Chapter 6

There isn't enough coffee

News of the disaster in Verandi reached the island soon there after. The moment Morice's Spearow flew into the guard tower with her trainer's dogtags, Riker knew something was wrong. By the time they got there, Vanessa was out, the new girl was unconscious and the left half of Morice's ribcage was bruised.

He was the luckiest of them all.

Save for Lars.

Lars

Riker's fingers clenched around the handle of his mug.

Such a waste of time and money. His project wrung them dry of resources, and for what? Injuries and death?

Standing at his window with the grounds beneath him, he watched his men come and go. Some struggled through the knee deep snow while ice hung from the gutters. Said ice reflected the sunlight into the office. The light itself did little to warm the frozen tundra.

When they got there, to where Morice and that girl were, she was coughing up enough blood to swim in.

Then there were the Carter Twins.

The one that's left.

The knock came shortly after, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Arlia." He called over his shoulder to his long time friend, a Blaziken with golden, almond shaped eyes. She nodded before going to the door.

"Sir." Ms. Morre, his secretary and childhood nanny, poked her head in. "Mr. Stotler's on line two."

Riker answered with a sigh. "I'm guessing everyone knows by now."

"You won't know until you answer." The secretary blew a huff of air upwards, whisking a grayed strand from her vision. "I'll bring lunch in at noon. I better see a clean plate."

"I don't have time." With the phone in his dominant hand, Riker paused with his finger hovering over the button. Glancing up he caught her severe glare and reiterated. "Yes ma'am."

"I better get a 'yes ma'am" She turned to leave but backtracked. "Tuna casserole by the way, no mayo. Just how you like it." She was given a nod and took it as acceptance.

Riker waited until he was alone to answer the call. "Yeah?"

"Riker, I-"

"Heard about the issue already, I'm sure."

The voice on the other end paused. Knowing Stotler it was to either light a cigarette or take a drag. "I was just wanting to see if you needed any men. I have a few to spare."

"I'm down 2 grunts, lost a lab worker too," He thought of the great loss that was Caleb and sighed into the phone. "Lost a damn good one."

"How much has it cost you?"

"I don't want to talk finances." Riker knew better than to snap. He and Stotler went way back, to diaper days even. They were neighbors with Stotler's father, a high ranking member of the Organization. If there was ever a man he trusted, it was Stotler. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated. I thought we had something with Lars' project. Imagine, extra workers without running the ones we have into the ground...now the League is setting up gyms in the area, we're bound to have trainers poking around in our business." He scraped his bands into his scalp. As he glanced into the mirror on his desk, he noticed his natural roots showing through the black dye. "...I need to check in with the infirmary. I haven't heard from the nurse in a while."

"Hungover?"

"No, our newest arrival hasn't left her bed. I'm making sure we haven't lost another one." They said a few more words, mostly asinine in nature, before Riker pressed the button to cut the call. From there, he dialed another number and waited for the ring. "Hey, I need you to call the infirmary and check on the girl...also my condolences to Miss. Carter...his death was on our watch, we're responsible...yeah sure." There was a click on the other end. Examining the brewer from his desk he wondered if he should bother making a third pot.

Lately, he was never sure what to do.