Heyo! This is your friendly Neighbourhood writer here to tell you that:
A) I do not Own Penguins of Madagascar because the last time I tried to steal the rights the police gave me a three hour lecture about breaking and entering and then told me that 'rights' are a legal thing and technically can't be stolen.
B) If you like this, please review. It would be super cool of you.
Enjoy :D
They called him Caesar.
And he supposed he didn't mind the title. If anything he was decidedly indifferent towards it. It was, after all, just a title.
And he knew that a title was worthless if there was nothing behind it. He had worked his way up to the top from the bottom, and now it was just the matter of staying there. He had earned very scar on his body and with it the respect of the people around him. But respect could be lost far more quickly then it could be gained, so he had learnt to tread carefully and place his trust in a privileged few. But most importantly he had learnt to identify danger, and more importantly dangerous people.
And they were very dangerous indeed.
Always the rebellious kind, never stopping to ask questions before diving in headfirst, always causing more problems before they solved them. They needed to be controlled before things got out of hand.
He exhaled slowly, relaxing his shoulders to hide the tension, uncurling his fingers until they hung limp at his side. The stars were lovely on clear nights like this, and standing in the board room with the wide glass instead of a wall he could see it all clearly mapped out across the black sweep of the sky. It was enough to calm him the fraction further, make him seem less feverish and desperate, more reliable and level headed.
He turned slowly, hands joining behind his back as he levelled his gaze on the man directly across from him. He was an older man, with stubble on his jaw and carefully groomed salt and pepper hair. His face held the impression of a man who had seen enough to last a lifetime, and was now hiding behind the visage of a banker with deep-set grey eyes and heavy eye-brows. "The Cell I am calling into question is Cell 183." He stated, trying to keep his tone low and smooth. "I believe they have become far too unreliable, and unfit for duty." His hands tightened, and his jaw locked, words coming out as a hiss. "They are⦠Dangerous."
There was a moment of silence, before the older man dipped his head in recognition. "Well then Caesar, I defer all judgement on this matter over to you. You are after all the head of this branch and you have my approval to make this division work through whatever means necessary." He pushed his chair back and stood, collecting his black leather briefcase off the floor as he did, pausing to brush down his suit jacket with his free hand. "However, I must insist upon two things."
Across the room the Marine swallowed, teeth grinding together. "Anything at all." He choked out, trying to keep it all under control.
The man across the room, Stratford, cleared his throat and lifted his head eyes serious and commanding. "There is too be under no circumstances, any blood split that relates directly to or is caused by your decisions. If there is I will not hesitate to remove you from duty." The hard edge of the threat lying in every word he spoke.
"And the other condition?"
"The Final condition is that, if you choose to relieve them of duty they are to disappear." His face was stony by this point, grey eyes expressionless. "There is to be no trace that Cell 183 existed. Make them vanish exactly as they did before."
"Yes sir." He replied, lifting a hand to salute the man that was now turning to leave the room.
"Such a shame." He sighed as he pulled the heavy oak door open, tossing him one last glance over his shoulder. "From what I've heard Cell 183 has been performing well. But never mind me, I trust your good judgement Caesar. Do not let me down."
"I won't sir." He said, but the words were lost behind the solid click of the heavy door falling back into place, leaving him alone in the silence of the room. He turned slowly back to the window and let his eyes wander over the desert landscape and star studded sky.
Everything was back under control. Lined up nicely and neatly exactly the way it should always be. Undoubtedly it would be difficult to make an entire Cell like 183 disappear, but he knew that he could manage. Naturally any witnesses would also have to be taken care of alongside them, but he had time to spare. Nothing had to be rushed.
Carefully he pulled the letter from his breast pocket, not opening it again, but just holding it lightly at his side, careful not to crease the perfectly folded paper. It had been delivered to his desk at 0800 this morning by a perky faced tech promising good news.
She hadn't let him down. The Human testing division of the science development department had finally had a breakthrough after weeks of dead ends and failures. They had the first successful test on a dead patient late the night before, and were now requesting permission to work on willing live patients.
So nothing had to be rushed.
It was just a matter of timing now.
