HOME | DD

Description
March 30, 2019; Bellwood

Ben carefully lifted the Hands of Armageddon onto the strong steel of the specialized shelves they jury rigged to keep the artifact secure. His red veins bulged a little on his four arms as he lowered it down and secured it with the straps, but it proved to be a small challenge. He wiped his forehead, and admired his handiwork.

“So like… is that really the best name you could come up with for this guy?” Jess asked. “Four Arms?”

“Hey, if it works it works,” Ben shrugged, hitting the hourglass symbol on his chest and transforming himself back to human.

“It is a little lame, Tennyson,” Kevin smirked.

“You're only saying that because of how many times you got smacked around by Four Arms in the past,” Gwen returned.

“Maybe.”

“At least now we've got the Hands of Armageddon safe and secure,” Ava said. “And hopefully that explosion will keep Lucifer and Eon out of commission for a while…”

“Which means you can hop back into the Animus,” Ruby smiled, patting her girlfriend's shoulder.

Ava nodded, and she led her friends back out into the hideout living room. Suddenly they started hearing the faint buzzing of a cell phone going off. The group all turned towards Jacob, who looked very tense once again.

“Um…” Catherine said. “Are you going to answer that, dude? That thing's been blowing up since we left Nevada.”

He made a soft whine, looking down at his pocket. “I really don’t want to… That’s Berg’s Office tone. He only uses that phone when there’s something wrong…”

The buzzing stopped, and there was silence again for a brief moment. But the silence didn't last, as Jacob's phone sprang to life yet again, this time playing Imperial March as the ringtone instead of the normal threatening buzzing.

“That would be the emergency line.” He swallowed and pulled it out, hitting the answer call button. “Yello.”

“SINGER!” screamed Berg from the other line. He shrunk a little where he stood, slowly raising it to his ear.

“Hey boss.” He gave us a scared look before hurrying out of the room. They could still hear Berg screaming as he left.

“Well,” Gwen said. “That sounds like a comfortable office environment.”

“Berg likes to yell with words. I just yell with my fists,” Chelsea shrugged, taking a seat on the couch and turning on the TV.

“I'm sure he'll be fine,” Kevin chuckled, sitting down in a chair.

“I don't know,” Jess laughed. “I knew Berg. And I'd rather be going toe to toe with Lucifer than be in the way of Berg's rage.”

“Speaking of Lucifer,” Ben prompted. “You guys clearly had a history with the guy. Care to tell us the story?”

Ava sat down in her Animus recliner, sighing a deep breath as memories and the dread associated with them started creeping back into her brain.

“Lucifer is one of the isu we told you guys about,” she began. “The Devil himself incarnate.

“Awesome,” Kevin laughed, earning him a nudge from Gwen.

“He’s been kicking around the Earth in one form or another for millennia, waiting to get the technology he needs in order to revive his ultimate plan.”

“And that ultimate plan is destroying the universe?” Ben asked.

“Not the most original, I'll admit,” Ruby laughed.

“We went toe to toe with him a few years back,” Cathy explained. “His brother Gabriel sent us on this goose chase to find his own armor in order to kick Lucy's ass back to the grave. We all rammed him through the heart.”

“Didn't really do a good job at it then,” Kevin said. “He seemed pretty alive and well back at Area 51.”

“I guess Eon brought him back to life somehow…” Ava said, shaking her head a little as she herself struggled to process her own words. “And if they're after the Apple, there's no telling what kind of destruction they'll use it for.”

“I can tell you that it certainly won't be good.”

The gang suddenly jumped and yelped. They all immediately turned to face the source of the voice that had suddenly appeared in their living room. He smiled at them, returning their looks of surprise and fear with a friendly grin and arms folded behind his back.

“Hello again, friends!” the Professor chirped.

“Dude,” Catherine said. “You've gotta stop doing that.”

“We say that to him every time and he never does,” Ben moaned.

“I just wanted to drop by and check in on how your mission is going,” the Professor smiled, clearly ignoring and enjoying their reactions at the same time. “I saw you retrieved the Hands of Armageddon from Area 51!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. “And right on schedule as well! Oh this is going splendid!”

“You never told us Eon had a friend,” Kevin complained.

“Or that our arch nemesis is back from the dead,” Ava frowned.

“Ah yes, terribly sorry children,” Paradox said. “These details slip your mind when you're on a time limit. The important part is that the Hands of Armageddon are still locked safely away from the hands of Eon and Lucifer.”

