Chapter 9

Read from the start here: Chapter One


As promised, here is a draft of the next Chapter in this series. At this point, I am mainly trying to work on completing a basic cut of the whole story before I go back and iron out details and descriptions, so hopefully the completed draft will be a whole lot better and more consistent. Let me know what you think!


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The office bore a faint aroma of wood polish and coffee which made Susan’s stomach turn. The absurdity of what had happened a few minutes ago didn’t numb the shock of how close she had come to a serious injury, and every time that thought came around she felt a clammy shiver spread through her body. She’d been looking for a way to give up caffeine; nothing would beat this.


Focusing on anything she could to take her mind off the nerves, she looked around Crutch’s private quarters from her seat in front of his desk. A shade of blue adorned the walls, which were intriguingly bare, while the shelves held just a few filing boxes, and apart from the chairs around his sparsely covered desk there was no other furniture. Susan wondered if he had planned the look in such a way that nothing could be gleaned from it about him. It was certainly feasible. Amidst the minimalist surroundings, she found herself remembering the last time she had sat here.


It was in fact the only other time she had been in the room with The Trust’s influential leader, and it transpired on her first day three years ago. The surveillance arm of the Government had only recently been established and the office still had that fresh feeling, not yet tainted by the familiar groove and routine of a million footsteps. Every new employee, of which six had started that same day, was given an induction to the company. The morning had consisted of a tour around the entire workplace, starting with the above ground levels which housed the lowest tiered departments such as maintenance and administration, before making their way downwards, checking off Research & Investigation, Data Storage and others. It was merely a formality. A shaking of hands, a rigidly rehearsed welcome and a courteous offer of help should she need anything. It was clear to her then that there would never be a good enough reason to take him up on that offer. He was a man with sparse idle time, certainly none for lower level employees. Even advancing up the ranks in the following two years hadn’t allowed her the privilege to call upon him, but she didn’t take it to heart.


Something about the man sat right with her. During the important meetings she could sense a little emotion behind the confident speeches he gave, some heart and soul which gave the words a weight that kept people listening. She wondered if it came from a loving wife or a proud son or if it was just his nature, but curiously he’d never shared any details about his personal life with anyone. All she knew about him was his work, and that was likely all she would ever know. That might go to explain the lack of personal effects in his environment.


Before she had time to peruse this or distract herself further, she heard the doors behind her open up and quickly she stood up and spun around to face them. First to walk through them was Crutch. He wore the same expression he had when he entered the meeting room earlier, a steely, focused look which gave nothing away. Behind him, looking a little more puffed out in the chest than before was Dougal Smith the army general, who strode into the room assertively, hands behind his back and offering little in the way of friendliness. However, rather more curious than the two VIP’s who came in was who followed them in.


Dressed in dusty red camo-suits and each sporting a high tech helmet under their arms were two people she’d never seen before, one male and one female. The guy had rugged good looks with sharp blue eyes, while the female was slender with smooth brunette hair all tied up in a ponytail. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to suppose these two were with Dougal and therefore had links to the Army, but as far as why they had come here, nothing immediately clicked.


“Good morning Susan.” Lionel croaked as he lowered his stout frame into his desk chair, at the same time beckoning the others to approach his desk and for her to sit down. “Let us dispose of the pleasantries and allow me to get straight to the point.”


Like the Hobian Desert lake beds on Plomin, Susan’s mouth was bone dry. She reached out and picked up the glass of water that had appeared in front of her on the desk, taking a long cool sip. As she did so, Dougal took the seat next to her while the two soldiers stood silently behind them both, with the man uncomfortably close to her.


“Rogan’s reappearance this morning is a primary concern to the safety of Natalos. Whatever brought him back and whatever he’s planning to do, we need to know right away.” Crutch enforced this point by jabbing his finger onto the desk surface, but neither his facial expression nor tone changed. “He’s not going to take it easy. He knows we’ll be on his case immediately. We want to take him out before he is able to launch his own attack and it’s not too speculative to say he will be lusting for a lot of blood. Never before have I seen a man so consumed with hatred with so much power.” He left a distinct pause before continuing. “Before anything goes ahead however, there’s one issue. We need to confirm that Rogan is alive.”


Susan was perplexed. If there was an issue about whether he was still alive, then what was the meeting he had just held been about?


“We’ve analysed all the data we have access to and the conclusion is almost certain, but I’m not willing to progress with any action until I’ve confirmed one hundred per cent that it’s not a trick of some kind.” Came Crutch’s response, likely anticipating Susan’s concerns. “There is no room for error in a case of this significance.”


It didn’t take a particularly smart person to work out where this was leading, and Susan had an intelligence quotient of 164 to quickly get her there.


“So you need me to confirm he’s alive?”


Crutch paused expectedly.


“That is correct.”


“Forgive me sir, but I’m not experienced with any of the surveillance equipment, I’ve only ever been trained to-“


“Susan,” Crutch raised his hand briefly, Susan paused and let him continue. “We’ve analysed everything we can here, that isn’t what I’m asking of you.”


At this point, Susan began to pick up on the smallest inflections in his voice, that there may be something more to this than she thought. “Then... what are you asking of me sir?”


“We need a visual identification.”


“But our coverage doesn’t include Kadira, so how...“


All of a sudden, it dawned on Susan. The room deafened her with its silence, and she could hear her own heart beating a thousand times faster than it had before.


