The ten members of Ray's Unit were led by a man dressed entirely in white down a dark tunnel toward a white door. The members of the unit glanced at one another as they moved deeper into the tunnel, the looks they shared illuminated by the only light available—a narrow strip of fluorescent light overhead.
All of them had heard of the lab, as being in this elite unit allowed them access to privileged information. Due to the team's status and responsibility, each member was entitled to information withheld from other select groups in the military.
They were known simply as the Unit, or Unit 10. Their unit did not have a prestigious name like Delta Force or Navy SEALs, although most members came from those parts of the military. The members assembled when missions had to be completed overseas and kept American civilians safe from threats most people weren’t even aware existed. Civilians did not want to know about some of these dangers— unless they never wanted to sleep peacefully again.
And now here they were, hidden in the woods of upstate New York. The military lab's rumored projects ranged from a better military boot to body armor that transformed soldiers into walking tanks. There were even whispers of invisibility.
Campfire stories. Military lore told by out-of-the-loop military men and women with a few fragments of real knowledge about the place.
Each member in the Unit had no idea which of the rumored projects actually existed. Yet they had all benefited. The Unit got the new stuff to try out first, though some could argue that they were all just military test dummies.
After being led into a large room, the members of the Unit sat silently on benches attached to long tables, like the ones in high school cafeterias. Everything was sparkling white.
A door opened, and a man walked in, coming to a stop in front of the tables. He was solid, with broad shoulders his black suit could not conceal. Since being reassigned to supervise the Genesis lab, the high-ranking officer was told not to dress in uniform. His blond hair was trimmed short on top and razor-close around the ears and neck. Formidable. But his eyes were inviting, understanding, warm.
As Colonel John Adams looked over the operators in front of him, another man in his early thirties, dressed in a white shirt and khakis, walked into the room followed by Ray, who stood and waited near the door. The man in the white shirt and khakis joined the colonel in front of the tables. Will Stevens, with his hair neatly parted to the side and clothes pressed to perfection, glanced slowly over the Unit in front of him, but not in the same way that the colonel had looked over the group. Will was the man in charge of the Genesis lab and could not hide the look of displeasure on his face.
These were the ones chosen from the best the military had to offer? He was angry to begin with that these operators had special access to information and projects at the lab without his approval. He did not see the men and women gathered in front of him as being close to his intelligence, and they were therefore not worthy of what he had to offer. They were grunts.
How fast things can change. All because of a few projects and their potential. Just a year before, there was only an occasional visit by military hierarchy, mainly to tell him what a great job he was doing here with the scientists he supervised.
He was no longer fully in charge of the facility. He did have his say, although not like before. Once the colonel—who had just the slightest background in science—arrived, the way the lab had been run previously was over. Admittedly, though, they still very much needed him with the new projects. The colonel himself told him to keep pushing the scientists like he always did to achieve their best. He would always be needed to run the facility and oversee the scientists.
It could never fully become the colonel's lab; the man was just not smart enough. Maybe one day there would be an accident at the lab. Maybe one day, the colonel would—
Colonel Adams placed a hand on Will's shoulder.
"You okay there, Will?"
Caught up in his thoughts, Will shook his head as if he had not heard the colonel when he very well had.
"Sorry, sir, what did you say?"
"Are you okay? You look like you're upset or something."
"I am sorry to appear that way. I hope my normal appearance has not offended the talented men and women before me now in any way."
The colonel nodded at Will to follow him, and the two walked out of earshot of the Unit. Colonel Adams was close to ripping into the little prick for his retort with undertones of feeling judged by his physical appearance, when it was Will who had been looking over the Unit as if they were some sort of biological waste. The colonel decided to let it go for now. The two would have a more in-depth conversation later.
"Do me a favor, Will. Try to present yourself in a more positive way than you are doing right now. Okay?"
Colonel Adams got a glimpse of the flat-out contempt in Will's eyes—just a flash—and then it was gone.
"Of course, sir."
The colonel turned and walked away.
That's when Will saw the man from the corner of his eye; he had forgotten about the leader of this elite-of-the-elite special forces unit. Will turned his head slightly and could see the man was not as far behind him as he had thought. Ray Catlin was his name. He knew that much about him—and not much more.
