closing the double doors behind him, and retreating into the shadows until the time was right.
Right to strike…
Chapter Eight
After what seemed like a very long time, the pr
isoner stopped talking. So far, he had made a believable case for himself. He’d tried to convince myself and the Alpha Ship One crew that there was more to this than met our collective eye. That his people, the so-called Annex Rebel Fleet, were an alliance of rebels that held the best interests of Earth and its people at heart.
He told us that their goal was to destabilize the corrupt government that controlled every aspect of our lives. Though what he was saying was far-fetched and borderline treasonous, I couldn’t help but sympathize with the idea that he was similar to me. After all, I had been on the end of Pilgrim Tech’s hit list once before. They had discarded me like trash. Thrown me away, along with my crew, onto an alien planet. They had marooned me from my people. And above that, they had cost the lives of serving members of my crew.
I didn’t know how much more savagery I could forgive. In my mind, I had done enough forgiving as it was. Pilgrim Tech had ruined the lives of many, and I wasn’t narrow-minded enough to see them as the good guys. But there are people out there that see things black-and-white. And this particular prisoner was one of those types. He saw Pilgrim Tech as evil. He also saw the people of Earth as suppressed, and oppressed at the same time. He saw them as people that didn’t know how to stand up to the elites of the world.
But as I said, not everything is as black-and-white as he says it is. There are many layers to the foundation of society. Some of those layers are blacker than others. And some of them are whiter. But together they form a contingent. A contingent that holds and glues the lives of many.
I didn’t know if I was prepared to join the Annex Rebel Fleet, as he had suggested. And I certainly couldn’t speak for the majority of my crew. Teresa would probably not want any part of this. Not to mention Philip. The two of them held a simplistic look on life. And after what they had been through on the Ursines planet, all they wanted was a peaceful life.
As for Dale, my longest serving member, and the only surviving member of the originals, he would most likely side with whatever I chose. Dale had a mind of his own, but unfortunately, that mind was easily swayed when it came to following his Captain. All Dale wanted to do was please me. But all I wanted to do was please everybody else.
Destroyer of Worlds (Alpha Ship One Book 2) Page 9
