Author's Notes: Yes, it's been ages since I last posted chapter 8. You might want to go back and skim through the first chapters if you can't remember what has occurred to date. I promise that I am well beyond Chapter 9 in regards to writing, and hope to have the entire story posted before the 1 year anniversary of the first chapter being uploaded. Happy Valentine's Day to you all!
Chapter 9
The new COA recruits were uncharacteristically animated that evening. Like Lucas, they'd all had their first taste in their assigned fields of expertise, and for the most part their training wasn't as physical as the first few weeks. They were all excited to share their new experiences, and Tony especially was in awe of the state of the art aquatics center, and couldn't wait to tell his roommate about it. Piccolo's gills were not widely known amongst the group – per the suggestion of his mentor, the Olympic swimmer and head of the COA's aquatics division – and he didn't want to share that little surprise over dinner. He was hardly able to contain his amazement of the equipment, training program, and facilities, and Lucas knew that his friend had a whole lot more he was dying to share with his crewmate. Most of their cohorts had equally exhilarating experiences – or promises of – and were eager to share.
Compared to Sam and Liz's description of new and unique firearms they were going to be trained on along their path to becoming covert agents, and Andre's description of the explosives detonation instruction, Lucas didn't feel as though his experience with the Agency's computer and security hub would elicit the same response with the rest of the recruits. Almost as if she could read his mind, Anna smiled knowingly at Lucas then turned her attention to Dominic who was describing his own experience of the day. Of course. He hadn't seen Anna in HQ today – which was hardly a surprise since he'd spend most of his time underground – but she'd most certainly been holed up within the confines of that building as well. She was recruited to the COA for her background in public relations and communications, and was probably afraid that her field of expertise could not compete on the same 'excitement scale' as the rest of them.
After an unusually lengthy meal in the dining hall, Lucas, Dom and Tony headed back towards the dormitory. True to Piccolo's character, the Warrant Officer had managed to establish semi-regular poker nights in the common room and tonight was one of those nights. To date, they'd only managed to squeeze a handful in, as most nights they were just too exhausted to do anything other than stumble into bed. The game this evening was just like any other at the COA. The recruits had no money to bet with – thanks to the inability to get off campus or to maintain contact with the outside world – and were playing with a stash of poker chips Tony had scrounged up. Lucas wasn't exactly sure where they'd come from, but knowing his friend, it could be from anyone in the COA. The guy was persuasive and it didn't take him long to make fast friends with strangers. To sweeten the pot this evening, Piccolo had convinced Hetty, the dining hall manager and head baker, to give him a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. All he'd given her in return was a cheeky wink. Lucas shook his head in wonder. That man could charm his way out of any situation.
With the smell of the cookies wafting through the air, the trio hurried into their room to put their gear away for the night. Lucas was about finished organizing his clothes and books for the next day, when he noticed Piccolo digging frantically through his footlocker.
"Your locker's a mess, Tony. What'd you lose this time?"
Piccolo pulled a twisted pile of shirts and socks from his belongings and scowled at Lucas. "I can't find my lucky poker hat."
"I can't believe you even packed that thing, let alone think you could find it in that disaster zone." Lucas chuckled.
"I never travel anywhere without my lucky hat." Then, in a growl, "Don't mock the hat, Wolenczak."
"Fine." His roommate grinned. "Are you sure you put it in there?"
"Of course." Tony turned back to the now almost empty locker, and started inside. "It might be a mess to you, Luke, but is my organized mess. I know exactly where everything is - well, most of the time."
He scratched his head and addressed both his roommates. "Do you guys ever feel like your stuff just isn't where you put it? I swear I'm not paranoid, but lately I've been finding my stuff just - - out of place."
Lucas stared at the contents of his own locker. While he'd been an absolute slob in his youth – pretty much anyone on his first tour with seaQuest could attest to that – he had made a conscious effort to maintain UEO standards for soldiers, since he'd enlisted. Hell, he'd even cleaned up his act during the first year he'd been forced to bunk with Piccolo. One slob in a room was enough. At least Piccolo had always managed to keep his mess contained within his lockers and trunk. He glanced over the orderly contents of his locker – each item assigned its place on the top shelf, and the clothes folded below – not noticing anything out of place. No. Nothing seemed out of place or even slightly adjusted in position.
