Going Home II: Resurrection

DISCLAIMER:
This is a story of fiction, the author makes no recommendations and does not condone, or condemn, any actions taken by the characters in this story. The characters are completely fictional and any similarities to any person or persons, living or dead, real or fictional, are completely coincidental. The Author takes no responsibility for any actions or inactions taken by any person or persons who read this fictional portrayal – so read at your own risk! This is an original piece of fiction written by the author who goes by the pen name Magusfang, any other person who wishes to post this story, or download it, may do so as long as they retain this paragraph.



Going Home II: Resurrection

Steven sat in the truck, his cold grey eyes spanning the distance to his childhood home; he barely recognized the structure, his mother having built an addition and a large garage, the two new structures dwarfing the house they were attached to. He knew that Sam and Tommy lived in the apartment above the garage; he was right, Sam was never leaving and he thought that was a good thing, at least his mother would never be left alone. Steven knew that Beth and her little girl, Michelle or Mickey as they called her, lived in the large addition; he knew this partly because it was logical, but mostly because he had broken into the house and bugged the place; he wanted a chance to watch them for a while, to build up the courage to finally step out of the mist and face them in the sunlight. Steven laughed to himself, he remembered when he had first heard what he and his, now dead, comrades had been called; “Ghosts of the Mist”, it was a rough translation of an African tribal language. They had received the moniker when doing a job in the Sudan region, taking out a particularly nasty warlord; like it had done a lot of good, the man had been replaced with someone even worse in less then a month; Mr. White thought it was poetic and the moniker stuck.

Steven watched Beth and their mother working on dinner as Tommy and Mickey set the table, with a lot of teasing and laughing; this was a happy family and he wondered if he had a right to turn their world upside down. Maybe there was no stepping from the mist, no resurrection for a ghost like him, maybe death was his only reward, the only penance that could absolve him of his many sins…

Alex, that evidently was his new name since Steven Conner had accidentally stepped on a landmine three days ago and been vaporized; he wondered if the cover stories were so unbelievable as a sign to other covert agencies, or if the people making them up were
just stupid – vaporized indeed! Steven, or Alex, he knew he needed to start thinking in terms of his cover identity; a simple slip up like that on a mission could get him killed, and in turn anyone working with him as well.

Alex didn’t relish the thought of working with someone again; after his spotter had been crushed by a burning helicopter in a Middle Eastern desert over a year ago, he had worked alone exclusively, he didn’t want the responsibility of another life on his hands, didn’t want to have to watch someone’s back. Mr. White had assured him that they would do everything in their power to entertain his wishes, most of the operatives preferred solitude as well, but some missions were just too big for a single man and he would have to learn to play with others again. Alex shook his head and wondered what kind of cabal of psychopaths he had just joined; then laughed, figuring, after what he had done to Beth’s boyfriend, he would fit right in.

He continued down the white cinderblock hall, bathed in the harsh neon light like the school rooms of his childhood, the cheap tile floor echoing his footsteps to announce his arrival; he stopped at a single desk in the hall and handed his new identification to the bored looking guard. Alex knew that it was all an act, knew that this was a highly trained soldier and even in an empty hall this man would be hyper vigilant; Alex knew that the man had no choice, it was a price paid for dancing with the reaper and Alex paid it as well. The man kept one hand under the desk as he reached for Alex’s paperwork and both men smiled, it was obvious that the other hand held a weapon ready to cut Alex in half if he so much as farted sideways. The man checked the paperwork, nodded and handed it back, turning and nodding to a camera that unblinkingly watched both men, his hand never leaving the weapon; Alex knew that even if you belonged here, there were several infractions that would instantly cost you your life, no review board, no trial, just instant death.

“Have a nice day!” Alex said with a snide smile, breaking the silence when he heard the soft click of the security door, indicating some one on the other side had pushed a button to unlock it; the man just continued to stare at Alex’s face, no sound or emotion, as Alex turned and pushed the door open. He entered the hall and instantly noticed the walls here, while still painted white, were riveted steel instead of the ever-present cinderblock that most government buildings were constructed of; obviously these people didn’t want any uninvited guests in their house – or was it to keep the invited guests from leaving? Alex nodded at the man sitting at the desk just inside the door, the desk was a clone of the first and the man could have been as well, right down to his cold stare and unemotional face; the only difference was that this man openly pointed his weapon at Alex, he had entered the inner sanctum and there was no longer any pretense of civility needed or bothered with here and the meaning was plain – follow the rules here or die!

“Hello Steven…oh I’m sorry, hello Alex!” Alex turned when he heard the cheerful voice and saw a middle-aged man with a wide toothy grin approaching him, his hand held out in an offering of, if not friendship, then greeting, “My condolences on the untimely, and rather grisly I might add, death of Gunnery Sergeant Steven J. Connors, most distressing I’m sure. But let me be the first to congratulate you on the birth of Alex Stephan Standish, and may I say I love your new name – I can hardly wait to see your new monogrammed shirts.”

“It came to me in a dream.” Alex joked back, actually he hadn’t consciously realized what his initials would spell and figured it was his subconscious making a joke – but he felt it somehow fitting!

“Well believe it or not, no one else in Control caught it, or if they did they appreciated the joke as much as I did.” The man laughed as Alex took his hand and was impressed with the light grip, most macho he-man types tried to crush your hand not realizing strength is not the real achievement, self-control is, the ability to harness the strength you posses and only use it when needed is much more impressive than crushing beer cans, or people’s hands, for that matter. “I don’t think anyone will give you grief over your little jest, and by the time they do it will have been a fait accompli anyhow. Oh, I’m Michael Harrison by the way, your handler; I’ll over see your training here and will forward your assignments to you after you leave. If you have any requests or questions while you’re here, or after you’ve finished your training, I’m the man to see. You will have no contact with anyone else in the organization without prior authorization, understood?”

