Gate: In the Company of Shadows
Chapter 2
Interrogative
COUNT COLT FORMAL
SHADOW COMPANY FACILITY, MARYLAND
JANUARY 2, 2022 - 07:30:00
Darkness…
That's all that Colt Formal saw when he slowly came to. What happened? Last he remembered, he passed through the gate on a glorious expedition mission for the Saderan Empire. A mission which, for all intents and purposes, had failed miserably.
Was it all a dream? Where am I? Am I dead? Formal asked himself.
Those thoughts were immediately squashed as light flooded Formal's vision and blinded him. It felt as if he stared right into the sun. He attempted to cover his eyes, yet when he went to raise his arms, he was met with resistance.
After a moment, Formal blearily opened his eyes, allowing his pupils to dilate and adjust to the light. As the brightness died down, he was able to get a better look at the sparse room.
He could make out details such as his wrists bound and strapped to the table, a simple door at the opposite end of the room, and a very clean-looking mirror to his right.
Who needs a mirror that long?
The Count looked back down at his wrists, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the cold steel. They certainly looked more complicated and detailed than the usual shackles he was used to seeing.
Shackles on his wrists meant that he was now a prisoner. The great Count Formal, serving under an allegedly great Empire, was now considered a lost cause. Even with his high nobility status, he knew no one was going to risk their life or their own troops to rescue him, not that they'd even be able to.
His life was now in the hands of an unknown enemy…
The question now is, what were they planning to do to him? The fear of his fate being unknown caused him to shiver slightly. Or maybe it was the absurdly frigid room he was sitting in. He'd hug his arms close to his body if he could but the shackles were effective in restricting his movement.
They wanted him alive obviously, but there's no telling what for. Was he going to be executed in front of a crowd? Humiliated? Tortured? Sold as a slave?
He gave a mirthless chuckle at that last one. Count Formal, reduced to nothing more than a servant…
No… this line of thinking would lead to despair, and despair wouldn't help him right now.
A strong body is one thing, and a strong mind is another. You cannot let the enemy break your mind. You must have the willpower to stand against them. Then, and only then, will you be truly free! He silently nodded to himself.
Just focus on something, Formal, before you lose your mind.
The bright light certainly didn't help matters. Speaking of, where was the light coming from? He couldn't recall seeing any torches or candles burning in the room. He slightly lifted his arms to see where his shadow was cast, before looking up and squinting at the source.
Are they using magic to power this? He asked himself. Enchantments maybe?
Two rods were beaming as they hung from the ceiling, and the faint buzzing emanating from them didn't seem like it was stopping anytime soon.
That definitely wasn't going to get annoying…
Formal contemplated drumming his fingers on the table before deciding that it would be uncouth of him. So instead, he decided to rest them against the cold table and wait patiently for whatever came next.
Looking to his right, the mirror that rested against the wall allowed him to get a much better look at himself. Aside from the swelled-up purple bruise on his face, for the most part, he was unharmed. Nothing a bit of rest and time couldn't heal.
The same couldn't be said for most of his subordinates though. He vividly remembered their shouts of terror, screams of pain, and cries for help from their mothers or divine ones. That wasn't at all how he expected the battle to turn out.
They had everything they'd really need for a simple force such as his. Shield lines, archers, beastmen, wyverns, and yet, after they ignored what was presumably the enemy's warning, his archers couldn't even level their bows at them before being cut down.
That begged the question. Who exactly were they up against?
"So what do you think?" Ronin asked, looking at their new prisoner on the other side of the mirror. "Some medieval cosplayer that stumbled into the wrong area? Live-action role-play or something?
Vale shook his head. "No, it can't be that. He came in with a small army and they didn't surrender after the first few dropped."
"Don't forget the fantasy creatures too," Viper reminded. Not like they needed to be reminded in the first place. It was kind of hard to forget seeing real dragons flying above you as you shot at pigs walking on two legs wielding scimitars, among other beasts.
"I got pretty close to those anthropomorphic things when we assessed the damage. Fur felt pretty real and there were no bodies inside… well, the bodies." Bristol said, resting his boots on the table which held the surveillance systems monitors.
Vale grunted as he crossed his arms, inspecting the glass in front of him. "This mirror is one way, right?"
"Obviously, like something out of a movie. I thought interrogation rooms were small with tiny cameras in the corners." Angel replied, looking at the room and its details, or lack thereof.
"You're thinking about an underfunded police precinct, and Shadow Company couldn't be any further from such a thing." A new voice spoke up from the entrance of the viewing room.