"Nope. Sorry Tony. Just you."
"Actually," Dom piped in, "now that you've mentioned it, yeah."
Both Piccolo and Lucas stared at their roommate who'd been pretty quiet up to that point.
"It's nothing very big, you know," he shrugged. "Just, every now and again, I get the sense that something has moved. Weird, I know, but I always figured it was me just being absentminded because I was so tired."
"Huh." Tony shot Lucas a patented 'I told you so glare,' and then responded to the COA agent who was currently re-training for a new role. "This happen at all the last time you went through training? Maybe the trainers dig through our stuff, for, you know, anything we aren't supposed to have?"
"Not that I remember, but I wouldn't have thought of it if you hadn't mentioned it, Tony."
Lucas wasn't sure what was going on. He wouldn't put it passed their training instructors – Chief in particular – to do random locker searches, but surely those usually occur with the recruit present? He wasn't exactly sure what took place during Army boot camp or the Navy's basic training, so he couldn't compare this situation to those, but if any of the old movies he'd seen were half accurate, the whole point of those spot checks was to do so in front of the new soldier.
"Yes!"
Lucas turned his attention back to Tony, who was at present wielding the previously missing lucky hat in the air.
"Got it! Now I can play some poker."
Dom and Lucas just grinned as their friend jammed the worn and dirty old visor on his head. The only thing missing was a cigar – something Tony had always managed to dig up on seaQuest, but not something he'd been able to find on COA's campus. Piccolo grabbed the cookies that he'd placed on Lucas' bunk, and sauntered out of the room – complete with a cocky swagger.
Dom had managed to change into his COA issued sweats in the short time Tony had been digging through his personal belongings, and followed the self-proclaimed king of poker towards the common area. Lucas just shook his head, smiling to himself, and pulled out a clean t-shirt and sweatpants for himself.
The game didn't drag on as long as he suspected it might. Lucas had bowed out relatively early, not really up to putting on his best poker face. While he knew that he could beat Tony just by bluffing, he really wasn't into it. Instead, he sat with the others only half watching as Piccolo, Sam, and Niko duked it out for the final prize. He found himself sitting a little taller in his seat when the topic shifted from their assigned fields to the current mood of the Agency. Most of the questions were directed at Dom, their resident COA expert, who was attempted to answer them as best as possible. Apparently, the news of the missing agents had spread, and as new recruits, this group wanted to know what had happened.
"So, they just disappeared? Like, just poof, off the radar?" Anna queried.
"Well, it doesn't quite work like that." Dom rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Each agent is assigned a handler, and that handler maintains regular contact with his agents. Sometimes they communicate via vidlink – which is rare – but most of the time it's through a system the handler develops for that particular assignment. The more risky the embedded assignment, the more creative the handler has to be in coming up with a means of communicating without letting the agent's cover slip." Dom paused. "In this case, three of the missing agents have been confirmed as dead."
An audible gasp came from Anna.
"It's part of the job, Anna. You join the COA knowing that your life can be in danger at any moment. Of course, for those in HQ," he glanced at Lucas quickly, "the risk is minimal. However, the covert agents know that any assignment could be their last. It's the risk they are willing to make for their country – for the UEO."
"What about the fourth agent?" This time, it was Andre who was asking the question.
"I don't know."
"You don't know if she's dead, or you haven't heard anything?" Sam's voice could be heard from the poker table, the players' easy banter now halted.
"Listen, I'm a recruit now. I'm not privy to the details like I was as a logistical tech. All I know is that she's missing, and has been for a while now. Her handler hasn't been able to get in contact with her, or find any intel on her whereabouts, but they also haven't received word that she's been made."
"They know why so many agents have been compromised recently?" Sam again, and Lucas perked up. He was getting very close to the very reason the Agency was on high alert.
"I don't know. I'm not sure. They are looking into it – checking all the handlers out – but right now, there are just a lot of questions and not too many answers. Like I said, I'm not really getting any info first hand anymore. Just word of mouth, you know?" It was evident that they weren't going to get anything more out of Dom that night.