“We still don't have the Apple though,” Chelsea pointed out.

“You will find it soon, don't worry,” Paradox assured. “It's just a simple matter of Ava continuing her Animus sessions until she finds the location of the artifact.”

“I hope you're right,” Ava said, waiting for Ruby to come hook her up to the machine. “Because if Lucifer is back from the dead, I want to make sure we put him back in the ground as soon as possible.”

“Same here,” Ruby said, grabbing the headset and fastening it onto Ava’s head.

“If you guys are gonna be busy with that,” Kevin said, standing up. “I'm gonna head out to the garage and start fixing up my ride.”

“I can help you out once Ava’s all hooked up and in the session,” Ruby offered. “I do technically owe it to ya.”

Kevin smiled. “Yeah sure. Meet me outside,” he said, before disappearing into the garage.

“Oh! That reminds me, Ms. Mills,” Paradox spoke up, pointing to the garage door. “I've taken the liberty of bringing some… useful equipment that you might want to tinker with while you're awaiting results from dear Ava.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked.

“One of your recent projects that I believe you'll find quite helpful should things take another sour turn during this whole endeavor.”

Ruby's eyes suddenly widened in realization. “Oh no way!” she smiled.

“Wait what is it?” Ava asked.

“You know how I told you I've been working on a special project for you, Champ?”

“Yeah.”

“It's that.”

Ava laughed. “You're not gonna tell me what it is?”

“I want it to be a surprise.”

“Alright alright,” Ava chuckled. “Go ahead and send me back to Bromden then so you can go and work on it.”

“Aye aye cap’n!” Ruby gave a joke salute and then carefully lowered the Animus visor over Ava’s eyes. Ava felt the click of the mechanics against her neurons as the inside of the visor lit up, trapping her in the endless white void of digital DNA and strings of binary. Ava looked around herself, her eyes going straight to the selection menu along one of the DNA strands that stretched in front of her.

“I'm ready when you are, Champ,” Ruby called to her from beyond the void. “Just say the word.”

“The word.”

“Awesome. Good luck Ava! Love you!”

“Love you too, Rubes.”

“Loading up the memory now.”

A segment of the DNA started blinking faster and faster in front of Ava, glowing brighter and brighter until it consumed her entire vision. The code wormed its way into her brain, slithering around and taking hold like a snake. The light slowly began to clear as the world slowly built up around him. His house, his town, his home. It all settled in around him, and he found himself looking out over Deadwood like her had been during the entirety of this uneventful day.

------------

April 12, 1961; Deadwood, South Dakota

He wished he could enjoy the tranquility like he used to. He still enjoyed them. He loved this town more than the very air in his lungs. This was his home, and here was his family. Everything he had to live for was right here, and he wouldn't trade it for all the worlds in the solar system.

But, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was tired, and there were certain kinds of tired that can't just be healed with a day looking out at pretty scenery. So many mysteries still plagued his mind. So many schemes still being plotted by Abstergo that he didn't know the full scope of. Things that, if they were ever allowed to succeed, would mean he would never be able to enjoy the company of his family or the rolling mountains of the Black Hills ever again. And the thought of that reality scared him to his core, no matter how much he wanted to push those fears away.

He had told Marcel of what he found at Area 51, of all the experiments that they were conducting there and their cryptic talk of finding some mcguffin in an unreachable place. Marcel unfortunately was just as baffled, just as stumped. What other places could the Templars extend their reach to that they haven't already? Sure, the world had its fair share of uncharted lands and uncontacted peoples still, but for the most part, this planet had been dominated. The final frontier had been met. What else could they be aiming for?

“Dad! Dad!”

Bromden snapped out of his daze. The chirping voice of his daughter was always able to take those thoughts away. She could always take away that tiredness that the scenery couldn't. He smiled.

Wanbli came running out the front door, full of excitement and a huge smile on her face. She ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “Dad dad dad!” she said.

“What's up, pumpkin?” he asked, ruffling her hair.

“You gotta come watch the TV with us! You gotta come see the news! This is so cool!”

Bromden chuckled. “Alright alright,” he said, slowly getting up from his chair. “Give your old man a sec and I'll be right there.”

