Over the past several weeks General Tex Fury of Cellstrike had called in every favor he was owed, all in service of securing a meeting with the top brass leading “The Commanders,” an elite joint operations task force that has, until recently preferred to operate ‘behind the scenes’, whatever the hell that meant. Now he’d finally been granted his meeting, and it was not going well.
“I don’t think you quite appreciate just what it is you’re asking.” The observation came from Air Force General Marcus Lynch. He was a stocky man with a tight haircut and well-trimmed mustache. He continued. “You are asking for us to commit a significant segment of our manpower. For what, exactly?”
“Marcus,” chimed in another of the Commanders, the soft-spoken General Alan Armstrong. “If General Fury’s concerns are well-founded then Cellstrike is at risk of losing their top operative, a Mister… erm…” Armstrong glanced over at Tex.
Fury shook his head. “It’s classified. Top level.”
“What, was he bred in a lab or something?” Armstrong let out a small chuckle. Fury did not acknowledge the question.
General Kuleni Tarik of the Terrestrial Army shook her head. “This is ridiculous. If Cellstrike has been compromised then it is our duty to offer assistance.”
“If Cellstrike has been compromised then this could be a ploy to lure us out into the open,” said Navy Admiral Wilhelm Backer through a thick Belgian accent. This thought brought a momentary silence over the room as the other Commanders shifted in their seats.
“We have no reason to believe that is the motive,” Fury finally said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet. “If that were their intention, they wouldn’t bother with targeting this one operative. They would be attacking us indiscriminately.”
General Lynch sighed. “Even if we wanted to help, we have our hands full. After the latest incursion--”
“I’ll remind you that Cellstrike was instrumental in repelling the Demon incursion,” Tex interjected.
Lynch scoffed in disgust. “’Demon incursion.’ Is that what the press is calling it now?”
“General Fury,” spoke General Armstrong, loud enough and forward enough to demand the attention and absolute silence of the other Commanders. “What is it, exactly, that you are proposing?”
Tex stood in silence for a moment. He knew that his next words may very well determine not only the fate of [REDACTED to protect identity], but of Cellstrike as a whole.
“I think there has been a misconception of my intentions. I am not asking that you come in and do our jobs for us. I am not asking for your protection, despite General Lynch insists we need,” Tex and Lynch shared an unpleasant stare. “I recognize the reality of our situation. Cellstrike, while pound-for-pound the best-trained operatives in the world, cannot be everywhere at once. We have too many leads to follow them all, and letting them go cold is simply unacceptable.”
“So, what after? We take over your day-to-day while you address this lone stalker situation,” Admiral Backer asked. “That does not seem particularly fa—”
“I say we help,” General Tarik interrupted, clearly irritated with the circular discussion going on. “Not only do we owe it to them, as Cellstrike has pulled our asses out of the fire more times than any of us can count, but this could prove to be advantageous. Many of the younger Commanders have only seen combat in simulations. This could prove invaluable for them.”
The Generals, including Fury, fell silent once again. This one lasted close to a minute before General Armstrong spoke up.
“If the threat against Cellstrike turns out to be real, then they are going to need every available hand they can get. I vote yes.”
Admiral Backer spoke second. “I cannot find fault in General Tarik’s reasoning. I am in.”
Lynch muttered a curse under his breath before declaring, simply, “Fine.”
Later, outside the conference room, Tex Fury paced. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the headache of navigating bureaucracy replacing the headache that normally accompanied jet lag. As he sat, footsteps approached.
“That was ballsy, Tex,” General Tarik said with a smile. “I didn’t think you were going to get as much as you did from the others.”
Fury shook his head. “I remember there being less bureaucracy.”
“Normally there is,” Tarik laughed. “Your briefing spooked the old guard in there. Maybe not Armstrong – he’s as unflappable as they come. But Backer? Lynch? You gave them a proper scare with all this talk of some mysterious body having full access to Cellstrike’s movements.”
“All the more reason for y’all to join the fight.”
“They did, Tex. Lynch has already ordered Captain Jetté to investigate one of your leads. Once I’m back in Arlington, I’ll be issuing assignments of my own. Whatever we find, Cellstrike will have full access to it.”
Fury nodded, seemingly pleased with this arrangement. He rose to his feet, and offered his hand to Tarik, which she took in a firm handshake.
“Thank you, Kuleni.”
“Any time, Tex. Now let’s find this son of a bitch.”
…To Be Continued.