The mood of the gathering had abruptly changed from being rather upbeat and lively, to being much more somber. It was hard to joke around when you knew that three members of the same agency you were hoping to join had just lost their lives on the job. Lucas could see it in their faces. Some of the recruits – Anna and Niko in particular – appeared somewhat concerned as to what they'd signed up for, while others had the look of resigned acceptance. Sam and Liz were on the path to becoming covert agents. In their previous roles within other government agencies, they'd placed their lives on the line on a regular basis. It was something they'd long ago committed to doing. Likewise, danger was not a foreign concept to most of the other recruits. Andre risked his life every time he detonated a bomb for his police department, and Niko had been a medic on the frontline of more than one battlefield.
"Well, I don't know about you all, but I think I'm going to hit the sack." Dom declared, pushing himself to standing. "Sorry for being such a downer, guys. I'll let you know if I find anything else out."
One by one, the rest of the group filed out of the common area, the two women turning towards the women's hall, while the men turned to the opposite door.
It wasn't long before the three roommates crawled into bed. Without a doubt, each of them would regret the later than usual night when they were woken up at the crack of dawn for PT. At least they didn't have a full day of grueling physical pain ahead of them. Lucas was a little intrigued by their first session the next day: Tactical and Strategic Extraction. Rumor had it that part of that training was focused in the classroom on understanding the minutia of details needed to successfully complete a complicated extraction in enemy territory. The second part – probably in the weeks to come – allowed them to take part in both planning and executing extraction simulations. While he was definitely looking forward to getting back into the Command center within the HQ building, extractions training sounded exceptionally intriguing. He wasn't sure if it was because of his experience escaping from Macronesia, or their frequent need to get out of tight situations on seaQuest, but he imagined the skills learned in this session would prove to be valuable in the future.
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Oliver Hudson sat alone at the oval table in the Captain's Quarters. Despite the late hour, he had files to review and documents to sign. He sighed. If he could just delegate this part of his job to his Ex-O, he'd be a much happier man. Unfortunately, there were some tasks he couldn't hand off to his crew. Hudson pulled the first of the files up on the screen and scrolled to the appropriate section. While he didn't care much for paperwork, he was taking advantage of the lull in activity to get ahead of the game. Their brief foray into Indonesian waters had proved nothing more than the obligatory showboating required when high-level government officials wanted to impress each other. Hudson loathed those assignments, and other than getting the chance to restock the boat's supplies – an opportunity they couldn't afford to pass up – the trip was not really worth the cost in energy and fuel.
He was almost relieved to hear O'Neill's voice over the room's intercom, giving him a chance to take a breather from the mundane paperwork.
"Sir, I have Captain Bridger on the line."
Hudson sighed again. He was pretty sure he knew what the retired captain had to say to him. "Put him through, Mr. O'Neill."
"Aye Captain."
Almost immediately, Nathan Bridger's face took form on the large monitor, blocking the text that had been there previously.
"Nathan, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Cut the crap, Oliver." Bridger was visibly annoyed and wasn't interested in pleasantries this late at night. "You want to tell me what you've done with Lucas?"
"I'm not sure what you are inferring, Nathan. He and Tony Piccolo were offered a place in the current class at OCS." Hudson could tell immediately that the former captain of seaQuest was not fooled.
"I know he's not there, Oliver. After I didn't hear from him for a few days, I contacted seaQuest. I was a little surprised to learn that he'd been sent off to Rhode Island the same day he came back aboard – with Tony Piccolo of all people. You and I both know, Oliver, that the UEO has no intention of ever promoting an ex-con to an officer position, no matter how much he matures or proves that he's earned it." Bridger placed his hands behind his back, pacing across the screen. "I put my suspicions aside and made a few calls. Imagine my surprise when I contacted my old Academy buddy – an instructor there – only to find that neither Lucas nor Tony were enrolled." He leaned towards the monitor. "Then today, I received an anonymous email from an unknown IP address, apologizing for his lack of contact. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who sent it. I'm pretty sure you know exactly where he is, Oliver, and don't lie to me this time."
