Ian clutched Clive?s cube as he led the way to the rack. Rourke trailed a few paces behind him, exasperation seeping its way into his movements. When they reached the armored door, another soldier interrupted them.
“Howdy, Sergeant!” said the soldier. He held out his hand and shook Ian?s with a fervor that matched his voice. “Howdy, Captain!” He shook the captain?s hand with equal enthusiasm.
Ian didn?t know this soldier. No name or rank appeared on his uniform. He calmed a bit as he spoke to the captain. “I need to talk to you about something that came up tonight. And no, it can?t wait.” He rolled his eyes at his last point.
Rourke pointed at the armored door. “I?m busy cleaning up this night?s mess.”
“Great! You can wait out here behind the door with me.” The soldier stepped back and opened the armored door, to Ian?s surprise. Ian knew every single person on base with access to the storage and medical rooms. The soldier bowed and ushered with both hands towards the door. “Your duty awaits you, sire.”This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Ian paused before stepping through the doorway. He looked back and saw Captain Rourke standing on the other side with no intention to move as the door creaked shut and locked itself. Why did Rourke listen to that weirdo? Ian looked through the small viewport and watched the soldier give him an overhand wave, reaching for the ceiling and bouncing it side to side as if flagging down a vehicle.
Ian made it halfway through the storage room before the realization hit him. That fucking wave. He recalled the masked soldier waving at him as he walked down the street towards the police barricade. He’d just met one of the spec ops. Rourke?s reaction felt even stranger. He sighed and continued towards the back wall. No point in dwelling on it. Those troops had nothing to do with him anyway.
A special machine lay dormant in the far corner. A small shelf above it held a handful of cubes, shipped from all around this region to be processed at this machine. It looked to Ian like a bandsaw, but instead of a blade, the top piece housed the laser. A clamp protruded from the table. Ian set Clive?s cube in the clamp and fired up the machine.