Chairs and heads swiveled as they turned to face the speaker. The form of Oxide was seen standing in the doorway and next to him was Commander Phillip Graves, CEO of Shadow Company.
Needless to say, when the head honcho that signs your paychecks steps into the same room as you, you sure as hell better stand at attention.
"Sir!" The squad went stock rigid so quickly, one might have thought they were robots with how simultaneously in sync they were.
Graves kept his hands behind him as he smiled at his employees. He moved closer to Angel, who looked a little nervous at the attention.
"Interrogation isn't just physical torture, but also psychological as well. That includes room details. Sure, what we got here ain't on the same level as Guantanamo Bay, but the CIA has worked with a lot less…" The whole time, Graves kept the smile up. Though unnerving at first, it then quickly morphed into a more comfortable and friendly one. "At ease gentlemen."
Bishop squad immediately relaxed, tension leaving their bodies once they knew they weren't in any trouble. Not that they did anything to deserve punishment, at least, anything that they could recall. The concern mostly stemmed from the man of high status standing in front of them.
Even though his position as CEO basically required his name to be known, Phillip Graves was an enigma just like many other Shadow Company operatives.
One of the few members with an open identity and yet everything about him on file is highly secretive. News articles or interviews with the man were so rare and controlled, that you'd have to be surfing through several pages of search results just to come up with even a hint of a trail.
Not that one should be pouring so much research into a man like him in the first place. The subtle comment about CIA connections and the ever infamous Guantanamo Bay obviously should have been enough to steer one away from such endeavors.
Regardless of the secrets the man keeps, he is highly revered amongst the Company. Sure it may seem like many of the operators are just trying to be brown nosers but there's a reason he holds not just the title of CEO but also commander.
Most PMCs aren't really considered actual militaries and thus often aren't structured like one. That means that when signing on to a PMC, your old rank is effectively obsolete and you'll then be under many different titles. Contractor, operator, fixer, security manager, and many others that the PMC can come up with that don't sound too intimidating.
Shadow Company, although following the same trend, has also given ranks to those higher up in the chain of command. The perks of being a tier one PMC that works with the best of the best.
Graves may have bought the title of CEO but he earned the rank of commander with distinction. He had been involved in numerous joint operations with official militaries and their special forces around the globe to the point that the man has most likely visited every country at least twice now.
Despite having earned so much to live a life of luxury and retire ten times over again, Graves was still constantly seen operating out in the field. The man was never afraid of getting his hands dirty doing wetwork, and the operators serving under him respected him greatly for it.
Not something he had come to expect from a CEO.
Usually, they'd just be overlooking their swanky cars in the parking lot from inside their fancy furniture-filled office on the top floor.
At first, Vale was skeptical about it all and who wouldn't be? It was more than a little concerning to have the man who pays him out in the line of fire rather than going to meetings with the company's best men as bodyguards, but he seemed adamant about doing fieldwork.
Maybe he got his kicks off at the thrill and adrenaline that came with it, maybe it was a matter of pride, or maybe he had something to prove. Regardless of why he was doing it, Vale didn't press him about it at all. Best to not pry into your boss' personal life.
Not unless you want a dock in pay and several eyes on you.
"So, do we know anything about our esteemed guest?" Graves asked, eyeing the medieval man in the other room.
"Aside from most likely speaking Latin like the others, nothing yet, sir. He's just woken up. We considered letting him stew there for a while before asking anything." Vale responded, "Make him a little weary."
Graves narrowed his eyes at the prisoner, humming in acknowledgment. "I see what you're going for, but need I remind you that a giant gate is within company grounds? One which the enemy can keep coming through at any moment. If this were any other situation I wouldn't mind waiting, but time is not something we can afford with such an unknown element."
"So Chinese water torture is off the table. What then?" Bristol asked, twirling a pen around as he leaned back in the seat. "I'm sure the bloke will be too freaked to yap sensibly if we just beat him blue or something."
Viper eyed the pen twirling in Bristol's hand, "We could threaten to take an eye out, scare him into talking if he wants to avoid that outcome."
Graves chuckled before making his way out of the room, Oxide following close by. "I appreciate the suggestions, but it seems to me that you fellas are overthinking things. If he knows what's good for him, he'll talk."
"And if he doesn't?"
He turned his head slightly from the doorway, "Oh he will…"
And with that, the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Bishop squad alone in the dark. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint droning of the air conditioner, at least until Angel broke it.