Hudson took a minute to size up the former captain of his boat. Despite his position as a retired officer, Bridger still was a man with friends in high places. Regardless, the current captain of seaQuest was not in a position to share the ensign's current assignment with anyone. This was one situation where he and Bridger might see eye-to-eye. Neither of them was very happy with Lucas being placed on active duty so soon after his abduction, and Hudson didn't trust Harrington – or Roberts, whatever he was going by these days – to return his men in one piece.
"I won't lie to you, Nathan. Anything I tell you is strictly classified and none of my crew are aware that Wolenczak and Piccolo are anywhere other than OCS."
"So where are they?"
"I can't tell you. What I will say is that they were specifically selected to take part in an assignment, which is not associated with seaQuest. I can't tell you where they are, who requested them, or what they are doing. What I can tell you is that they will both be returned within the next few weeks."
"I'm not happy about this, Oliver."
"Off the record, neither am I, Nathan."
"That's not very reassuring." Bridger's brows were raised. He hadn't expected that amount of honesty from seaQuest's captain.
Hudson leaned back against his chair, debating how much more he could get away with. "Don't go digging around UEO Headquarters for more information, Nathan. You aren't going to find what you're looking for. Just trust that I have their best interests in mind and if I had any idea that they were being placed on a mission above their capacity, I'd never let them go."
"Fine. I'll let this go for now, but I'll be in touch, Oliver."
"I wouldn't expect anything less, Nathan. Out." He touched the button severing their connection. As always, Hudson was taken aback at how vastly different he and Bridger had captained the seaQuest. While he preferred to run a military boat, with set lines between ranks, Nathan Bridger had taken a completely different approach. He was much more likely to take the opinions of much lower ranking officers, and used his heart more so than his head to guide actions. Hudson didn't scoff at this approach rather, he blamed it on the current conflict. Brigder had the time to develop relationships with his crew over the course of their first two tours. They didn't have to contend with a rising adversary and increasing conflicts within the seas. No, these were different times and there was no room for a soft figure in charge. If Bridger had remained the captain of this boat, Hudson was almost certain that the older man would have hardened with time. This was a world on the verge of war. There was no time for science and exploration on the seas.
Captain Hudson was just about to put the paperwork aside for the night, when his PAL beeped again.
"Captain Hudson. Sorry to disturb you again, sir."
"What is it, Mr. O'Neill?"
"Secretary General McGath needs to speak with you. He says it's urgent, sir."
"Put him through on a secure channel."
"Aye Captain."
Again, an image appeared on the screen. Like Bridger, the Secretary General did not look very happy.
"Secretary General, what can I do for you?"
"Sorry for the late call, Captain. We've just caught wind of a possible conflict between two mining colonies – both UEO – off the coast of Bolivia. Because of their location, we can't allow any lapse in vigilance. We both know how that Macronesia has been looking for any opportunity to move into close proximity of North America for years."
The Secretary General looked grim and Hudson understood why. After seaQuest disappeared, the Macronesian Alliance, under Alexander Bourne's leadership, had used their newly developed Lysander class submarines to liquefy large landmasses in the hopes of gaining control of most of the world's valuable resources. The use of this weapon, in addition to increased world temperatures caused by global climate change, had cause a catastrophic and never before seen rise in sea levels. As a result, Central America, and a large portion of South America had been lost, including Chile, and most of Peru. Not only would a move into South American waters be a coup in terms of getting their hands on valuable natural resources but also, Bourne would benefit from their strategic location. If South American would fall to Macronesian hands, they would be a stone throw away from North America and the heart of the UEO. This was not a risk the UEO was willing to take.
"And the UEO wants seaQuest to head down there to act as a mediator, or as a warning to Bourne?"
"Oliver, we both know that seaQuest is the only boat in our fleet that could deter the Macronesians from moving in. We want you to transport a small convoy of conflict resolution mitigators to a secondary location, where negotiations will take place. SeaQuest will stay positioned close enough to the colonies to respond if any threat is suspected."
"And this convoy?"
