Chapter Four:

"Hold your ground."  He ordered his heart racing as he stared intently in front of him.  He blinked ignoring the stringing pain in his eyes as he tried to see through the black smoke covering the field.  Glancing around him he watched his men waiting impatiently for his orders.  "Go now!"  He shouted over the deafening roar of gunshots and shells exploding around them.

His body jerked forcefully backwards as a grenade exploded a few feet away.  He swiftly turned his head in the direction of the blast as he took a deep breath to replace the air that was pushed from his lungs at the impact.  The smoke filled air lodged in his throat choking him as he watched Christen the youngest of his men thrown violently backwards his body slamming onto the ground a few feet away.  He raced toward him dropping to his knees, his hands reaching out to grab him before he'd come to a complete stop.  He hauled Christen body up to his, the blood flowing through his veins rushing to his face.  "You will not die on me soldier."  He yelled pulling the limp form close to him.  "Damn it I'm giving you a direct order.  You will not die on me."  He shouted, closing his eyes for a moment against the nausea that suddenly hit him.   "You got your wish."  He murmured turning his head away as he let the dead body slide from his arms.  He absentmindedly reached out picking up Christens gun, his body trembling as he steadily got to his feet, his brows drawn into a scowl he stared out across the smoke blacken field.  His face-harden in a mask of fury as the adrenaline pumping through his veins merged with his rage stripping him of all control.

'I want to be a hero, sir."  Christens words echoed in his head.  'I want to be a hero, sir."

"Ahhhhhhhh………"  He screamed racing forward his semi-automatic pointed towards the ones who dare take one so young, his finger repeatedly pressing the trigger, arming at anything that moved on the other side of the field.

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The guards paced the vicinity of the mansion C7A1 assault rifles strapped across their bodies, AK47's held firmly in their grasps as they inspection the surrounding grounds.

"Report Black."

Pulling the communicator from his pocket Black pressed the side button.  "All's well."  He stared around him at the beautiful garden surrounding him.  "Sir."

"What's that Black?"

"I was just wondering sir, why the up grade in security?"

.

"You're not paid to think.  Just do what your told.  Over and out."

"Yes, sir."  Black said sarcastically as he pushed the walkie-talkie back into his pocket.  Sighing he closed his eyes for a moment.  'Fifteen years in the marines and this is where I end up.'

He made his way around the area coming across a patio.  He stared at the two people sitting at the table a few yards away.  'This must be the one's who pays the bills.'  He said to himself watching them.  The young man snapped his fingers and a servant suddenly out of nowhere appeared in front of him and then disappeared just as quickly only to return with a small mirror, which she relinquished immediately.  God… he hated people like them.  Everything in him wanted to say screw this job and walk away, but walk away to what?  Taking a deep breath he sighed.  "How the hell did I end up here?"  He mumbled.  As if he'd summoned them the images raced through him.

'Shells ricocheting from the decade of an abandoned car, bullet's slamming into him once, twice before it dropped him in his tracks.  Struggling to get to his feet, the world spinning around him.  Turning his head to witness Tim, Pete and Michael cut down a few yards away.  Watching helpless as his men, his friends fought to hold down the forte.  Giving into the dark wave fighting for control.  Waking up in a hospital bed safe, alive and wanting to die as his last mission raced through him.  Standing in front of his regiment receiving a medal for bravery.  His heart racing, slamming forcefully inside him as he stood in attention allowing his superior to pin the medal to his chest, wanting to take that medal and smash it into his face.'

Taking a deep breath he forcefully pushed the unwanted memories away as he returned his attention back to the people on the patio, his heart pounding as he tried to control the guilt that always consumed him when he thought about his last year in the military.

He slumped down in his seat, his body trembling as he pulled the blanket tighter around him.  He felt so cold that not even the ninety-eight degree weather could ease the chill raking his body.

"What happened to me?"  He demanded struggling to sit up in his seat. 

"I…I don't know.  Maybe it's just a side affect from him healing you."

He snapped his fingers summoning a servant.  Groaning he closed his eyes against the dizziness that hit him at the movement. 

"Mirror…now!"  He stared after the servant girl who quickly retreated to do his bidding before he turned back to his wife.   "Where is he?"  He pinned her with his eyes, his rage causing the air to leave her body swiftly as she encountered his unexpected anger.

"He's….he's dead."  She mumbled intertwining her fingers nervously together.

Clayton pulled his eyes away from her and stared at the girl standing in front of him a frighten look on her face.  Opening his hand he tilted his head gritting his teeth against the dizziness he'd come to expect at ever movement.  He watched her eyes dart from his face to his hand before she placed the mirror in his hand.  God he hated people like her.  Useless, spineless creatures afraid of their own shadows.   Their sorry lives a disgrace.  "Get the hell away from me."  He yelled a smile spreading across his lips as he watched her eyes opened wide in shock before she turned and fled back into the house.

The smile disappeared just as quickly as it appeared when he drew his eyes to the mirror in his hand.  He stared stunned at his reflection.  It was him and yet it wasn't.  Where once his head was coated with brown it was now replaced with black.  His eyes…his amazing baby blue eyes was now as blown as the coffee he consumed every morning.  He reached up touching his face in awe.

"I guess that alien blood was more powerful then we thought."  He drew his hand up to his face and watched it as it trembled.  "What's wrong with me?  Why do I feel as if I'm on deaths door?"

"We need to give it some time.   It's only been about ten hours since he healed you.  You need to rest…Clayton.  By tomorrow morning you should be fine."

Clayton sighed as he let the mirror drop from his hands.  'Maybe she's right.  A whole day of sleep sounds like heaven at the moment.'  "Okay…. Rest."  Pushing the blanket off of his shoulders he gripped the edge of the table with both hands.  Mya got to her feet and hurried to his side to contribute her strength to his, but she could not support his weight.   Guiding him back to his seat she grabbed the bell sitting on the table.  She rang it twice before she tossed it back on the table.

"Yes, Madam?"  Sara stole a glance at Clayton before she let her eyes rest on the ground in front of her.

"Sara… inform the nurse that Mr. Clayton is ready to go in now."   She stared at the nervous creature making her way back into the house.  "God it's hard to find good help."  She mumbled as she took her seat.  "You'll see Clayton….by tomorrow everything will be fine."

Clayton smiled as he grabbed the blanket pulling it back around him.  "Yes… it will be.   Tomorrow we start eliminating everything and everyone who can link us to that boy."   He captured her eyes with his ignoring the pain that shot through him as he leaned towards her.   "I want every trace of his existence gone.  I don't care what we have to do to accomplish it.  Get Mcklan on the phone and inform him that we're moving onto the next phase."

TBC