Ray Catlin was looking at Will with a slight smirk that said, I saw how you looked at them, asshole.
Will's stomach let out a sound he hoped only he could hear. A churning in his stomach, his breakfast wanting to be released through one end or the other. Will turned away from Catlin's glare and was able to somewhat suppress the ill feeling he felt. He rushed back toward the Unit as if pleased they were all there.
"Hello, my name is Will Stevens. I run this facility. A facility built with you in mind. I hope the projects we have developed here can aid you in your job to protect us all."
With a quick look over his shoulder, Will could see the colonel and Ray now close together, taking in his upbeat speech to the troops.
The colonel motioned for Will to move to the side so he could take over. As Will stepped away, the colonel and Ray walked over to the tables and stood in front of the Unit. The members of the Unit became divided in their attention. Half faced the colonel and Ray; the other half had their heads tilted toward the man named Will. When the colonel began to speak, they all gave him their full attention.
"You've been gathered together again because of an intended strike to the homeland. Two separate UAVs have captured evidence of a new extremist group in Afghanistan that has been moving what we have been told are, and what appear to be, disassembled surface-to-surface missiles they designed all on their own. Four to six is the number we are getting. Insurgents, recruited to look like your average middle-class Americans, are waiting in the mountains surrounding Kabul and will be the ones smuggling the missiles out somehow. Their plan is to position the missiles within range of US seaports and to attack, showing the world just how vulnerable the nation is. How they intend to maneuver and then launch the missiles is all a mystery. But as of now, the first part of their plan is underway."
The colonel regarded the men and women taking on this mission with the look of a man willing to protect his family at any cost—his family being the citizens of America.
"They have just settled at a new location. The weapons are moved every three weeks like clockwork. You will stop the further transport of the missiles by any means—no quarter for those involved. One of the men traveling with the missiles is believed to be the designer. EOD will take the missiles off your hands, and we'll see what this asshole actually created. The rest of the op will be finding the group waiting on the missiles. Alive if possible. We need to find out exactly how they intended to infiltrate the country by sea and how they planned to launch the SSMs."
Another man entered the room, a white lab coat draped over his thin frame. He appeared upon first impression to be skeletal, weak. However, once he took two steps toward the Unit, his face and body came to life with an explosion of anxious, almost giddy emotions he’d been trying to hold back. A few in the Unit almost laughed out loud at how this guy from the lab seemed so genuinely happy to see them. He sure wasn't like the other dick named Will—that much was clear to the Unit.
The man in the white coat started to reach out to shake hands with the members of the Unit but then quickly stopped. He turned and walked over to Colonel Adams, trying to take on a professional appearance while standing beside the colonel. However, to the Unit, he still seemed giddy as a gamer alone inside a testing room with his favorite console, a stack of unknown new games to test, and a cheese pizza on the way.
The colonel introduced the man.
"Unit 10, meet Rydel Scott. He is the top scientist here at Genesis. In the last three years, he has been the one who has significantly improved the gear that keeps all of you safe."
Rydel looked eagerly at Colonel Adams. The colonel smiled and nodded toward the Unit. Rydel tried to restrain the spring in his step while making his way toward the men and women he so obviously wanted to converse with from the moment he stepped into the room. He stood at the head of the table and let it all come out in a sort of controlled blabbering.
"So…so, how are the new sunglasses and the foot warmers in the cold? How about the I-C helmets—do they meet your standards?"
The operators nodded at Rydel and then turned their attention to Ray, standing off to the side, all saying with their eyes: Um…what the heck is up with this super-excited guy, Ray?
Rydel caught their reaction and met the eyes of the colonel, wanting to know if he should continue with his questions.
"Go on, Rydel. Talk to them."
Rydel moved closer, quickly glancing over the men and women. "How is the skin armor I designed working in the field?" Rydel asked. "Is it too hot? I'm working on that."
Ben, dark skin, hazel eyes—and, although he was seated, you could tell he was an extremely tall man—looked at the men and women around the table, their faces softening toward this scientist trying so hard to impress. Ben turned to Rydel and answered for the group.