She kept pulling on his arm until he stood and let her drag him back into the house. Macha was already waiting for them on the couch in front of the television. Bromden cast a glance over at the black and white screen. A newscast was flicking through the set, and Macha went to turn up the volume as her husband and daughter sat down to join her.

“So what's going on?” Bromden asked.

“A historical moment,” Macha told him.

“Oh?”

“Just watch. They've been talking about it all day.”

Bromden simply gave a shrugging nod and wrapped his arm around his wife as his daughter sat gittering in front of them on the floor, all of their eyes fixed on the reporter delivering his message from the station:

“Thursday, one of the most unforgettable of our century. The point of departure for man seeking to reach space.”

Bromden raised an eyebrow. The screen shifted to a photograph of a man wearing pilot's gear, smiling heroically. Now Bromden's attention was gripped tight. The broadcast went on.

“And this man, Yuri Gagarin, Major in the Soviet Air Force, is the first to cross the frontier into the unknown of space. 27 years old, wiley, handsome, highly trained, married to a medical student, the father of two girls. Occupation: Cosmonaut. The World's first. He has now traveled faster, higher, and farther than any man in the history of this planet, and no other man can yet claim the same occupation, or distinction. Tonight, all Russia has gone wild with joy. Delirious crowds in the streets of Moscow, Leningrad, and other cities, hailing the triumph of Soviet science over the West. Russia calls it ‘an unparalleled victory of Man over the forces of Nature, an immense achievement of science and technology, and a triumph of the human mind. And it is indeed, all of these things.”

Bromden blinked, trying to comprehend this historical but shocking news. The Soviets had put a man into space? He'd heard about experiments with dogs and monkeys trying to put a lifeform into orbit, trying to move on to the next step other than a few satellites, but… a man? He kept his ears locked on the broadcast.

“Now the world is asking, ‘what next?”. What will Russia try to conquer next in the new world of Space? This is what the Russians have in mind for us…”

The screen shifted again, this time to a drawing of a sort of open canyon, and slowly a sort of animated plane type thing started flying in from off screen.

“A film preview of the future from Soviet Science. You're looking at a portion of an extensive film animation prepared by the Soviets of a projected trip to the Moon, one they claim will be a reality in the next five to ten years.”

Bromden's head spun as the information processed, and so many things began to click together. He thought back to the Templars he had overheard, of all their talk of making it “up there" to retrieve “an artifact" by the end of the next decade. The reporter went on to explain how the Soviet rocket aimed for the Moon would work, about their mission and return trip details. Bromden was hardly paying attention. Too much was swimming through his brain. Even while Macha and Wanbli watched this historic report with glee and excitement, Bromden found it difficult to contain his worry.

“And so the pattern of Soviet science in space. ‘Where are we?’ we ask tonight. Our Project Mercury will get off the ground in its first short manned shot near the end of this month. A short ride 115 miles to the edge of space. April 28 is the earliest date. As for an orbital flight, like Russia did today, that won't come until the end of the year. Maybe not even until early next year. And how do our Mercury astronauts feel about the Soviet triumph? ‘Disappointed’, they all tell us today, ‘Naturally, we wanted to be first.’ Ten days ago at Mercury headquarters, Langley Field, Virginia, I asked Lieutenant Colonel John Glenn, who may well be our first astronaut into space, how he would feel is the Russians beat us into space.”

There was a knock at the door. Bromden didn't really register it at first. The Templars, everything he’d heard them talk about, all their plans with Area 51 and Sputnik and all the other seemingly insane experiments. It all started to come together.

Another knock, one noticeably harder. Macha shook her husband's shoulder.

“Bromden,” she said, clearly a bit worried by his expression and the knocking. She motioned her head towards the door. Bromden shook his head, quickly apologized to her, and then hurried over to answer the door.

He opened it slowly, carefully, and unfortunately the two men he saw standing outside didn't inspire much relief. Men in dark pristine suits, with earpieces hanging from the sides of their heads, and faces like stone. Bromden kept his finger on the mechanism of his hidden blade.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he nodded to them, pulling as much of a smile as he could. “How can I help you?”

“Major Bromden Arnolds?” one of them asked.

“I am,” Bromden answered cautiously. One of the men reached into his suit pocket. Bromden's finger's tensed, but all the man pulled out was a small ID card. A government ID card.

“Mr. Arnolds, my name is Agent Ackles. This is Agent Padalecki. We're here on behalf of the President of the United States of America. He would like a word with you.”