"Has already set off in a transport vehicle and is headed towards San Diego. You will meet them at 0700 hours tomorrow."
"Well, we'd best change our coordinates then." Hudson wasn't happy with this new assignment. The last thing he wanted to do was escort a bunch of dignitaries on a pleasure cruise and then babysit them for weeks on end. However, the possibility of the Macronesian Alliance taking advantage of the UEO's weakness was too great.
"McGath out."
The Secretary General's image was replaced with the black screen. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about filling his time completing paperwork right now. They were going to need to change their course immediately if seaQuest was going to make it to the rendezvous point in nine hours. Captain Hudson stood, adjusted his uniform and strode out of his quarters towards the Bridge. He'd have to call his primary crew back into rotation early than expected, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for seaQuest.
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Dark. Black. Acrid smoke. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? He reached for his face, to push whatever was blocking his nose and mouth, but his hands wouldn't move. Trapped. He was trapped. Oh god, was he back? Did they have him again? He couldn't see! Why couldn't he see? He froze. Noises. Scraping, shuffling, a pounding. Louder and louder. He tried harder to pull his hands free. They refused to budge. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Gasping for air. Was that smoke? Fire. Fire! He had to get out of there. Before they took him. Before he was taken prisoner. Must break free! There. Someone was at the door. A light. He could see a line of light. He felt himself crawling back, pushing against a hard surface. He gasped, unable to draw in a full breath. Bang. Thud. The door flung open. A body dropped at his feet. Oh god! It can't be. It can't be - -
Lucas' eyes shot open, darting around the dark room, searching for anything he could recognize - something comforting. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust and the relief he felt when he saw the familiar outline of the bunks and COA furniture was almost palatable. His heart was racing and his skin clammy. He could barely move on the bed, his blankets twisted and wrapped around his limbs in knots. He wasn't sure if he'd made any noise, but he was breathing heavily. Adrenaline was coursing through his body to the point where he knew he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep for a while.
Like most of the nightmares he'd suffered, this one left him with nothing but blurry images and vague emotions. No matter how hard he tried, he could never remember exactly what he experienced in those dreams. He just knew that he was frightened, shocked, and lately he felt the weight of grief in his heart for hours after he woke. This nightmare was no different. He wanted to remember, but at the same time, wanted the dreams to go away for good. He'd hoped that time would lessen their intensity, and for a while they'd gotten much better. He wasn't waking up multiple times a night, and he was pretty sure his roommates would have mentioned it if he'd woken up screaming. He didn't think their response would be as calm and reassuring as Captain Bridger's had been.
He slowly pulled himself free, trying not to wake his roommates. It was no wonder he'd felt caged in his dream. He was literally bound by his own bed linens. Swinging his legs over the side of the bottom bunk, he felt in the dark for his shoes and hoodie. As per his usual routine, he'd put them out the night before in preparation for the rush to get ready in the morning. Lucas' luck didn't quite hold up as he tripped over something on the floor – Tony's shoes? – in an attempt to get out of the room before alerting Piccolo or Dom. He paused. He could hear a rustling coming from the older man's bed before Dom sat up.
"Lucas?" The COA recruit was confused and not completely awake. "What are you doing?" He squinted at the younger man who had frozen in place near the door.
This was enough to rouse Piccolo, who was usually an incredibly heavy sleeper. Lucas could hear a moan from the top bunk.
"Please don't tell me it's time to get up already," the muffled words of a man who desperately still wanted to sleep.
"No, Tony. Go back to sleep."
"Where are you going?" Dom was definitely more awake now.
"I can't sleep. Just going to get some fresh air."
"You okay, Luke?"
Piccolo now appeared much more alert, and Lucas groaned inwardly. He had not wanted to wake either of them, and he'd managed to wake both.
"I'm fine, Tony."
"Another nightmare?"
His friend's head peered over the edge of the top bunk, concern written across his features.
Lucas was caught by surprise. Another nightmare? He hadn't been aware that his roommates had noticed. Neither had mentioned it at all since they'd been bunking in the same room. He hadn't even had one night back on seaQuest, before he and Piccolo had been sent out here.