"They're a little warm. It's all good. Sal over there"—Ben pointed his thumb at Sal behind him (a thick-bodied guy with longish hair reaching his eyebrows)—"yeah, he took a bullet from a distance that got under the side of his vest. A couple of stitches and he was good to go."
Sal pointed at Rydel. "You invented that? You're a brilliant motherfucker. Thanks, Doc."
"You're welcome," Rydel said, his now soft voice just loud enough to be heard. Rydel's eyes drifted down toward the white floor below him. He was quick to compliment others; however, he was not a man able to receive praise himself, something everyone in the room noticed. After a brief moment, Rydel got that excited look on his face once more and continued.
"I have other projects to protect all of you. Colonel Adams tells me you need my best work here at Genesis for your upcoming mission." Rydel folded his arms across his chest to exude confidence. "I will not disappoint."
__
Two days later, Rydel, Ray, and the members of Ray's Unit stood over a white table inside a white room. On the table, wrapped around a clear plastic stand, an almost transparent, paper-thin-looking balaclava stared up at the group. A tint of blue pulsed randomly through the mask's pinholed, mesh-like material (the mask had no eyeholes or back to it; only the neck wrapped entirely around). No one in the Unit, including Ray, could take their eyes off the odd-looking thing. Rydel's eyes sparkled—he had their attention.
"You want to blend in during the day on your next mission—this will do it. Put one of these masks on, and you will be just like them," Rydel stated.
Out of all in the Unit, Carrie, a slim woman with spiked red hair and sleeve tattoos covering both arms, was the only one able to take her attention away from the pulsing blue mask. "How is that? How will we be just like them?" she asked, staring at Rydel.
With an eager-to-explain look on his face, Rydel continued. "Stealth Imaging. Once you put on this blue-tinted mask, we can alter your appearance from here so that you look like any man or woman in Afghanistan—you can change your appearance multiple times, if need be. We can change your eyes, nose, and skin tone at any time. Dress like the locals to cover your body, and we will do the rest."
Ray finally pulled his attention away from the mask on the table.
"Well, that would be amazing. And something I would really like to see a demonstration of beforehand," Ray said to Rydel with a little skepticism in his voice.
"I can demonstrate Stealth Imaging today, if you would like, sir."
Ray turned to face his second in command, Todd. Having just turned thirty, Todd's full face and shaved head were incongruous with his lean, gangly body. He raised his left eyebrow at Ray, impressed with the scientist, very much wanting to see a demonstration. Ray returned his attention to Rydel.
"Call me Ray, Rydel. We've been going over your projects here all day. Everyone in my Unit calls me Ray; you can do the same."
"Okay, Ray."
Janice, a big, broad woman with full features, patted Rydel on the chest. "Pretty fucking cool, man. If it works."
"It works," Rydel said confidently.
Next to Janice, Adriana smiled, her rolled-up sleeves reaching biceps as chiseled as the rest of her body. "Amazing," Adriana said softly to Rydel.
Four Unit members across the table from Adriana shared the same look; they were unimpressed. Martinez, a stocky Mexican dubbed "Talker" because he barely had more than two words to say during a conversation, just shook his head and turned to Jack. Jack, a man who could pass for actor Edward Norton in his late twenties, whispered something to Kevin, a medium-sized operator with a thin face and premature gray tinting his cropped hair. Kevin shook his head and looked at Steve. Steve looked like a banker dressed in black military fatigues. He had a smirk on his face and seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh.
Not having the same feelings as the four doubters in the Unit, Sal walked over and put a hand on Rydel's shoulder.
"I love you, Doctor G."
"Doctor G? No, my last name is Scott, Sal."
"No, you are Doctor G. You own this Genesis lab. Look at what you invented for us. I love you."
Rydel's eyes stopped blinking, and his body stiffened, not sure how to react to Sal's sudden feelings toward him.
"I really don't know how to respond, Sal. We've known each other for a couple of days. And I do like you very much, but—"
Sal put up his right hand for Rydel to stop talking. "You don't have to love me, G. Just know that I love you. I'm good with that."
"Okay, Sal. Thank you."
Rydel looked over the rest of the Unit staring at him.
"I have other projects that could be beneficial to your next mission." Rydel looked at his watch. "But right now, Mr. Stevens would like to see all of you again about one of his projects."
