Hey, lookie there, a disclaimer! It says that 16DarkMidnight80 doesn't own anything but the plot and the OC, Colonel Thana Kalu, United States Marine Corps. Too bad that the author doesn't own Transformers. It's a sad day in history now. Shoot.
Guess what everyone, and I'm ashamed of myself that I didn't notice or realize this earlier, but April 9th was very special. It was National Prisoner of War Remembrance Day. No, I'm not just saying this because the character is one, but it is a very important event, one that we mustn't forget. Now you know why I feel so ashamed of myself.
Don't forget about those past, present, and future, in and out of uniform. They're risking their lives so we can live happily. Don't ever forget that. They are heroes who don't need capes, because real superheroes appear to be just ordinary people.
Long beginning, and for once, I'm not sorry in the least. Hope you like this next chapter of Shadows and Gold.
Chapter 2
Turning on my heel, I was only faintly surprised to see two men near the closed door. I had intentionally assumed that there was only one, but I didn't live as long as I did underestimating any and all potential enemies. They must have walked in tandem, making their footsteps seem as if a single person only made it.
"Colonel Kalu?" asked the taller man, voice deep. I took their appearances in before I answered.
The shorter man was dressed semi-casually. He had khaki pants with a white shirt and silver sport coat. The taller man was in nice black slacks and white button down dress shirt, but no tie. They both had sunglasses on, but the shorter man's were sportier looking.
The first had darker skin, just shy of being as dark as I was. The other, however, was a lightly tanned Caucasian. They both had hair a shade darker than brown sugar.
"Who's asking?" I replied with a question of my own. The shorter man's lips twitched as he visibly fought a smile or smirk. The other didn't seem fazed, nor did I.
"We are here for your interview," the man answered. I nodded and grabbed my wallet, stuffing it into one of my larger pockets lower on my leg. I nodded and they stepped away from the door to let me walk through first.
We continued down the hall to the elevator, not speaking another word. It arrived quickly and we stepped in, and the darker skinned man punched in the button to go down to the ground level. As I checked out at the nurse's station, the taller man left to go to the designated place first, while the other stayed behind with me. He offered me a warm, excited smile as we left the sterile building. He became increasingly giddier as we approached what I assumed to be his car. It was a sleek silver Porsche Carrera GT. With a cheeky grin, he opened the passenger door open, only wincing slightly as I glared at him. I am still capable of opening a door by myself.
It was only a short drive to a small café a few minutes away from the hospital. Not many people were there, seeing as it wasn't even noon yet, and it was the middle of the week. The other man was already sitting in the back in a booth, sipping a steaming cup of coffee.
We walked to the booth, the other man sliding in beside the first and I sat by myself on the other side. A waitress came up and took our orders before leaving again. Still, we didn't talk until she returned with our drinks and left to attend to more customers.
"You still haven't told me who you are," I pointed out, taking a drink of my water. "Or what you want of me."
"You may call me Sean, and this is Jack," the tallest said. "We came to evaluate you and see if you would be an asset in our organization." Every word Sean said was spoken with the experience of a diplomat. He picked his words carefully and it seemed like he had quite a strong filter between his brain and his mouth. At times, I must admit, that has failed me in the past. Nothing incriminating has gotten past, but there may have been one or two times when I was but a child and I accidently said something that got me grounded. And back then, I didn't sit in a corner, I was thrown in the brig. A great childhood experience, am I right?
That was said with much sarcasm, if you didn't catch it.
"I have a feeling those aren't your real names," I said, my eye never leaving them. Something stiffened in their expressions, telling me I hit the mark. Me, one; the fakers, zero.
"And why do you assume that?" Sean asked, and I knew that his eyes were boring into my face, despite the fact that they were still hidden by the dark sunglasses.
"I'm sure you can think of multiple reasons, sirs," I replied coolly. "You surely read the file my CO sent in. However, it was not provided in what he had put in it. Do tell what you know of me, so we are on the same page." Eyebrows quirked upwards, I knew that I had surprised them. I'm smarter than I look; trust me.