"Go back to bed, Tony."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yes!"
His friend gave him an incredulous look, but the call of his bed must have been stronger than his suspicions. Lucas was relieved to see Tony slip back down under the covers. It wouldn't be long before the room was silent again. He opened the door quietly – in the hopes that he wouldn't wake the rest of the men on this hall – and moved towards the now dark and empty common area.
He didn't bother to turn the lights on. By this point, his eyes had already acclimated to the dark. Instead, Lucas moved to the door dividing the common area from the stairs. He wasn't bluffing when he'd said he wanted some fresh air. The reality was that these nightmares made him feel trapped in close confines. What he needed was some space. It was hard to feel caged when you were standing outside with the cold biting through your clothes and turning your nose red. He pushed against the door, expecting it to give way with little resistance, only to find that it wouldn't budge. He pushed harder, not willing to concede that it wasn't lack of force keeping the door closed. Again, nothing.
Looking closer, Lucas was somewhat stunned to find that the lock had been engaged. While someone who had some skill and a thin wire could probably pick the old-fashioned piece of technology with ease, it wouldn't have an affect on the more modern security lock Lucas had failed to notice before. Of course, he'd never tried to leave the building in the middle of the night and hadn't bothered to examine the door over the course of time he's spent on COA's campus. For the most part, the recruits were too tired to do more than stumble through the door and head for their beds.
He was frustrated and confused, and Lucas could feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface. What right did they have to lock them in the building at night? Did they seriously think the recruits were going to stage a coup and walk out of there? There was nowhere to go, no transportation, and no one knew they were even there. The only thought that crossed his mind as a possibility was that they suspected one of the new recruits to be the mole. That would be ridiculous. They were new to the agency. Hell, most of them didn't even know this covert operation of the UEO even existed before they were recruited.
Lucas leaned in closer to the door, examining the state-of-the-art lock, which had been well camouflaged along the doorframe. If he had the right tools and a bit of time, he could almost bet he'd be able to crack it without a problem. Before he had a moment to contemplate actually following through with the thought, a voice was piped into the common room.
"Mr. Wolenczak. I suggest you go back to bed."
Lucas looked up with a start. He scanned the walls, searching for the camera but not seeing it. He'd bet it was artfully hidden, like so many of the other motion sensors and cameras on Campus. He didn't recognize the voice, but that wasn't surprising. He hadn't met the majority of the COA staff.
In a voice that sounded alarmingly loud in the quiet building, Lucas responded. "I just need to get some fresh air. Can you unlock the door please?"
"No. Go back to bed."
"Is there a reason we're locked in?"
"Safety reasons, recruit. Return to your room. That's an order."
Safety reasons? Safety reasons? They've got to be kidding. They were in lockdown in a building that was located on a highly secure property – that no one knew existed – out in the middle of rural Maine. Were they afraid the last of the country's carnivores were going to come looking for a late night snack? There was definitely something going on. This whole place was on red alert all the time, and it couldn't just be the result of a suspected mole in their midst. Lucas stood there, silently contemplating his options. He could keep pushing the security guard, but that would probably not end up being very fruitful. What he'd learned so far on this assignment is that while the COA appeared more laid back then the UEO and other military branches, they were driven by rules that every agent stoically followed. Or, he could go back to bed, try to fall asleep and approach Roberts directly about being held prisoner in the dormitory at night. Neither sounded very appealing, but regardless, he was going to discuss this with his mentor the next day.
Lucas took a last glance at the locked door and turned back towards the men's hall. He was not happy about this. The nightmare had left him feeling as though the walls were closing in on him and he didn't want to go back to the small, cramped room. If he were lucky, he'd manage to get a little sleep before they were forced up for PT. He knew the nightmares would not return tonight. They never did after he was jolted awake. He just didn't know if he would be able to close his eyes right now. Regardless, he ambled reluctantly back to his room and quietly toed his sneakers off. Slipping back under the covers, he pulled his right arm behind his head and stared at the bunk above. Tomorrow, he'd probably find out if his message was caught before it got to Captain Bridger. If not, he'd have to have a long conversation with the CIO, Joe Harper.