__
In another stark white room at the lab, Ray and the members of his Unit stood before Will Stevens, who was seated behind a white table. He sat at the table without speaking for a good three minutes, working on a laptop (white as well) in front of him. He looked up from the computer.
"So, no problems with your new Smartround weapons on your last mission out, correct?" Will asked.
Ray and the members of his Unit shook their heads.
"No, I didn't think so. Soon…a Smartround rifle will have backup capabilities if you run out of rounds. Solar-powered rounds. However, that is a novelty for another day."
Will stood up from the table, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the group with his hands folded together in front of him. "All of you have been fitted for a translator and received them this morning. Please put them on now like I showed you."
Ray and his team reached inside their cargo pants pockets and pulled out what appeared to be an oxygen mask with a black round speaker affixed to the front of it. The operators put them on, the masks covering their faces from nose to chin. On either side of the translator was a short hose with a round earbud at the end. Each earbud had a slit up the middle. The black hoses with the earbuds reached their ears with a little slack at each side. Ray and the others squeezed the two halves of the earbuds together on their earlobes, attaching them magnetically. As one, they tapped a button on the side of their translators to turn them on.
Will examined Ray and the members of the Unit, taking his time with his prized project. He returned to the white table and sat down. Will leaned forward, facing Ray, and then briefly looked at each Unit member.
"Three thousand years’ worth of spoken language has been stored in your translators. Wherever your missions take you in the world, you will understand the language and be able to speak it as well. When you activate your translator, whatever foreign language it detects before you will unscramble and be understood through your receiver buds. Yes, if there are multiple people speaking in different languages, it might become confusing. Get close to the person or persons of interest and the translation will be clear. It will take a moment for the words you speak to translate. And your words will not overlap, if that is what all of you are thinking right now. Once the translator is in place, only your recorded simulated voice can be heard. If you want to communicate in English, simply turn the translator off or remove it from your mouth and clasp the buds around your neck. I will test them now."
Will chose one of the many languages he was fluent in that he knew Ray and the Unit would not understand. Speaking in French: "Are any in this Unit, including its commander, frightened about their next mission in any way? Don't lie."
It took a moment for what Will had said to translate to Ray and the others and for them to understand. And when the translation came through, the members of the Unit glanced at Ray, looking a little pissed off. With the difficult missions they were assigned to complete, look at this pompous prick in front of them now.
With their translators ready to respond to Will's question, Ray nodded at Todd to answer for both himself and the Unit. Ray was the commander. But to think no one else had a say in this elite group of men and women gathered together would be as stupid as this dumbass with his stupid-ass questions.
All have a say.
Todd took three quick strides and stood before Will. Will looked past him at Ray, puzzled, expecting Ray to answer for the Unit. Todd waved a hand in front of Will's face to get his attention. The response coming from Todd in French was delayed. You could tell that he was talking by the movement at each side of his face and throat. When the words came out, his voice sounded like a computer—understandable, but definitely off-key. It worked, but it sounded like shit.
"The answer to your question," Todd said to Will, "is yes. There is fear with every mission out; we are human. We would all be lying if we said no. You, however, get to stay here in this lab and monitor the mission. And that's what gives you the balls to ask such a question. Doesn't it, Mr. Stevens?"
Todd's response translated back to Ray and the others after a few seconds, and they removed their translators, a murmuring laugh coming from most Unit members.
Satisfied, Will stood up from the table and walked toward the door to the room. "Functioning well."
All were quiet, listening to Will's footfalls outside the room fading away. Jack then said aloud how they felt about the man.
"'Functioning well.' What a dick."
__
The next day at the Genesis lab, Rydel stood smiling in front of Ray and the Unit seated around another white table the lab furnished proudly inside yet another nondescript white room.
Rydel stuck out a finger on his right hand.
"What is on the tip of my finger can save lives in the field."
Ray looked over the men and women in his command and then turned back to Rydel.
"That would be great. But you do understand you're giving us the finger right now, don't you?"
Rydel looked down at the tiny chip on the tip of his middle finger. "Oh, yes, I am. That's not the way I planned this out. Sorry." Rydel carefully slid the chip over to his forefinger using the middle finger on his other hand. And then the words poured out of him.