Description
March 30, 2019; Bellwood

Ben carefully lifted the Hands of Armageddon onto the strong steel of the specialized shelves they jury rigged to keep the artifact secure. His red veins bulged a little on his four arms as he lowered it down and secured it with the straps, but it proved to be a small challenge. He wiped his forehead, and admired his handiwork.

“So like… is that really the best name you could come up with for this guy?” Jess asked. “Four Arms?”

“Hey, if it works it works,” Ben shrugged, hitting the hourglass symbol on his chest and transforming himself back to human.

“It is a little lame, Tennyson,” Kevin smirked.

“You're only saying that because of how many times you got smacked around by Four Arms in the past,” Gwen returned.

“Maybe.”

“At least now we've got the Hands of Armageddon safe and secure,” Ava said. “And hopefully that explosion will keep Lucifer and Eon out of commission for a while…”

“Which means you can hop back into the Animus,” Ruby smiled, patting her girlfriend's shoulder.

Ava nodded, and she led her friends back out into the hideout living room. Suddenly they started hearing the faint buzzing of a cell phone going off. The group all turned towards Jacob, who looked very tense once again.

“Um…” Catherine said. “Are you going to answer that, dude? That thing's been blowing up since we left Nevada.”

He made a soft whine, looking down at his pocket. “I really don’t want to… That’s Berg’s Office tone. He only uses that phone when there’s something wrong…”

The buzzing stopped, and there was silence again for a brief moment. But the silence didn't last, as Jacob's phone sprang to life yet again, this time playing Imperial March as the ringtone instead of the normal threatening buzzing.

“That would be the emergency line.” He swallowed and pulled it out, hitting the answer call button. “Yello.”

“SINGER!” screamed Berg from the other line. He shrunk a little where he stood, slowly raising it to his ear.

“Hey boss.” He gave us a scared look before hurrying out of the room. They could still hear Berg screaming as he left.

“Well,” Gwen said. “That sounds like a comfortable office environment.”

“Berg likes to yell with words. I just yell with my fists,” Chelsea shrugged, taking a seat on the couch and turning on the TV.

“I'm sure he'll be fine,” Kevin chuckled, sitting down in a chair.

“I don't know,” Jess laughed. “I knew Berg. And I'd rather be going toe to toe with Lucifer than be in the way of Berg's rage.”

“Speaking of Lucifer,” Ben prompted. “You guys clearly had a history with the guy. Care to tell us the story?”

Ava sat down in her Animus recliner, sighing a deep breath as memories and the dread associated with them started creeping back into her brain.

“Lucifer is one of the isu we told you guys about,” she began. “The Devil himself incarnate.

“Awesome,” Kevin laughed, earning him a nudge from Gwen.

“He’s been kicking around the Earth in one form or another for millennia, waiting to get the technology he needs in order to revive his ultimate plan.”

“And that ultimate plan is destroying the universe?” Ben asked.

“Not the most original, I'll admit,” Ruby laughed.

“We went toe to toe with him a few years back,” Cathy explained. “His brother Gabriel sent us on this goose chase to find his own armor in order to kick Lucy's ass back to the grave. We all rammed him through the heart.”

“Didn't really do a good job at it then,” Kevin said. “He seemed pretty alive and well back at Area 51.”

“I guess Eon brought him back to life somehow…” Ava said, shaking her head a little as she herself struggled to process her own words. “And if they're after the Apple, there's no telling what kind of destruction they'll use it for.”

“I can tell you that it certainly won't be good.”

The gang suddenly jumped and yelped. They all immediately turned to face the source of the voice that had suddenly appeared in their living room. He smiled at them, returning their looks of surprise and fear with a friendly grin and arms folded behind his back.

“Hello again, friends!” the Professor chirped.

“Dude,” Catherine said. “You've gotta stop doing that.”

“We say that to him every time and he never does,” Ben moaned.

“I just wanted to drop by and check in on how your mission is going,” the Professor smiled, clearly ignoring and enjoying their reactions at the same time. “I saw you retrieved the Hands of Armageddon from Area 51!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. “And right on schedule as well! Oh this is going splendid!”

“You never told us Eon had a friend,” Kevin complained.

“Or that our arch nemesis is back from the dead,” Ava frowned.

“Ah yes, terribly sorry children,” Paradox said. “These details slip your mind when you're on a time limit. The important part is that the Hands of Armageddon are still locked safely away from the hands of Eon and Lucifer.”

