Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Phantom of the Opera

A New Lead

I walked along the sand covered grounds of the Base. The sun had sat a few hours ago, and the rays of the moon cast a subtle glow on the now cold golden grains that span into infinity. There is a beauty out in those lands that cannot be recreated by any other environment, a beauty which can go unseen due to the blazing sun in the hot, dry mornings.

I inhaled the chilled desert air, and was struck by a gentle aroma that flared in me a deep sense of tranquility. I stopped walking and looked out to the untouched lands outside the Base, and listened to the melodies created by the small critters that inhabited the area.

Nature can be lost on a person who has spend her life in the middle of grand cities, surrounded by the constant sound of roaring engines, horns and sirens. They say that the large cities of the world have incomparable beauties, astonishing sights. Well, whoever said that most certainly had never been out in that desert.

"I have been looking out of this same spot to those lands for years now, and it never gets old," said a man who had walked to my side. He was not a soldier, not one of the roaming guards. He was one of the scientists on the Base. "It's breathtaking, isn't it?"

I nodded as I looked him over. He had piercing black eyes which seemed to light with life at the sight of the sands. Then he tore his eyes away from the land and turned to me. He wanted to say something, but seemed afraid to do so.

"That is what Steward was trying to save. That's why he left."

"You knew Dr. Jansen?"

"He was like a brother to me, which is why I am here. Do not go after him." Desperation had entered his voice. Desperation followed by longing. "I implore you. He has done nothing wrong."

"Why does the army want him if he has done nothing?"

The stranger's eyes closed, hid away behind heavy lids.

"A lot more goes on here then you will ever know," he whispered. "I have to go."

"Wait," I called out as the man turned around and began to walk away. "Stop." He did not. He picked up his pace, his steps became hurried. "I said stop!" I finally screamed.

The man finally stopped, but it had not been because of my orders. A tall, well build man, armed with a black riffle emerged from the darkness. He looked down at the scientist, scanning the man as if he were an insect that he could squish with his polished black boots.

"What are you doing out here?" asked the soldier between clenched teeth. "The Colonel has warned you about your nightly explorations."

I could not see the face the poor man who was being interrogated by the army man, but I could sense the fear that was rushing though every vein in his body. I could picture the man's face: paled and drained of blood.

"He's with me," I screamed as I walked closer to the guard.

"Agent Dawson, you are not authorized to meet with—"

"I will meet with whomever I want," I said, interrupting the man who was twice my size. The solder's eyes flamed in rage at my response. "Now, if you please, the doctor and I were in a middle of a conversation."

"I have been given orders to—"

"Well, here's another order: Get lost.'"

"Agent Dawson, don't," whispered the panic stricken scientist, who turned to look at me.

"I suggest you get back to your room, Agent Dawson before something unfortunate happens."

"Was that a threat?"

"Think of it as advice."

"I will beat myself to death before I take advice from people like you."

"If it's a beating you are looking for then keep talking."

I laughed. The man had a riffle, and years of combat training. Pissing him off was not the smartest thing to do. Yet there I was laughing in his face.

I heard his riffle drop to the floor, making contact with the soft ground. The guard's hand rose in the air, flying though the darkness. I ducked before it could make contact with my face. My fist shot forth, hitting the man where it hurt. His whimpering cries confirmed the damage done to a certain part of his anatomy which I am sure he valued.

The man dropped to his knees, clutched his injured parts. I looked down at him, a smile playing on my lips. But my victory was short lived as I felt the guard's muscular foot make contact with the back of my knee. Next thing I know, my face was flat against the ground, the sand entering my nostrils.

I turned around to find the soldier on top of me, his legs on either side of my waist. His hands grabbed mine, and pinned them above my head. The man leaned forward, his eyes a few inches away from mine.

"I warned you, Agent," he hissed.

"Yes, you did."

My head swung forward, hitting him full force between his eyes. He did not fully release me, but I managed to pry one of my hands from his grasp and used my long nails to scratch his face.

"Bitch!" he screamed as he felt the skin of his face part open and the blood trickling down his cheek. The back of his hand landed on my jaw. Lights flashed before my eyes. For a few seconds the area had become numb, making me question if my jaw was still connected to my face. Then the pain shot full force, spreading though my right side.

"Larson!" screamed another man. "What the fuck are you doing?" It was another guard. "Do you want to get suspended?" The guard I had been fighting with was pulled off by whoever had just arrived. "You're already on probation, you thick fuck."

The new guard turned to me. I saw his hand in front of me, his fingers stretched out, offering help. I looked up at him in defiance, ignoring his hand. I got up myself, my eyes never leaving the image of the two men.

"Are you alright, Agent Dawson?" I said nothing, instead stared at the soldier by the name of Larson. His hand covered the new decorative streaks that adored his face. "I should get you to the infirmary—"

"No. What you can do is give me the name of the doctor who comes out here at night."

"I'm afraid I cannot d—"

"The name or I'll report your little friend."

"You fucking—" began Larson as he moved to attack me again. He was stopped by his friend.

"Cool it," screamed his friend. "Get back to your post, Larson. Now."

Larson picked up the discarded riffle and vanished back into the darkness he had come from. When he was out of my sight, I allowed my hand to rise to my cheek and assess the swollen area. I hissed in pain at the contact. The bastard had managed to do a real number on my jaw.

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked the guard.

"I'm fine," I snapped. "I need that name."

"I don't know his name—"

"What is it with you people and denial!" I screamed. "I am getting tired of hearing those words!"

"I don't know his name," he repeated, "but I can take you to him IF you promise not to mention what happened here."

"Fine." The words had not been enough for the soldier continued to stare at me. "I promise."

"And…if anyone asks—"

"I won't tell anyone about the two of you."

The soldier scanned the area around us before turning to me.

"This way."

Finally I was making some headway. I now wish I had just stayed away from it all, that I had ignored that scientist. It was all about luck, and as everything else in this world, it came with a price tag. It turned out I was fresh out of cash at that moment.