Jack slapped the file on the table. It was a plain manila folder, and quite thin, too. I reached for it, twirling it so I could read it upright. No photos were among the few pages. It described in great detail how good I was at my job, at my qualities, but gave hardly any background information. Nothing specific about missions was posted in among the reports, and nothing about my life before I was officially accepted into the Marine Corps. It mentioned that my parents were both in the service before dying in the line of duty, but didn't name their ranks or names.
After reviewing the information given to me, I turned my gaze back up to the two men sitting before me, calmly drinking their coffee. I closed the file silently, sliding it back to them, and Jack took it almost immediately.
"You want to know of my missions, what I did, when I did them, and so on, am I correct?" But I didn't let them answer. "I will not tell you anything, as it is still all classified. However, I will try my hardest to sincerely answer any and all questions you pose to me."
For a couple hours, we sat there, discussing what this organization was and what it wanted from me. How I would benefit from it, and vice versa. Eventually, though, we reached an agreement. In three days, I would be able to be discharged from the hospital, and Jack would pick me up. From Norfolk, we would go to the airport on base, where a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird would fly us out into the Indian Ocean. A small group of islands, Diego Garcia, which is where their headquarters were, and I was needed on the base at all times.
They would pay me, and I could in turn use my pay to buy essentials. They would be flown or shipped to me for free, courtesy of the United States government. Jack drove me back to Norfolk, where I checked back in, and I was again left alone to mull over what had all happened.
My life had changed, and drastically so. Eight months ago, I was sitting in a dirt prison cell, a POW. Five years and eight months ago, I was on a mission, one that was one of my more secretive missions. It was on this highly dangerous mission that I was caught and tortured for five years. Now, in the span of two and half hours, I had a secure government job, and I was actually able to retain my title of a Marine Colonel. I was going to live permanently out of the United States, but I hardly ever remembered being on the mainland that I was a citizen of.
Sitting on the uncomfortable bed, I stared out the window, the sun disappearing behind dark grey clouds. A storm was coming, but I had always loved the rain, so it didn't bother at all. Lightning flashed in the dark clouds, thunder accompanying it a minute later. It was still a distance away, but it was cruising this way.
Within the hour, the storm hit with fury. Wind lashed against the powerful walls of the building, rain pelting harshly against the glass windows. Lightning stretched across the sky, thunder right behind the flashes. The sky became even darker as the night came closer. The entire time, for all those hours until 22:49, I sat by the window, staring outside. My thoughts drifted from one subject to another, not lingering over any one topic.
Life had changed, but I accepted the change and would embrace it. As of now, however, I was content to relax. I had always found solstice in storms, seeing as they comforted me in an odd way. I was never one to cower under the sheets when the first of lightning made itself known. Instead, from what my parents and the SEALs told me, the first storm I witnessed, no one could put me to bed.
Apparently, I had stayed up the entire night, utterly captivated by the powerful storm that ravaged the desert. I actually growled menacingly at my parents when they came to collect me, so I could get some sleep. After that episode, they always let me stay up, seeing how much it calmed me.
It was always hard to get me to relax. Being born and growing up in multiple warzones always left me on edge. It was in storms that I found solstice, often just standing in the downpour, gaze locked on the menacing clouds above. I would get completely soaked, but no one dared called me in. This was my time, and they understood and respected that.
Eventually, I changed and crawled into the bed, still picking up the sounds of a dying rainstorm. Comforted for the time being, my golden-amber eye closed, and I fell into the sweet oblivion that was deep sleep.
I bet you all can guess at whom 'Sean' and 'Jack' are. And if you can't, don't worry. If this wasn't my story, I would most likely have a brain fart and not be able to figure it out. If you have any ideas or comments, PM me or leave them in the reviews. I would like to know what you all think of this story so far. I'll try to have another chapter up soon, I just have to be in the mood and have an idea strike me like a bolt of lightning.
I will, in later chapters, explain everything, or almost everything. I have plans for Thana and storms, but I'm not sure where or when I'll incorporate it into the story.
I guess that's all, my viewers. Enjoy and I'll try to post again soon. In the mean time, if you want, you can check out my other stories and leave reviews. I can't tell you have excited I get when I see and read the reviews. Have a great day, everybody!
