by Chloe Gunter
“What if I say yes and then afterwards I change my mind?”
“There is no changing your mind. Once you agree to undergo the Rites you will be bound to complete them. Do not make this decision lightly, novitiate.” The words were spoken with an intensity, their volume raising slightly as he stressed the message.
We sat there for a moment, me gathering my thoughts as he waited for my verdict. “And if I fail?”
“Then you will either be dead of your own mistakes or you will be returned to your prior life with no recollection of the Rites or our society in any way.” I cocked my head to the side at that statement.
“You have some type of hyper-ketamine cocktail that induces permanent amnesia?” The figure froze, going completely still.
“Something like that.” The words were staccato and sounded like they were forced out.
“That wasn’t an answer,” I pushed, trying to see how far I could take them.
“I cannot and will not lie to you. Some things however, I cannot disclose until you are a full-fledged Ethos member and have completed the Rites.” My shoulders relaxed and the figure mimicked my posture. I let out a small ironic laugh.
“That’s fair, actually, if you said anything else then I would know you were a crock of shit.” His shoulders moved slightly up and down like they were containing a laugh.
“What else? We only have a few minutes left.”
‘What can you tell me that you want me to know?” I hoped that it was enough of an open ended question that this person, whoever they were, would be able to fill in the blanks as much as they could.
“That despite all the vague and ominous cloak and dagger, it’s worth it. This has fulfilled and enlightened me in ways I never expected. I remember being right where you are and how skeptical I was. What I wish my mentor had told me is that this position offers a level of protection to not only yourself but your loved ones as well. Once you’re in, you’re in. This is a lifelong commitment. That means you may miss birthdays or holidays if the occasion arises, but you can rest your head on your pillow every night knowing that they’re safe.”
I looked into the void beneath the hood and aimed my last and final question.
“Why me?”
“Because you see what others don’t. Because, deep inside of you, you know that there is more to the world than you can mentally comprehend or explain. And that terrifies you, because you’ve worked your whole damn life trying to make the world a better place but you haven’t been able to make the kind of impact you desperately want. This,” the figured leaned closer until I felt the dark mist breathe across my face, “is an opportunity for you to do that, to live up to your full potential.”
Just as they finished, a call from the other room summoned us to join them. I glanced around looking for the others that were brought in along with me, but they were nowhere in sight. The figures formed an intimidating v-shape in the center of the room. The figure in front stepped in front of a stone pedestal that was bare except for an old piece of parchment that looked worn and delicate.
Black ink scrawled across in ornate loops and swirls formed the same BCH logo I saw on the cards I had received. Fuck, I should have asked about that. But what really drew my eye were the four glossy blood droplets that adorned the bottom of the page.
The figure in front stepped forward and placed an ornamental dagger on the pedestal that made it glaringly obvious what it was for.
“The time has come for you to make your decision. Do you, Charlotte Alexis DeWitt, wish to undergo the Rites necessary to earn membership into the Ethos Society?”
A shallow breath dragged through my dry lips as I raised my head to take the three steps to the pedestal. I picked up the dagger and turned the jeweled handle in my palm, observing the strange markings that ran down the length of the blade. I poised the tip of the dagger at my fingertip and pressed in, watching the skin break easily and blood welled up on my finger. I gathered some on the blade before turning it face down across the parchment, watching the droplet fall and splash, only to be reabsorbed quickly in the fibers.
“I accept.”
"Wakey, wakey."
The delicious aroma of coffee wafted toward me as I lifted my head. How the fuck did I get back here? I turned my head to see Reed, sitting at the foot of my bed holding a cup of liquid gold out to me.
I scooted my body up as I reached for the cup like a lifeline, taking a huge gulp before resting my head back against the headboard.
"Thanks," I said, my voice coming out thick and still full of sleep.
"You missed our workout this morning so I just wanted to come and check on you. I figured I'd try and wake you before you missed any of your seminars today. It looks like you had a rough night. You alright?" Reed asked, concern coloring his voice.
His words brought back a flood of images from the night before. Was that some kind of fucked up dream, or did that all really happen? I quickly looked to my hands wrapped around the black mug, noticing the small cut on my middle finger. I blew out a long breath before I looked back up at Reed who was watching me closely.
"I'm fine, really. Sorry I missed our workout this morning, I guess I needed the extra sleep." I took another gulp from my cup, desperate to get more caffeine in me so I could function fully. "Thanks for checking on me and waking me up, mountain man."
“As long as you’re okay,” he said, giving my comforter covered leg a squeeze before he rose and headed for the door.
As soon as the door closed I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, heading to the bathroom. The face that greeted me was the same one I’ve seen for almost three decades, except, I felt different.
Not physically, that strange tingling sensation from the night before was long gone. But mentally, mentally I felt drained.
I should have known that signing any document for some secret society that required my fucking blood would have some type of adverse effects. The shadowy representatives last night had hinted that Ethos had tendrils globally, in every branch of government, every business, and every vital piece of pie out there. That was more far reaching than I had accepted that GRAVITAS even had. Ethos had challenged my world view, upsetting my balance.