"If a bullet from a point-blank shot gets through your skin armor or you are wounded by an explosive, this chip I'm holding, once implanted, will put a soldier's body on ice until medical help can be reached."
Rydel stepped closer to Ray at the head of the table. "This chip will save soldiers’ lives."
Ray looked at Rydel's finger with the chip, not sure what to make of it and definitely not sure if he wanted it implanted inside him after all that Rydel had rambled on about so damn quickly. He got most of what Rydel was talking about from his mile-a-minute mouth. But the man needed to articulate a little bit better before Ray would let this chip be put inside him—or inside anyone in his Unit.
"Yeah…Rydel, you are going to have to explain a little more and speak a bit more slowly before I—or any member of my Unit—have this chip implanted in us."
Rydel reached for a small black box in his lab coat pocket and placed the chip inside. He held up his hands and slowly lowered them in a gesture of understanding, knowing that he needed to slow it down.
"I know, I know. I get excited about the projects I've developed here to keep soldiers like you and the members of your Unit safe."
"You are doing great things here, Rydel," Ray acknowledged. "We all know that. Just slow it down a little, and give us a little more background on this chip you are talking about."
"Shutdown," Rydel calmly said. "Once implanted, the chip inside will monitor a soldier's body. In the event of a near-fatal wound, the chip will slow down all vital organs. The chip, in a way, will put a dying soldier's body on ice until he or she can be evacuated to a field hospital."
With the calm and confident way Rydel spoke, Ray and the Unit waited patiently to hear more. They had all seen what Rydel was talking about in the field too many times. However, Rydel was finished explaining.
"You invented this for us?" Ben asked.
"Yes. That's the bulk of my work here. What I am best at. Trying to protect soldiers any way I can."
There were no more questions from Ray or the others.
__
Later, Ray and his Unit sat at a table eating lunch in one of the two cafeterias located inside the lab that was, yes, white from floor to ceiling.
Janice swiveled her head left and right, taking in the spotless cafeteria.
"We should have a food fight and see if the table and walls actually do get stained—or will the stains just dissolve and go away from one of the freak-ass projects they have here?"
"Mind if I join you?"
Ray and the members of his Unit turned to see Rydel holding a tray of food near the far end of the cafeteria, standing in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter.
"Sit your ass down, Doc!" Sal yelled.
Rydel waited to make sure Ray and the rest agreed with Sal's gregarious invitation, and Ray waved Rydel over. Sal slid over to make room at the table, and Rydel sat next to Sal silently for a few seconds before looking at Ben seated across from him.
"Ben…Ben Howard, right?"
Ben looked up from his meatloaf lunch, staring at Rydel. "That's me."
"I just found out your dad, Jacob, trained in special ops out of Maryland with my dad. They would fish together sometimes on leave when I was a kid."
"Yeah, well, maybe they're fishing together now in their retirement. I haven't spoken to the old man in a long time."
"No. My father died in combat while I was in college. I enlisted after that. I was sent here because of my science background."
Ben, along with Ray and the others, fixed their eyes on Rydel. Rydel looked down at his food, pushing around the cornbread and the meatloaf on his plate, realizing everyone at the table was now staring at him. He wanted to stare down at his food until they looked away. This was too much attention coming from all of them at once when not talking about one of his projects. However, to crawl back into a shell around these men and women would be so disrespectful to his father. His father deserved more, deserved to be remembered. Rydel wanted them to know what kind of man his father was. A man not as sought out for such missions and regarded like Ray and the members of his Unit, but a great man.
"He was a wonderful father, a great soldier, protecting Americans and others around the world. I was lucky to have him in my life for nineteen years."
Rydel took two small bites of the meal in front of him and pushed the plate away.
"The food is not very good here at the cafeteria, as you can tell. Can I interest all of you in a well-cooked meal for dinner later this evening?
"Dinner it is, G," Sal shouted, accepting Rydel's invite for himself, Ray, and the others.
