- roraj 196
- |
- Exalted Member
I have been thinking about aplot for some time now, and never really got around to writing it. I did post a part of it a few days ago, but there were no comments left so I presumed there were no readers. Besides, it wasn't that good, especially for the start, so I am re-writing. Enjoy!
CHAPTER 1
Jack tightened his tie and checked over his suit. He cursed as he found his flies were undone and swiftly did them up. He took a few deep breaths. He glanced at the clock on the wall of his apartment. 10 seconds until his escort was due to arrive, and knowing the man who sent the escorts, Jack had no doubt that they would call at the precise second. Hell, they were probably waiting outside already, just waiting for the exact time.
The sudden ring of the doorbell broke the silence. Jack closed his eyes and sighed before striding down the hallway to the front door. He smoothed his hair and opened it.
He was met by two men. One was clearly the chauffer; dressed in a long grey coat with gold buttons and a parker cap. He smiled warmly and greeted Jack as he stepped out. The other was most likely a bodyguard; a thick-set, bald man who looked very uncomfortable in the suit he was wearing. He raised his hand out at Jack, purposely stressing the material of his jacket so it revealed the unfriendly looking pistol holstered on a belt around his waist. Jack studied him for a while, running through disarming dills in his mind, and smiled grimly as he shook the bodyguard's hand. He walked down the stairs to the back of the car where the smiling chauffer was holding open the door for him.
Jack thanked him and got in. He was rather unnerved when the large bodyguard also hauled himself inside next to him. The bodyguard grunted as he struggled to fit his muscular body inside the back seat, despite the massive space. He must have been nearly seven foot and almost as wide. The chauffer started the engine, and the journey began.
Two years since the war, but its influence was still strong. There was still a one-year conscription for all men over 20 Earth years to one division of the forces, and Jack couldn't seem to be able to shake off his long-term involvement with the ODSTs. He presumed that's why the ONI Chairman, mysterious Mr. Clark, has sent for him. He'd been headhunted for several ops after his achievement during the final stages of the war helping extract a high-priority Covenant asset in New Mombasa. He knew the same had happened to all the others in his squad, but he hadn't seen any of them since. No surprise; they hadn't even known his name. To them, he had simply been "The Rookie" despite the fact he had far more experience than them. Still, at least he wasn't ever referred to as "The FNG."
They were travelling through New York, the Old District, and James tried not to gawp at the marvellous skyscrapers of old. The Empire State Building had always been a fixation of his. It had been built in the 1930s, during a period of global depression, where almost every man was unemployed. Still, New Yorkers pulled together to make the world's tallest building in just over a year. Such determination had only ever been repeated recently in the war, but that was under different circumstances; the very existence of humanity was at stake.
Minutes later, the car pulled up outside an ominous looking building. It was dark grey with blackened windows so that no one could see in. It shrouded the nearby square in darkness, towering over it and scaring people into walking faster. At the top, there was the large ONI logo the only indication to the proprietors of the building.
The bodyguard thrust open the suicide doors of the Rolls Royce and held it open for Jack. Jack nodded at the bodyguard and thanked the chauffer. He heard the door close behind him and started walking over to the entrance. He was shocked when he felt the large hand of the bodyguard on his back, propelling him forwards towards the single revolving door. He thought about protesting, lashing out and subduing his escort, but he kept his cool. He would not attack first, that was stupid.
The foyer of the ONI building was as dark as its exterior. Pitiful attempts at lighting were snuffed out by the shadows cast by numerous pillars. The bodyguard forced jack to an elevator at the far side of the lobby. It appeared to be deserted but two secretaries sat at the front desk, staring at the unlikely pair down their noses before sharply turning their heads back to their work.
The elevator arrived swiftly and Jack stepped inside quickly so the bodyguard applied force to thin air, just to prove that he was capable of walking on his own. The bodyguard pressed the button for the 91st floor, just below the penthouse and they were lifted upwards rapidly. Jack watched the floor number increase at a rate of a floor a second. In a minute and a half, they were at their destination.
The doors opened smoothly and Jack stepped inside. It was a wide office with a desk facing the elevator. To the left, there was a large window that ranged from corner to corner and floor to ceiling. It was basically a glass wall that offered a panoramic view of the entire city. A silhouette of a suited man stood at the window, holding his hands behind his back.
"Ah, the renowned Jack Downes the ODST that Hell wouldn't accept" he said. His voice was hoarse and commanding. Jack grunted. Tell me something I don't know, he thought.
"Now, I suppose you're wondering why I've summoned you," Mr. Clark continued.
"Congratulations Sherlock..." Jack retorted instinctively. Bry humour was natural to him, though he had no idea why. It was met by a thump from the bodyguard and a sharp glare from Mr. Clark.
"...I mean: Yes Sir." he added sarcastically. Mr. Clark gave a pretend smile that was crooked and unnatural; a poor attempt at being friendly.
"Well, we require your skill set you see. You seem a very capable young man, and your allegiance would be useful. You would help keep peace amongst the Human-Sangheili Empire, a vital cog in the workings of universal cohesion." His voice trailed off. Jack said nothing, but maintained fierce eye contact with Clark. What he said was unimportant. It was what he did, or was going to do, was what mattered.
Mr. Clark nodded quickly at the bodyguard, who grunted in response. He threw a punch at Jack, but the quick ODST was ready, and whirled round below the punch, thrusting his knee into the bodyguard's back. He wheeled in pain and Jack hurled him over the desk. He looked back at Mr. Clark, who chuckled maliciously as he stretched a gas mask over his face. Jack spun round and saw green gas being released into the room. It made a sharp hissing noise, like a hundred snakes all flickering their tongues at once. Jack looked back at Clark, who simply raised his eyebrows.
The gas tasted foul like rotten eggs. Jack gagged, and thought about what he should do. Was he going to be killed now, without dignity in an office? It seemed stupid that he should have survived New Jerusalem, Cygnus and faced an entire night alone in occupied New Mombasa, but finally meet his end in a dark office of a frail old man. It was overwhelming. Jack tried to resist, but the influence of the gas was far too strong. He fell to his knees, stared at Mr. Clark for the final few moments. He grimaced and blacked out.
[Edited on 06.06.2010 9:43 AM PDT]