Using GRAVITAS as a base for their cell? Having access to a vast amount of confidential information world wide while still operating from the shadows? It was smart, insidious even, and I wondered how they dealt with the fine balance of morality.
I still had plenty of questions, but I doubt I’d get anymore answers until I completed the first Rite. Until then, I just needed to focus on excelling at GRAVITAS while keeping my eyes and ears open.
I glanced at the clock and said a silent thank you to Reed for waking me up with enough time to actually take a shower and get ready for a full day of seminars and training. I had to admit, since starting here a few weeks ago, I could already see the improvements. My upper body strength had improved, and while I was still having some issues with the wall on the obstacle course, it was nowhere near as difficult as my first run. The rigorous schedule and repetition were already doing wonders.
Taking a quick shower, I dressed in my black cargos and a pullover, deciding to leave my hair down to air-dry. Grabbing my bag, I headed out my door and saw Reed coming out of his room freshly showered and in his fatigues, his inked sleeve a nice adornment to the all black uniform.
“That’s for you,” he pointed to an insulated travel mug and something wrapped in a paper towel.
“Thanks, mountain man. You’re really too good to me, Ramsey better watch out.” I laughed, grabbing the things and opening the door, gesturing for him to go first.
My psychology seminar, as always, was enlightening, but I found myself getting a bit stir crazy. Now that I had this new path in front of me, I wanted to actively contribute. It had been awhile since I had felt the thrill of the hunt, having someone in front of me and working them over until they told me every single thing I wanted to know.
As I sat down next to G
avin in our foreign language seminar, I debated trying to see how he felt about last night. But then I thought of the way my sponsor couldn’t talk about certain things, and the way Gavin had looked away from me the night before, and decided that it was neither the time nor place for that conversation.
Shifting back to my previous thought, I wondered if there was a way for me to get actively involved with GRAVITAS. I remembered hearing multiple people mention some kind of games, maybe they could take the edge off with some friendly competition. I really needed something that could challenge me mentally, instead of the physical workouts I’ve been doing.
“Hey Gavin, I know you only started last term, but what are these ‘games’ I’ve been hearing about?”
“Ah yes, the infamous GRAVITAS Games, they only do it twice a year. It’s a full two weeks where we go up against each other in a variety of exercises that spread across the board. Think of it as a field exercise with our most dangerous opponents.”
“When’s the next one?” The games could be exactly what I needed.
“They just did one last term when I arrived, so in three months, right after the new year, there should be another one. Think of it as an unofficial ranking of sorts. It’s how they evaluate the strongest candidates in the various fields, and determine who would work well together for future missions. And speaking of missions, I just found out that they’re sending me on my first assignment soon.”
“Did they tell you when or how long?” I knew that this was inevitable, that our lives would be unpredictable with work, but I still felt a pit in my stomach, concern for his safety at the forefront of my mind.
“Within the next week or so is my best guess. I’ll do the preliminary research beforehand, but they did tell me it’s more of a reconnaissance task for my first job. Blending in and picking up as much information as I can.”
“I’d love to see you in the field one day,” I said, imagining how flawlessly he’d be able to blend in with his vast languages and cultural knowledge.
“I’m just glad I’m not going deep undercover right now,” he reached over to thread his fingers through mine, “I know it’s inevitable, but I’m selfishly enjoying spending all the time that I can with you before that happens.”
Just as the agent started the lesson, the door to the room swung open with considerable force. In marched Assistant Director Ridley, his posture rigid with a black duffle slung over his shoulder. His gaze swept the room, before landing on me.
“DeWitt, you’re with me, lets go.” His voice was loud and commanding, leaving no room for anything but complete obedience.
I looked back at Gavin and he squeezed my hand before bending down and grabbing my bag for me.
“Looks like you’re up, beautiful,” he said softly, “Come find me when you get back, please.”
“I will,” I promised, taking my bag and heading down the stairs to meet Ridley in the front of the room.
He bounded out the door at a brisk pace, heading for the stairwell. I had to jog slightly to keep up with him, his longer legs covering more ground. When we reached the top of the stairs he opened the door with the same force as before, quickly ushering me through.
A harsh gust of wind greeted me and I instinctively raised my arm across my face to cut off the onslaught. A sleek black helicopter idled in front of us, two pilots sitting up front with the side door open. Following Ridley, I took his hand when he helped me up into the chopper before sliding to the far seat and buckling in.
As soon as the side door was closed the chopper lifted off and I looked over to Ridley. His face was troubled, a prominent pinch sketched between his brows as one of his hands came up to massage his temples.
Whatever was going on had to be serious, and I had no clue why I was the one he selected. I was sure our occasional runs didn’t mean that much to him. Plus, I was under the distinct impression that unless otherwise specified, new GRAVITAS agents were benched their first term at the facility to make sure they were up to snuff to complete the level of missions they took on. Noticing the headsets attached to the wall, I picked mine up and motioned for Ridley to do the same. There was no way we would have been able to hear each other over the sound of the blades.