__
In a breezy green meadow, the tip of the sun began to slip behind towering trees in the distance while Ray and his Unit followed Rydel. Rydel walked them down a dirt path with knee-high grass at either side. The dirt path led toward a forest, the approaching treetops ahead tinged blood-orange by the sunset. Ray and the others continued to follow Rydel into the forest, disappearing into darkness. The fading sunlight barely filtered through the overhead leaf-thick tree branches, the scent of the forest growing stronger as the group walked on. They made their way out of the other side of the forest five minutes later. In front of them was a row of outdoor benches and tables surrounded by a landscaped meadow. Above the benches and tables, a canopy supported by white metal beams stretched one hundred feet across. The large canopy puffed up and down in the wind as if taking in and letting out a calming breath.
Trees circled the entire meadow, giving the area a feeling of an island paradise just being discovered after stepping out from the forest. The benches and tables were sparkling white. Centered about twenty feet away from the canopy was a red brick-faced fire pit reaching ten feet across. Two large white refrigerators were sunk into the brick pit at either side. The refrigerators and the unlit lights inside the canopy were powered by a white shed covered in solar panels in the distance. Having led Ray and his Unit to this hidden sanctuary, Rydel turned around to face them all before he reached the benches.
"This is one of the getaways for the workers to unwind when we have the time. Nice, isn't it?" Rydel asked Ray and the others.
Ray and the rest all shared the same opinion: it was awesome—a beautiful, tranquil place. Sal got a look at the fire pit and pointed at it. "Holy shit, look—something not sparkling white that the people here are so anal about. Look everybody—it's the color red!"
Rydel glanced toward the fire pit behind him and turned back to Sal. "Yes, we are a little anal about our cleanliness here. Aren't we, Sal?"
"Just a little."
"The refrigerators are full of beers, burgers, chicken breasts, steaks, and other refreshments. I grill a mean steak if anyone is interested," Rydel was proud to say.
"Well, Doctor G, I drink a mean beer," Sal was proud to divulge as well. "So let's get things started. Light up that big red fucker."
__
Night had fallen. Plates with nothing but bones from T-bone steaks lined the long bench behind Rydel, Ray, and the members of the Unit. All had a beer in hand as they stared at the flames blazing in the pit. Everyone took in the fire for a few minutes without speaking, and then Kevin was the first to start a conversation.
“Rydel, when do you get to leave this place?"
Rydel slightly shrugged at Kevin seated near the end of the bench. "Leaving is not really an option for me anymore with the projects going on here. I have a room that they set up for me. I'm the only permanent resident. Some of the other scientists stay here during the week and fly out to their families on the weekends."
Seated next to Kevin, Janice craned her head around him to get a look at Rydel. "So you never get to leave this place?" Janice asked with a little beer buzz in her voice.
Rydel smiled down at Janice. "On occasion I get time."
Sitting beside Rydel, Carrie leaned in closer. "So I'm guessing you're not married?"
Rydel shook his head.
Janice belched, letting out the aroma of the two T-bone steaks she took down, and then shouted to Rydel from the other end of the bench. "Got a girlfriend here, Rydel?"
Rydel shook his head again. Ray and a few of the others in the Unit could see Rydel was beginning to become embarrassed by the questions. Ray was about to change the subject but wasn't quick enough, as Carrie let out the first thing that came to her mind.
"So, what…do they bring in a girl for you or something? You gotta be, like, seriously horned up."
The comment from Carrie lowered Rydel's head and seemed to put him in a silky-spun cocoon, not responding in any way to Carrie's inquiry.
Steve stood up from the table to get another beer and tried to take some of the attention away from Rydel, seeing that the man was humiliated.
"Wow, real class act there, Carrie. We all go out on long missions. We all cope. Well, except for you, I guess. Like when Sal and I caught you humping your hand in your tent after only three days out last year in Afghanistan."
Carrie gave Steve the finger and looked back at Rydel. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend you there, Rydel. But, shit, he's right. I did get all worked up after only three days out that time because I hadn't seen my boyfriend in, like, two weeks. I can't imagine what you're going through, man."
An embarrassing situation started to become worse for Rydel. He tried to reply to Carrie but couldn't. His words got caught in his throat; he was too embarrassed to speak. So Ray stood up from the bench.
"Carrie." Ray's voice was flat and direct as he spoke her name.
Carrie shot up out of her seat at the sound of her name—and because of the way Ray had spoken to her, like it was an order.