Alex heard the threat under the pleasant voice and nodded, “Understood.”

“Great, then let’s get you settled shall we?” Michaels replied as he released Alex’s hand and turned, walking down the almost painfully bright hallway as he continued to speak, “You’ll spend the next six months or so here, depending on how fast you pick everything up; six months is about the average, there’s a great deal to learn but I’m sure you’ll do fine. Your luggage will be held in storage, although I understand you have just one small bag, is there anything you require from it?”

“No.” Was his only reply.

“Good, good; it’s always best to make a clean break from your past; reminders are just depressing and you can’t afford the distractions, distractions can get you killed – even here!” Michael continued in, what Alex would soon learn, his normally cheerful voice; the older man always smiled, was always cheerful, and never seemed to loose his temper – not even on the day he finally died, in great and prolonged pain! “So, everything you need should already be in your rooms and if there is anything we overlooked, please don’t hesitate to ask; we want you to be very comfortable here, your training will be difficult and comfort during your downtime is very important to facilitate your learning, as well as your mental stability – at least that’s what the headshrinkers say!”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Alex replied, keeping his answers short and direct like the good Marine he was, the good Marine he would always be.

Michael stopped halfway down the hall, in front of a grey metal door that had Alex’s initials on it and both men chuckled softly when they saw the one foot high white letters stenciled on the door, “I think I’m going to like you immensely young man!”

Alex turned and smiled at the older man, he couldn’t help but like him already, “I’ll try and live up to such high expectations!”

“I’m sure!” Michael laughed as he waved at the security camera above the entrance, the cameras here were obvious and plentiful; everyone knew that every inch of this facility was under some sort of surveillance and there was no reason to be covert about it, plus the obvious cameras helped keep incidences of unplanned violence to a bare minimum – they did train unstable and violent men here after all! “After you good sir.” The older man said as the grey metal door slid silently sideways and into the wall; Alex walked in and stopped, staring at the poshly furnished apartment that was so out of place here as to be funny; but what stopped his laughter before it started was the beautiful blonde dressed in a well tailored business suit skirt, her well fitted jacket unbuttoned to reveal a set of obviously firm and impressive breasts, Alex knew they were firm because they stood proudly and the outline of her nipples was evidence that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “This is Miss Taylor, she is your secretary, aide, all around girl Friday…anything you need, just ask her.” The older man interjected as he saw Alex turn to him, eyes wide with curiosity; Alex turned back to the woman as she spoke while walking towards the two men.

“Please call me Shannon.” Her voice was soft and sweet sounding, but Alex knew she could probably snap his neck in the blink of an eye. As she stopped, he was surprised to notice that she was nearly as tall as he was as she held her neatly manicured small, and most likely exquisitely soft, hand to him and continued speaking, “I’m here to help facilitate your training, make things easier for you, help you relax so you can concentrate on the things you need to learn…and maybe teach you a few things that the other instructors neglect to pass on!” Alex heard the subtle change in her voice and as he reached out to take her hand his cold grey eyes locked on to the deep blue of hers, searching for hidden answers to unasked questions but finding nothing but the deep blue pools that threatened to drown his soul.

“Really.” Alex quietly replied as he released her hand and caught a whiff of her sweet musky scent, knowing it was all her because human’s could never duplicate such an exquisite and heavenly aroma; he clenched his teeth and used all his training, his will power, his self-discipline to regain his composure and hoping his military bearing would be enough to protect him from the sexual creature even while he knew it wouldn’t.

“Yes sir, anything you need, and I do mean anything…” Shannon replied with a wink and a small enticing smile that gave little but promised everything as she stepped around the stunned young man, giving Michael a small kiss on the cheek before walking from the room, disappearing through a heavy wooden door that led to another room that Alex could only guess at. His eyes widened as he took in her body from behind and noticed that at the end of her long shapely legs she wore only bare feet, very pretty bare feet at that.

Alex jumped slightly as Michael, good-naturedly, gave his back a slap and laughed as the heavy wooden door closed, “She’s here to do anything you ask…and I do mean anything! But ask young man, because there are certain things she won’t do and if your tastes run in that direction…well another secretary will be found for you! I can’t emphasize this enough; if she says no, then the answer is no, we can always find a girl that will say yes!”

“Are you saying…?” Alex started to ask as he turned to his new handler, a small blush on his cheeks. Michael’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw the tall dangerous man before him blush like a school boy, it was rare that an applicant surprised him and he suddenly knew that this young man was something special.

“Is there a problem…would you rather have a male assistant or is she too old?” Michael asked, already knowing the answer to his questions but wanting to see Alex’s response.

“Old? What is she twenty-three, four?” The older man was surprised again that Alex completely ignored the subtle insinuation that he was gay and focused on his calling Shannon old; this told him that Alex wasn’t gay, but also wasn’t homophobic, which was actually very rare in soldiers as accomplished as he was. It also told him that Alex wasn’t a pedophile, for which Michaels was eternally grateful, he truly hated the bent ones; and he was pretty sure, judging by the blush on the young man’s cheeks and the genuine surprise in his steel grey eyes, that he didn’t belong in the whips and chains club. Michael wondered what this young man’s kink was, and he was sure he had one – they all did! The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Alex realized that the older man was going to force him to ask, so with a small resigned sigh, “Am I expected to have sex with her?