"Talk to me Ridley, what's going on? Why am I here?" I asked in a calm voice. I wanted to demand answers immediately but judging by the cues he was throwing off I didn't want to add more fuel to whatever fire was going on.
"Wyatt." His hand was still rubbing his temples, even after he put the headset on. Fuck, this is bad.
"What?" I asked, momentarily confused.
"My name. After today we'll be far past any last name pretenses and I would prefer if you called me Wyatt when it’s just us, or we’re an informal setting."
That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it showed a level of trust and respect that he was offering me something more, a friendship outside of our roles at GRAVITAS.
"Okay Wyatt, why am I here? I doubt its for moral support," I poked at him, seeing if he'd rise to my bait and focus on filling me in on whatever is going on. He rolled his eyes before turning toward me as much as the harness would allow.
"Petrov asked specifically for you. The rest of the interrogators are out on missions right now or are being loaned out. We're spread thin right now, too thin, and she's been at this for the past two days nonstop. It's time-sensitive and she needs a backup, so she asked for you."
His words raced through my brain as I rapidly tried to think of someone named Petrov who would have asked for me. Judging by the context that it was probably a Russian female, my mind went straight to the first person I met when I set foot in GRAVITAS, "Katya?"
"Yes, she was adamant that it should be you for some reason. Care to explain? I don't usually make it a habit of dragging new agents into field scenarios of this calibre so soon."
"I don't know what to tell you Wyatt. We played with each other a little bit when I first arrived but I haven't seen her since," I said with complete transparency.
"Well, it must have impressed her enough that she’s convinced me. I was about to have to pull someone off another mission, which would have wasted valuable time and resources."
"What am I walking into? You know I'll help in whichever way I can." I focused intently and braced myself for whatever was going to happen next.
"Sixty hours ago we intercepted a message from a credible extremist cell whose plan indicated that they would be executing a massive bombing strike with enough charge to obliterate a one mile radius. We immediately sent a strike team to their compound and were able to take two cell members into custody and transfer them to one of our black sites. We have twelve hours left before the charges are supposed to detonate, according to the message we intercepted. They've been worked over constantly and they both still haven't budged. Katya keeps switching between them, but we need to press them both, make at least one of them crack and give us the location so we can prevent this attack."
I took a moment, absorbing the impact of his words. A bomb with that strike zone in a heavily populated area would mean mass casualties. I briefly wondered if this would warrant Ethos's attention. Hell, fucking Ridley could just be using this as a smoke screen to test me. But judging by his tone, and the very real emotions he was exuding, this seemed far from some contrived game.
"Alright, tell me everything you know so far about the two we have."
The next twenty minutes of the flight were spent with Wyatt filing me in on the Priestly brothers who were part of the Earth Liberation Front, an organization focused on preventing further damage to the ecosystem by any means possible. With them involved, the cell would most likely attack at a large organization which they view as most harmful to the ecosystem, like a major energy provider or a corporation with high emissions or lax environmental controls. They'd be looking for maximum impact, meaning a large organization which will result in maximum casualties. The brothers, Nicolas and Jonah, were in their mid-twenties and according to the reports, have
been active in the organization for at least two years.
The chopper touched down on a non-descript two story building and I unbuckled quickly, taking Wyatt's hand down from the chopper, hustling as we made our way toward the door. Before we even reached the door the chopper was already taking off, no doubt not wanting to draw attention to the building more than it already was.
The air in the building smelled slightly stale, whether because it lacked circulation or because it hadn't had much use previously. Following the narrow stairs down, I was greeted by a wide-open area that clearly served as home base for this site. Computers, maps and various documents lined the tables and work area, accompanied by rolling white boards with pictures of whom I assumed were the Priestly brothers.
Wyatt left me standing in the room as I watched him disappear down a hallway. I heard two loud knocks and a door opening and closing before I saw him reappear in the space, this time with Katya.
She looked perfectly polished, not an icy-blonde strand out of place, no doubt wanting to appear confident and collected to the Priestly brothers. But I could tell from the strain in her eyes when she looked at me that the forty-eight hours of constant interrogation without any breaks had been wearing on her.
"DeWitt, you ready to show me more of what you're made of?" she asked, hands on her hips looking me dead in the eyes. We needed to handle this and fast.
"Ridley filled me in on the way here," I nodded to Wyatt, reverting to his surname now that we were in mixed company, "tell me where you're at with the interrogation."
We spent the next fifteen minutes pouring over the more detailed information she had and the different observations she had made about the Priestly brothers.
"So what do you think? Which one do you want?"
"I want to see them first. Mirror or cameras?" I asked as she rose from her chair and led me down the hallway she had come from before.
"We have cameras mounted to record everything, we aren't taking any chances with them." She showed me to a room that had four different monitors, two of which were alternating various shots of the perimeter while the other two stayed focused on the men being contained in the holding rooms.