"Yes, Ray?"
"Go get another beer."
Carrie walked toward the refrigerators to get a beer without saying another word. With Carrie and her to-the-point conversation out of the way, Adriana stood up from the table and took a seat next to Rydel.
"They do let you out of here, though, don't they?"
"I go out sometimes. It's not like they're keeping me behind bars."
"Got family?" Adriana asked Rydel.
Rydel gave Adriana a thankful smile for her questions, which seemed to be going in a different direction, even if the last question she had just asked opened another topic he was uncomfortable talking about. One not embarrassing, but painful.
"My mother passed away two years ago," Rydel said bluntly and stopped talking. After a few seconds, he straightened up into a proud posture. "I have a sister. She took the path of religion. She is a nun. A beautiful soul."
Carrie made her way back with a beer in her hand, but then she stopped and turned around, walking toward the surrounding forest. "Oh shit, a nun? Guess I'm going to hell for the horned-up remark I made to you, Doc. I'm gonna take a piss in the woods."
"There are lavatories to your left, just up ahead," Rydel yelled out to Carrie.
Carrie held up a hand as she continued to walk away. "No, that's okay, Doc. I just need to pee, not shit." Carrie slipped through the trees in front of her and was gone. Rydel was shocked and amused by Carrie's frankness. He wanted very much to know all about these men and women. However, his social skills were lacking when it came to a person like Carrie saying exactly what she was feeling. People were like that on the outside, but not at the lab. Nobody associated with the lab really spoke about how they felt. All waited before answering a question, choosing their words carefully.
Ray noticed Rydel lost in his thoughts, staring blankly at where Carrie had been before she disappeared into the woods.
"Yeah, Carrie just says it like it is, Rydel. She may cross the line a couple of times, but you’ll always know where you stand with her."
Rydel slowly turned his head toward Ray.
"Sorry. I must seem kind of out there to you guys," Rydel said, his eyes on Ray before glancing at the others. "I think the way she says what's on her mind is fantastic. It's just not like that here. Sorry."
"No reason to be sorry, Rydel," Ray said.
"I don't get out that much…as I'm sure you can all tell."
Ray stood and grabbed a split oak log, placed it on top of the fire, and sat back down. It was quiet, only the sounds of crackling wood burning in the fire pit and birds singing their last songs to the night could be heard over a soft breeze rippling along the canopy. Adriana then asked Rydel another question.
"What age did your sister take the vow?"
The question by Adriana seemed to strip away some of the shyness Rydel had when talking about himself.
"Seventeen," Rydel said. "Right after she graduated high school. She just knew."
"That's awesome, Rydel."
"I think so. Every Christmas Eve I visit her in New York City."
All were quiet again, taking in the fire Ray had built up. Martinez stretched his arms toward the sky and looked over at Rydel.
"Anything else to do around here for fun, Rydel?" Martinez asked.
"Yes. With the seclusion and the time away from the outside world, we do have other amenities to help us unwind. There's a basketball court, gym, and three hot tubs located on two levels inside the lab that all of you haven't seen yet."
"Let's go, then," Martinez said, standing up.
Rydel flashed one of his eager-to-please smiles at Martinez. "There's also a fully stocked bar and a pool table."
All in the Unit cheered, ready to seek out the two-level super rec room that Rydel was talking about with a fully stocked bar. All were ready to let go for a little while, as high-fives and fist bumps were shared with one another.
Todd noticed Ray seated stoically, staring at them all. A ripple effect went through the rest of the Unit so fast that the sound of them celebrating cutting loose for a night turned into a moment of silence. Unaware of what was going on around him, Rydel continued to celebrate by himself, with his awkward little fist-pumps pumping in the air.
The abrupt quietness by the rest soon confused Rydel. He looked over the faces of the men and women around him and finally turned his attention toward Ray sitting alone. Ray leaned back, stared at the stars above, and spoke to the members of his Unit.
"We'll enjoy tonight. But tomorrow we start to prep. We are leaving Thursday."
__
Two days later, Rydel entered one of the rooms at the lab that was not white from wall-to-wall to show off its cleanliness—something Will was oh-so adamant about when it came to the lab's appearance. The room had tan walls, a brown floor, and three black tables.