“We still don't have the Apple though,” Chelsea pointed out.

“You will find it soon, don't worry,” Paradox assured. “It's just a simple matter of Ava continuing her Animus sessions until she finds the location of the artifact.”

“I hope you're right,” Ava said, waiting for Ruby to come hook her up to the machine. “Because if Lucifer is back from the dead, I want to make sure we put him back in the ground as soon as possible.”

“Same here,” Ruby said, grabbing the headset and fastening it onto Ava’s head.

“If you guys are gonna be busy with that,” Kevin said, standing up. “I'm gonna head out to the garage and start fixing up my ride.”

“I can help you out once Ava’s all hooked up and in the session,” Ruby offered. “I do technically owe it to ya.”

Kevin smiled. “Yeah sure. Meet me outside,” he said, before disappearing into the garage.

“Oh! That reminds me, Ms. Mills,” Paradox spoke up, pointing to the garage door. “I've taken the liberty of bringing some… useful equipment that you might want to tinker with while you're awaiting results from dear Ava.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked.

“One of your recent projects that I believe you'll find quite helpful should things take another sour turn during this whole endeavor.”

Ruby's eyes suddenly widened in realization. “Oh no way!” she smiled.

“Wait what is it?” Ava asked.

“You know how I told you I've been working on a special project for you, Champ?”

“Yeah.”

“It's that.”

Ava laughed. “You're not gonna tell me what it is?”

“I want it to be a surprise.”

“Alright alright,” Ava chuckled. “Go ahead and send me back to Bromden then so you can go and work on it.”

“Aye aye cap’n!” Ruby gave a joke salute and then carefully lowered the Animus visor over Ava’s eyes. Ava felt the click of the mechanics against her neurons as the inside of the visor lit up, trapping her in the endless white void of digital DNA and strings of binary. Ava looked around herself, her eyes going straight to the selection menu along one of the DNA strands that stretched in front of her.

“I'm ready when you are, Champ,” Ruby called to her from beyond the void. “Just say the word.”

“The word.”

“Awesome. Good luck Ava! Love you!”

“Love you too, Rubes.”

“Loading up the memory now.”

A segment of the DNA started blinking faster and faster in front of Ava, glowing brighter and brighter until it consumed her entire vision. The code wormed its way into her brain, slithering around and taking hold like a snake. The light slowly began to clear as the world slowly built up around him. His house, his town, his home. It all settled in around him, and he found himself looking out over Deadwood like her had been during the entirety of this uneventful day.

------------

April 12, 1961; Deadwood, South Dakota

He wished he could enjoy the tranquility like he used to. He still enjoyed them. He loved this town more than the very air in his lungs. This was his home, and here was his family. Everything he had to live for was right here, and he wouldn't trade it for all the worlds in the solar system.

But, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was tired, and there were certain kinds of tired that can't just be healed with a day looking out at pretty scenery. So many mysteries still plagued his mind. So many schemes still being plotted by Abstergo that he didn't know the full scope of. Things that, if they were ever allowed to succeed, would mean he would never be able to enjoy the company of his family or the rolling mountains of the Black Hills ever again. And the thought of that reality scared him to his core, no matter how much he wanted to push those fears away.

He had told Marcel of what he found at Area 51, of all the experiments that they were conducting there and their cryptic talk of finding some mcguffin in an unreachable place. Marcel unfortunately was just as baffled, just as stumped. What other places could the Templars extend their reach to that they haven't already? Sure, the world had its fair share of uncharted lands and uncontacted peoples still, but for the most part, this planet had been dominated. The final frontier had been met. What else could they be aiming for?

“Dad! Dad!”

Bromden snapped out of his daze. The chirping voice of his daughter was always able to take those thoughts away. She could always take away that tiredness that the scenery couldn't. He smiled.

Wanbli came running out the front door, full of excitement and a huge smile on her face. She ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “Dad dad dad!” she said.

“What's up, pumpkin?” he asked, ruffling her hair.

“You gotta come watch the TV with us! You gotta come see the news! This is so cool!”

Bromden chuckled. “Alright alright,” he said, slowly getting up from his chair. “Give your old man a sec and I'll be right there.”

