Chapter 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Alien/Predator series or any characters and may not follow all customs and cultures found in Alien/Predator movies.
Everything was dark, the ache made way to new pain. She replayed the last moments before losing consciousness. That humanoid figure who stood, killing those monsters. She thought it was the end and refused to fall asleep, knowing that moment could be the end.
Please . . .
The voice was human but awfully groggy and unnatural, reminding me of one generated by a computer, the intent behind it was different, full of emotion . . . worried, maybe scared.
Help her . . .
Sara heard it grow, fueling the urge to move. She attempted the simplest command but her fingers barely moved an inch, her body weighed down despite feeling nothing. As the voice continued its unwavering chant, her strength, surprisingly, was returning. After minutes of floating in the darkness, her consciousness slowly returned.
"Sara?"
Her eyes opened but it took longer to perceive her surroundings, a white room with the monitor beeping constantly. So annoying.
"Are you alright?"
She tilted her head, a nurse toying with the fluid bag attached via needle in her arm, small commotions heard outside the room. She wanted to fall asleep again, but her impulse drove her to stand.
Sara tried but the attendant pressed on her shoulder, "Relax. You still haven't recovered."
"I need . . . to get up," She grunted mid-sentence, the pain in her arm dulled but her shoulder was excruciating. She reached to touch the bandage, stung at the slightest touch like a hot iron. Her forearm was also wrapped but noticed light red ooze seeping through. The nasty bite did some serious damage to cause this. Imagine my shoulder.
"You need to lay down, Lieutenant Gilson," The nurse used all of her strength, it worked little to keep Sara down, shrugging away on the restraints. Her toes barely touching the ground, the trembling made it difficult to control her movements.
"Lay down, Lieutenant. That's an order."
Sara and the nurse glanced at a cracked door, Evans pushing through with a dominating presence. The woman nodded, got her things and left the room as if understanding with no words exchanged, leaving Sara and Evans alone.
The air was particularly heavy with an unknown silence between them but Sara saluted regardless. The order he gave was absolute, laying back with some reluctance. She sighed densely, "Commander General."
He nodded, "How are you feeling?"
"Well enough to move," Sara lied, her shoulder and arm were starting to burn, going numb from her attempt to stand. It wasn't her place to complain about her injuries, "I'll be returning to my duties soon."
Sara noticed a slight cringe at the corner of his lips, his eyes hung heavily, "You should rest. Your injuries were severe and General Woodhurst has your assignments covered."
She watched him leave, inches from passing the frame, "What happened to me?"
Evans stopped, the moment almost frozen in time until she saw the small details. His fingers curled to form a fist, his shoulders slightly shook and breathing went shallow.
Sara spoke, "I want to know, Sir."
There was brief silence and then Evans swallowed, "It's nothing to be too concerned about."
"Hell it isn't."
The words escaped her mouth before she could stop, the fire of her resolve burning away common sense and any manners of military respect for a moment. Her intuition, though, refused to comply, the desire to understand the unrealistic events of last night. The look of hesitation on Evan's face was enough to give an answer to her question.
"Sara . . ." His voice soothing when he spoke, his hand reached to stroke her palm. The moment he did, she flinched away in inner disgust. What's his problem?
Whether it was to deter her or something else, she didn't like it one bit. The air surrounding him changed to a thick fog that she didn't like. Although his face remained stoic, she sensed a hidden threat behind it, darkness swirling in his eyes.
Scooting up to sit back, Sara ignored the jabbing sensations in her shoulder, chin raised to express determination, "If you won't tell me, I'll speak with General Woodhurst myself."
She played the only loophole she had, one that granted her jurisdiction to get answers without high retribution at least. Evans knew that too well and Sara hoped it would be enough.
Finally, he relented, lowering his face, "I'll arrange for a private meeting between General Woodhurst and us on this matter,"He got up from the edge of the bed and began to head out, "But I can't guarantee he'll comply so expect the worst. I'll check in with you tomorrow."
She didn't miss the disappointment as he left, no doubt he was going to say something about the incident. It didn't matter, she had to check with the General anyway about Brad's actions, although he might have caught wind of it. That bastard better get his ass kicked or else—
Her shoulder stung again, her nerves shocked when a wave of electricity extended to her neck, forcing her to fall onto the bed. "Shit!"
"Don't worry, Sara. We'll get you fixed up in no time." The nurse smiled, taking the old bandages and replacing them with new ones. Sara closed her eyes, waiting for sleep as her veins filled with cold liquid.
In the blackness, she remembered the masked figure that came, stood over his kill and glanced at her. Something about him, though, struck her. The air around him was different, not hostile but not nice either.
She wondered if it was the same for Evans, although . . . different in a bad way.
"First off, I want to formally apologize for such an incident and steps have been taken," General Woodhurst grumbled, stress written as clear as day on him.
After long hours of rest, Sara had enough strength to walk toward General Woodhurst's office on her own, against the protest of nurses and Evans himself. The pain in her shoulder dulled, good news of fast healing thanks to the unique medicine that was advanced, too much in her mind being coincidental, although she wasn't one to complain.
"Thank you, General. But may I ask what the consequences Sergeant Brad is facing?" She didn't expect details but at least some solace against the man and his followers.