“Sir,” She took a small breath. “Surely you are aware that I don’t have any field experience?”


“I am.” This time the reply came from beside her, from the hulking great leader sat several inches to her left. Dougal Smith may tower over The Trust’s chief, but when it came to who demanded more respect, her money would always be on Crutch. He spoke in a commanding tone, and looked over at Susan from his seat beside her with a smug grin. “Sorry, we are. Mr Crutch has informed me that you are the most suitable candidate despite your lack of practical experience in the field. You’ll have two of my finest agents by your side the whole time to protect you. These are agents Selina and Rashwad.”


The general waved his arm behind him, and the two soldiers raised a single hand each to form a salute, before quickly returning to their former rigid stances.


“They will escort you from just outside Kadira’s capital, right into the heart of his headquarters, where you will make a positive identification, after which they will bring you back out safely.”


Susan couldn’t speak. There were too many questions, issues, illogicality’s to this whole situation and none of them would surface to the point in her brain where she could express them. She forced herself to think clearly, as she had been taught in crisis management training when she first began. First she cleared her mind then she focused on one particular point, directing her question once again to her boss.


“Please sir, would you permit me to ask a few questions?”


“Be quick about it, every second is crucial.” Crutch sat forward, as if expectant to what she was about to say. He probably was, she thought, there must be a solid reason for why she was being asked to do this.


“Ok. My first question; with two qualified agents who can supposedly infiltrate Rogan’s location, why do you feel you need somebody from The Trust to ‘tag along’?”


“I only trust one of my own agents to be able to identify Rogan. This is a highly classified mission, and as such these two agents have agreed to be kept in isolation after the task is complete, until the crisis becomes publicised. That could be days, weeks or months”


At least that made some sort of sense.


“Then I come to the more obvious question. We have at least five former agents in this company who’ve come from military backgrounds, so why have you chosen me above them?”


“You rank above all of them.”


Crutch leaned back, clasping his fingers together and stretching them on the clean surface of his desk.


“But having a higher rank doesn’t translate into doing a better job on the field, sir.” Her response was instant. She already felt like she had answered too aggressively, but there was no going back now. “In fact, what you’re asking of me is something that appears to require a lot of specific skills and tactical knowledge. Surely sending Chapman or Gulliver would be the better option?”


“Susan, there’s more to this than simply a matter of trust or experience. You were chosen because you have a collection of qualities that differ from anybody else in this company, military history or no.”


Having never considered herself particularly stand out amongst her peers, it boggled her to work out what Crutch had meant by this. After quickly mentally checklisting herself against them, she concluded that all of her individual attributes were shared by at least one other employee within the company, perhaps even her department. There really was nothing that came to mind.


“What do you mean by that sir?”


“Let me be clear about this, it is nothing personal. However, when it came to selecting somebody for this mission, we had to be clear about a specific type of individual that we had to send. We had certain criteria.”


“Which are what exactly, sir?”


“Your rank, your trustworthiness and your… family situation”


Susan couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about that fact, but it seemed that it was in truth the only thing about her that mattered to him and to the mission. The only reason she was being asked instead of other stronger, more experienced staff. She had been raised in a children’s home until she was sixteen, and lived independently for the rest of it. She had no family to speak of.


“So it’s a suicide mission.”


“Not at all.” Dougal Smith seized the opportunity to be able to hear his own voice again. “We have no intel that would suggest this is a one way ticket-“


“But you’re not entirely hopeful. Besides, this is the biggest threat to the peace of our nation you’re asking me to investigate in the centre of his domain. Of course it’s a suicide mission!”


“Possibly.” Crutch stopped Dougal before he could say any more. The honesty, while it would have been appreciated much earlier, surprised Susan. “But I’m not sending you because I think you’re likely to come back in a box. I have faith in your skills.”


“But sir, I…”


Susan stopped for a moment. This was an order she was being given by the most senior figure at the agency. There was no way she could refuse it without putting her career and the rest of her working life at risk. However, this was an order to die in possibly the most insane way possible, doesn’t she deserve to feel safe and secure especially as this wasn’t a part of her job description? And then she remembered back to her very first day, and in particular the moment of signing all the paperwork. An image flashed up to the front, one sheet of paper, marked with a very distinct picture of a skull and crossbones. The one that gave her employer the right to ask her to do very dangerous things if there was good enough reason to ask it of her, say for example, the safety of the universe they lived in and worked for. Then she remembered writing her signature on the bottom line. Game over.


In a way, she knew this day would come, it felt like a destiny. She just hadn’t expected it so soon, without any warning to speak of. Unless of course you counted half an hour as a warning. Susan sighed. She straightened herself up in her seat and looked straight ahead at Lionel, who hadn’t said a word since she tried to object. Maybe he knew what she was thinking? It wouldn’t have surprised her, but either way she knew she had to do this. Besides, what was the point of doing this work if she wasn’t prepared to put her life on the line to defend others? Wasn’t that the whole point of it?


“Ok sir. I’m ready.”


Crutch gave off the slightest indication of his satisfaction with her decision, with a tiny, almost unnoticeable crinkling of his eyes and the corners of his cracked lips curling upwards. Dougal didn’t hide his so well, grinning like a man who’d just gotten himself a bargain.


“What do I have to do?”


Next Chapter: CHAPTER TEN