She kept pulling on his arm until he stood and let her drag him back into the house. Macha was already waiting for them on the couch in front of the television. Bromden cast a glance over at the black and white screen. A newscast was flicking through the set, and Macha went to turn up the volume as her husband and daughter sat down to join her.

“So what's going on?” Bromden asked.

“A historical moment,” Macha told him.

“Oh?”

“Just watch. They've been talking about it all day.”

Bromden simply gave a shrugging nod and wrapped his arm around his wife as his daughter sat gittering in front of them on the floor, all of their eyes fixed on the reporter delivering his message from the station:

“Thursday, one of the most unforgettable of our century. The point of departure for man seeking to reach space.”

Bromden raised an eyebrow. The screen shifted to a photograph of a man wearing pilot's gear, smiling heroically. Now Bromden's attention was gripped tight. The broadcast went on.

“And this man, Yuri Gagarin, Major in the Soviet Air Force, is the first to cross the frontier into the unknown of space. 27 years old, wiley, handsome, highly trained, married to a medical student, the father of two girls. Occupation: Cosmonaut. The World's first. He has now traveled faster, higher, and farther than any man in the history of this planet, and no other man can yet claim the same occupation, or distinction. Tonight, all Russia has gone wild with joy. Delirious crowds in the streets of Moscow, Leningrad, and other cities, hailing the triumph of Soviet science over the West. Russia calls it ‘an unparalleled victory of Man over the forces of Nature, an immense achievement of science and technology, and a triumph of the human mind. And it is indeed, all of these things.”

Bromden blinked, trying to comprehend this historical but shocking news. The Soviets had put a man into space? He'd heard about experiments with dogs and monkeys trying to put a lifeform into orbit, trying to move on to the next step other than a few satellites, but… a man? He kept his ears locked on the broadcast.

“Now the world is asking, ‘what next?”. What will Russia try to conquer next in the new world of Space? This is what the Russians have in mind for us…”

The screen shifted again, this time to a drawing of a sort of open canyon, and slowly a sort of animated plane type thing started flying in from off screen.

“A film preview of the future from Soviet Science. You're looking at a portion of an extensive film animation prepared by the Soviets of a projected trip to the Moon, one they claim will be a reality in the next five to ten years.”

Bromden's head spun as the information processed, and so many things began to click together. He thought back to the Templars he had overheard, of all their talk of making it “up there" to retrieve “an artifact" by the end of the next decade. The reporter went on to explain how the Soviet rocket aimed for the Moon would work, about their mission and return trip details. Bromden was hardly paying attention. Too much was swimming through his brain. Even while Macha and Wanbli watched this historic report with glee and excitement, Bromden found it difficult to contain his worry.

“And so the pattern of Soviet science in space. ‘Where are we?’ we ask tonight. Our Project Mercury will get off the ground in its first short manned shot near the end of this month. A short ride 115 miles to the edge of space. April 28 is the earliest date. As for an orbital flight, like Russia did today, that won't come until the end of the year. Maybe not even until early next year. And how do our Mercury astronauts feel about the Soviet triumph? ‘Disappointed’, they all tell us today, ‘Naturally, we wanted to be first.’ Ten days ago at Mercury headquarters, Langley Field, Virginia, I asked Lieutenant Colonel John Glenn, who may well be our first astronaut into space, how he would feel is the Russians beat us into space.”

There was a knock at the door. Bromden didn't really register it at first. The Templars, everything he’d heard them talk about, all their plans with Area 51 and Sputnik and all the other seemingly insane experiments. It all started to come together.

Another knock, one noticeably harder. Macha shook her husband's shoulder.

“Bromden,” she said, clearly a bit worried by his expression and the knocking. She motioned her head towards the door. Bromden shook his head, quickly apologized to her, and then hurried over to answer the door.

He opened it slowly, carefully, and unfortunately the two men he saw standing outside didn't inspire much relief. Men in dark pristine suits, with earpieces hanging from the sides of their heads, and faces like stone. Bromden kept his finger on the mechanism of his hidden blade.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he nodded to them, pulling as much of a smile as he could. “How can I help you?”

“Major Bromden Arnolds?” one of them asked.

“I am,” Bromden answered cautiously. One of the men reached into his suit pocket. Bromden's finger's tensed, but all the man pulled out was a small ID card. A government ID card.

“Mr. Arnolds, my name is Agent Ackles. This is Agent Padalecki. We're here on behalf of the President of the United States of America. He would like a word with you.”