"He and others are court martial and an investigation is at hand of their illegal activities but I can't say much else," Woodhurst scooted closer to the desk, "Nothing like this will ever happen again. It should have been prevented from the start."
The General displayed a silent glare toward the door where Evans waited outside. At her arrival, there was no doubt the troubling air brewing inside between two high-ranking men, bickering about something important. Sara kept her questions inside for now, she expected they would be answered in some form or another.
Woodhurst sighed, wiping a small drop of sweat, "But I presumed this meeting was orchestrated to discuss what you saw, to the protest of Lieutenant General. Is that right?"
Sara nodded, "Yes, sir."
"Are you sure?"
She watched as the General grumbled, his demeanor shifted as if diving into a sensitive subject. She didn't dwelled on that for long, "I'm positive, Sir."
After a silent minute, Woodhurst spoke slowly, "As you know, this base is classified even in the military and a few selected groups know of this place . . . and for good reason."
He paused and Sara nodded to continue, but observed Woodhurst lower his gaze to the floor, associating with the guilt of concealing something voluminous, "We deal with otherworldly things."
Confusion rose in her. Does he mean that? Sara's eyes scanned back and forth, "I . . . don't understand, Sir."
The General strained his lips, indecisive shown on him. He leaned over the table and opened his mouth, "Aliens."
She resisted the urge to chuckle, the insanity of it all, it was too good to be true. These turn of events were out of a fictional movie, unrealistic in a sense for the sake of entertainment, "I'm sorry, Sir . . . but am I hearing you correctly?"
"Yes," Woodhurst crossed his arm, his eyes squinted and lips tightened, making her doubt the judgment to even ask. Evans almost gave the same remarks.
Sara lowered her face in shame, "I was out of line, Sir. It's just—"
"Hard to believe?"
She shuddered silently, "Yes, sir."
"I understand."
The General leaned back in his chair, "But it's not a joke. Our organization, under the classification act from the CIA, was formed for the purpose of protection against extraterrestrial events or said person coming to Earth . . . after a few visits since 1987."
He paused, "We prepared for decades, ensuring the public had no knowledge of their presence, along with private companies paid to keep quiet. We haven't received anything since 1997, no threats made and our institution remained passive . . . That is until now."
An unwieldy weight bore down on the walls in their room, the floor rumbling under her feet despite nothing else shaking. The realization of the discussion slowly catching up in her brain, there was no joking, no prank of any kind to make this up. For a brief moment, Sara cuffed her knees and squeezed as apprehension crept in. This can't be happening. This is crazy.
"Lieutenant," Sara glanced back to Woodhurst, "We have reason to believe that they returned, the warning they gave us a year ago is coming . . . an invasion. That's why I've recruited specialists in combat and strategy for the foreboding outcome."
"Wait. You said that they gave a warning. Who are they?" Sara spoke.
The General nodded as if expecting that inquiry to be asked, "You're about to find out."
Evans leaned on the wall, attempting to listen after General Woodhurst requested him to leave. It was unnerving not to be in on what his superior was disclosing to Sara, secrets exposed to which he rather be omitted, but given what happened at the grounds, anything was possible.
Fucking Hell. The agitation was grinding on his nerves, fingers wrapped tightly on his biceps. This is not how it was supposed to go.
After receiving the news of Brad's dismissal and discharge from all military activity, sent out of the base immediately upon the decision, not to mention erased due to his association, everyone was on high alert. Securities protecting classified data were strengthened, guards loyal only to Dr. Hastings' branch were posted at the checkpoints, a threat she made promise of this happening again.
And now this . . . the person who he saw potential for more, gained an interest from the monsters was barely held in his grasp. Out of sight, Evans kicked a nearby wall with all his anger, seething through his nostrils.
This is bullshit! I don't need this hiccup now, not when I'm so close! Such bad timing with the recent—
The door opened, General Woodhurst came out with Lieutenant Sara following. Evans saluted, relaxed when the General waved at him, "Everything alright, sir?"
He noticed Woodhurst eyeing Sara, "Follow us. We're heading to Section 19."
Section 19!?
He swallowed silently, "Now?"
"Are you questioning me?" Evans lowered his gaze submissively, that was going out of line even for himself. The General wasn't one to be messed with when it came to the strict conduct of the military, especially here.
He bit his inner lip, pinching a nerve that shocked his cheek, "No, sir."
Woodhurst huffed, "The Lieutenant made her choice and no better than the present for her initiation."
"Of course."
Evans stepped back to allow the General and Lieutenant Sara to pass, he stayed close behind as they made their way. The silence within their group was excruciating enough, let alone Sara checking back on him, almost troubled.
You're so naive. He thought as she turned away. Still . . . you could still be of some use to me and the plan.
His eyes wandered around her body, her hips swaying as she walked, her legs rubbing on each other, her breasts bobbing.
Evans smirked. At least you look fine. Very fine.
Hmmm . . . interesting turn of events with Sara but a bad feeling swirls around Evans. What is his plot?
Find out in the next chapter for the meeting of the Emissary Predators! Thank you all for the support of my stories. Hope to hear from you in future chapters. :)