Ray and the members of the Unit stood at the tables, packing their new gear provided by Genesis into black military bags. They all noticed Rydel enter the room and gave him only slight nods.
They were different now. Rydel was almost afraid…it was as if he meant nothing to them after the time they had shared at the lab. He was hurt. He came to wish them all the best. Maybe reminisce with a story or two about their time together, like the fire-pit steaks or playing pool later that night. Rydel flashed back in his mind to Sal singing into his ear the theme song from The Jeffersons for some strange reason, trying to make him miss on the eight ball.
Sal's singing had only made him concentrate that much more, sending the winning ball across the pool table on its way to victory…right-side pocket. Rydel found it funny as hell later recalling Sal singing in a whisper into his ear: Now we're up in the big leagues.
Sal was generations removed from the show, just as Rydel was; however, both had connected with the show through reruns.
Rydel felt he had a bit of a connection with them all (more so with Sal and Ray). But maybe I’m wrong, Rydel thought as he stood in front of Ray and the others. They seemed distant, almost bothered by him being there.
"Sorry to just walk in like this. I—I…I just wanted to say good-bye and good luck. The time we've had here…I feel very close to all of you."
Unresponsive, Ray and the Unit continued to ready themselves for their next mission without even a glance at Rydel. And then it hit Rydel: no matter what kind of friendship he thought he had forged with these people, he should not overstep the line. He was intruding.
Rydel shook his head and turned away, his eyes focused on the floor, knowing he had made a mistake by coming here to wish them all a safe mission. At the door, Adriana and Todd stood guard, making it so Rydel couldn't leave the room. How the heck did they get there so fast without making a sound, Rydel's confused mind asked as his heart pounded inside his chest.
Rydel felt a hand on his shoulder and spun to face Ray standing with the rest of the Unit, all glaring at him.
"Payback."
"Huh?" Rydel squeaked out.
"That's for beating our asses in pool. We're a proud group, Rydel. That ass-kicking was a bitter pill for us to take, you hustler."
The relief on Rydel's face was priceless to the Unit, all laughing and cheering, getting one over on the Doc.
"Okay, you got me. I thought that maybe I crossed the line coming in here to wish you good luck. Thinking we were…"
Rydel was unable to finish what he wanted to say, as the members of Ray's Unit had stopped laughing and cheering. "Thinking we were what, Rydel?" Janice asked.
"Friends."
"We are friends, Rydel," Adriana said, speaking for Ray and the others.
Sal walked over to Rydel and, with both hands, drew Rydel's head closer, kissing him on the forehead. "Fucking love this guy. We'll see you again, Doctor G. Count on it."
__
Colonel John Adams sat behind his desk in his office at the Genesis lab. Two sharp knocks on the office door turned his attention away from the laptop in front of him.
"Come in."
Ray entered the office, closed the door, and stood where he was, looking over the room of burgundy with two framed paintings. On one wall, a painting of a lone soldier walking out of an apocalyptic battlefield set against the dying rays of the sun. Glancing over at the other wall, Ray observed a painting of a blazing fire in the middle of an empty desert.
Behind the desk where the colonel sat, a floor-to-ceiling window splashed sunlight over the room. Outside, armed soldiers patrolled the area.
"I'm guessing that guy Will running the lab doesn't have the best room in the house anymore since you got here, does he, Colonel Adams?" Ray asked as he continued to stare at the desert painting.
"Fuck no."
The colonel stood up from behind his desk and met Ray where he stood, wrapping him in a bear hug. Easing away from the embrace, John smiled at Ray.
"My brother."
"Guess it did pay off to marry the sister of a colonel. Thanks for all the new toys."
"That wasn't me. That would be the general. Dowling knows how important you and the members of your Unit are."
"Really?"
"I might have had Rydel add a couple of things here and there that are still in development but are ready to go for you and your Unit."
"Where the hell have you been for the past few days, man?" Ray asked.
"Yeah, had to get back to Ridge so I could oversee how your mission is playing out. Good to go…good to go."
John stepped closer and put his hands on Ray's shoulders. Ray knew John was worried by the way he said "good to go" and waited for him to say what he really wanted to say.
"Careful, hear me? You come home safe."