C.J.

 

Monday January 13 - 1423 MST

Two days until Turbocharger activates

 

The silence in my headphones was brutality. I knew it was the right decision to leave the radio off so I could eavesdrop on the conversation going on behind me. Colonel Sterling needed the vital intel I was collecting in the CTOC. But at this very moment I wished for a wave of radio chatter to wash out what I was hearing. It was true that ignorance was blissful because some conversations you just didn't want to overhear.

"We need to move up the assault on the real Delta site" Rofocales had said to General Basser.

Lucius Rofocales was the chief of the Praetorian mercenaries that had taken over most of the CTTC's security after the General assumed command. Why he was telling an Air Force general what to do was well above my grade.

Senator Carver kept his voice low but they were standing right behind me and I could hear them all. It was an unfortunate side effect of sitting at the Ops Manager desk, I was always right where the General and his entourage liked to talk shop. "He's usually right about these things, Doug. Keep in mind Lucius has been involved in exotic activities for quite some time."

It was sickening to see a US Senator be such a drooling sycophant over someone. The roles should have been reversed. But Rofocales had some kind of pull on both the Senator and the General. I wouldn't call it charisma, but something deeper. It left me wondering if he was blackmailing them somehow. All I knew was that a creepy feeling always came over me whenever he looked my way. Thankfully, he regarded me like a piece of furniture and didn't look at me much.

General Basser mulled it over a moment before answering. "Why is it so important we move up the date? I thought our priority was completing Turbocharger first."

"It still is, General." Rofocales answered. "But after Turbocharger they might not be so amenable to the idea."

And that was the moment I wished I never listened in to their whispered conversation. The way his tone changed when he said "they" sent the iciest pang of fear down into my stomach. It was the tone you used when talking about someone you answered to. And not just your supervisor, but someone really high up. Like the Secretary of Defense. Only this was the mercenary Rofocales talking. He didn't answer to the White House, Pentagon, or the people. Just to the almighty dollar. Or maybe something much worse.

A hand gently touched my shoulder and I jumped.

It was General Basser and he was looking at me apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you, C.J. But could you send a message out to all Delta site participants? I need you to let them know we're moving up the real world mission to tomorrow night. I want everyone in the briefing by fourteen hundred."

I scribbled that down in my notes. "Yes, sir. Fourteen hundred. I'll let everyone know."

"Oh and one more thing. Mister Rofocales has an updated security shift schedule. Can you get it sent out to everyone, please?"

I swallowed hard because I knew that meant I would have to interact with his creepy mercenary. "Yes, sir."

Rofocales stood over my desk glaring at me like I was an unwanted family dog getting in the way. "We're expanding Praetorian's foot print. My men will be taking over the remaining security duties in the Underground. Here are the details."

A strange wave of emotions washed over me as I made eye contact with those dark eyes of his. It was one part cold fear and one part desire. At the same time I wanted to run away from and please him. Growing up in a strict household with brothers that went on to be successful doctors and lawyers I always found myself giving deference to men in expensive suits. But this was something else. I'm not sure how to describe it, but there was more here than presence of personality.

I took the roster from him and turned my gaze back to the computer screen. Anything was better than those enigmatic eyes of his. "Yes, sir."

True to his word his Praetorian troops filled up every last slot on tomorrow's duty roster. Everything from the front gate to the corridor monitors and even C-Watch. C-Watch had been the last bastion of Air Force security teams. When the Praetorians had first come on board General Basser had promised C-Watch would always be blue suit military. Like a lot of his other promises, it looked like this one had also been compromised by Lucius Rofocales's baffling influence.

The door to the CTOC opened up then and the Delta Site assault team came in. They were fresh off the flightline and a few were still in their cold weather gear. They looked exhausted after their long flight out to the Delta Site. I imagined they were getting pretty tired of doing the same drill every day for weeks. All except for the three everyone was calling Primes. They looked full of life.

The two men towered above the rest and their shoulders were so wide I had trouble believing they belonged to human beings. It still amazed me how much muscle they had on their large frames. And you could see every last one in those odd space suits they wore. The parts that weren't covered with armor plating clung to every last sinew and bulging vein.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but it was the last Prime that held my attention. It made me jealous to see how well she filled out her own space suit. I'm far too skinny to wear something like that and wished that whatever miracle that hit her would make me look as perfect. I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to.

Not that I would ever expect to have one of those suits. They were custom made and cost the government close to a million dollars each. Only a Prime was deemed worthy of such expense.

General Basser cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Folks, I have good and bad news for you. Good news first. This is the last Delta Site drill you'll ever have to do. You've all done outstanding work and have this mission perfected. Pat yourselves on the back for a job well done. Bad news is the real world Delta Site mission has been moved up to tomorrow. We need to get it done before Turbocharger. So I want you all to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow is our big day."

The enormity of our plight hit me then. It was all too much to be coincidence. Tonight when I made contact with Colonel Sterling I would have to let him know. A complete takeover by Praetorians, a shift in the Delta raid schedule, and the strange way they talked about Turbocharger. It all had the evil aura of something very wrong.

And if I was being completely honest, it had me scared out of my mind.