Preface:
This story is written AFTER the events of Chaos Theory, but BEFORE the beginning of Double Agent, anything that happens after Chaos Theory has not, and will not happen in this story! This is just a PREVIEW of an upcoming story, and if you like where it's headed, I'd love to hear from you! It'd be nice to know that someone is interested in what I'm writing at the moment!
Reviews appreciated =]
And as always, I do not own any of this!
Chapter One: Put Your Hands Up
It was another humid night in South Carolina, the air was thick and the heat was intense, even though the sun had long disappeared under the horizon some hours ago. A highway cut through what was for the most part, forest and marshland. The long stretch of road was only disturbed by a seemingly random dirt road, which eventually led to a grubby motel owned by a retired veteran and his wife. Business was usually quite slow with one or two clients a night, often retreating from a long days driving for some rest in a dirty room and sleep on a grubby bed. Tonight there was only one car parked around the back of the 16 room motel, an Opel Astra GXR in ocean blue, a rental company's logo stickered across the doors. Inside room two Fisher Fisher and his 6 year old daughter had settled for the evening in a dirty en suite room, complete with double bed and writing desk.
Sarah was still asleep on the bed curled up in the pink blanket she'd fallen asleep in hours before. Fisher was taking her back to her mother's home in Orlando, Florida. He'd had her for the week while her mother had travelled to a friend's wedding in the Caribbean, and now it was time to take her back. Fisher loved his daughter dearly, but the requirements of the NSA meant that time with her was usually short lived as Third Echelon work was usually sprung on him without warning. Though for the past four weeks the NSA had had no contact with him whatsoever, not so much as a meeting with Lambert or another official. Third Echelon had fortunately kept his time with Sarah undisturbed, but Fisher found this odd, it wasn't like Lambert to leave him alone for more than a week, let alone four.
Fisher sat silently at the writing desk, unable, unwilling to catch some sleep. His iPhone was plugged into his Macbook, which sat next to a loaded and ready, silenced FN – 57 semi automatic pistol. He was reading a news article on the short lived war on North Korea some months before. Admiral Otomo had been put before a United Nations court and confessed his responsibility for the Korean Crisis, what the media didn't report however, was that Fisher had captured him. As expected the government had given the Special Forces no credit in their press releases to the media, instead opting to say that Otomo had handed himself in after U.S Marines had stormed his personal mansion. Fisher sighed and closed his Macbook, he looked over to Sarah who, thumb in mouth, was the picture of innocence. Fisher got up from the desk, pistol in tow, and headed over quietly to the bedside table. He carefully put the safety catch on his weapon and released the magazine into his open hand; he slipped the pistol into the drawer next to the bed and dropped the magazine safely into his pocket. He bent over to kiss Sarah lightly on the forehead, who stirred as he lay next to her, putting his arm around her. Fisher stared up at the ceiling and pondered what the next few weeks would bring, he wondered if he'd hear from Lambert soon, and when he did what sort of world crisis would there be next? Fisher looked over to the clock next to the bed, it was 2am. Time, perhaps, for Fisher to get some sleep, he shut his eyes and he was gone...