"Is it just me, or did the commander seem kind of intimidating today?"
"He's always intimidating." Ronin rolled his eyes at the comment. "I'd be too if the enemy had free access to what is essentially my lawn."
Vale turned his attention back to the interrogation room. "Looks like the commander's gonna show us how it's done. Almost feel bad for the poor sap in there…"
Formal looked up from the table as the door at the other end of the room unlocked. Two figures in black fatigues stood outside, conversing with each other.
"Are you sure?" A tall bald man asked what was presumably his superior.
The slightly shorter one had a hat of some sort on, giving his subordinate a gentle pat on the shoulder, "I've got it handled Oxide, just wait for me in the viewing room."
"Yes sir," He replied before walking away.
The man, now alone, turned to look at him. Their eyes made contact for a brief moment and Formal felt a little unnerved. He swore that he was staring right into his soul. Formal did his best to stare back before realizing he was being analyzed, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Damnit, already playing right into their hands! Formal mentally berated himself.
The man sighed before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He didn't utter a single word, instead opting to slowly make his way to the seat in front of him. Each footfall though quiet, echoed against the walls in such a way that it was deafening and the man's eyes never once left his.
Once he reached the table, he grabbed the metal chair in front of him, before deliberately scraping it against the ground as he pulled it back. The sound grated against Formal's ears, and the Count nearly winced before stopping himself. The man was still watching, waiting for any slip-up on his mask.
Once the chair was back, he sat down, keeping his back straight and hands down in his lap.
Now that he was closer, Formal began to get a better look at his interrogator. If he was being analyzed then he would do the same.
The man in front of him appeared to sport the beginnings of a beard on his chiseled jaw, a five o'clock shadow as he had heard it referred to. On his right cheek was a faded scar, a simple cut by the looks of it and probably from a combat experience. Lastly, the eyes.
They were hardened. Those were the eyes of someone who had seen and done many things throughout their life. It was a look Formal had commonly seen amongst some of his men and the soldiers of the Saderan Empire.
Formal mentally prepared himself to speak to the man- no, soldier, in front of him. Looks like he'd need to be the Count for this situation.
"I-"
As Formal opened his mouth to speak, the soldier in front of him immediately cut him off.
"Be quiet. I will be the one talking here and you will not speak unless spoken to. If I ask a question, only then will you answer, and you will answer the question with complete honesty."
Surprisingly, he spoke the same language as him. Strange, considering the fact that he couldn't understand any of the words the other soldiers said about him before his capture. Formal frowned before eyeing the shackles that kept him restrained to the table, the soldier doing the same.
"Let me make one thing clear. In case you couldn't already tell, you are not in control of this situation. You never were. The moment you exited that structure, stepped onto my property, and aimed weapons at my men, you declared your lives forfeit."
The glare he sent his way was enough to make Formal shrink in on himself. The soldier in front of him closed his eyes and breathed in before exhaling. As he opened his eyes again, his face took a noticeably calmer expression, even carrying what appeared to be a light-hearted smile.
"Now that that's out of the way, I think it's time I introduced myself. Greetings," The soldier outstretched the palm of his hand halfway across the table, "I'm Phillip Graves, the commander, and CEO of Shadow Company."
Formal cautiously eyed the hand. This Phillip Graves, was just threatening him moments ago and now he wanted to shake hands with him? He was currently a prisoner and from what he just learned, was basically speaking to the leader of the army he attacked.
Those of higher status usually didn't shake hands with those from other classes, especially lower ones. It was often seen as something far beneath nobles and royals. To sully one's hand meant to often mingle with the commoners. Formal himself obviously didn't care about such divisions, seeing as all of his servants in his clan were made up entirely of demi-human women.
An expectant look appeared on Commander Graves' face. "This is the part where you shake my hand and introduce yourself."
Formal looked up from the hand and back to Commander Graves' eyes. It didn't seem like the man held any ill intent, so Formal decided to just shrug and go along with it. He'd take cordiality over torture, that is, of course, they weren't still planning to and this wasn't just a ruse to get his guard down.
Formal slowly reached for Graves' hand before grasping it and giving a firm shake.
Calluses, definitely an experienced soldier… He noted.
Formal cleared his throat, doing his best to present himself well. "I am Count Colt Formal, head of the Formal Clan."
"I'd say that it's a pleasure to meet you, but considering the circumstances, we'd both know that'd be a lie." Graves' face became business-like almost instantly. "What do you know about the structure that you and your soldiers marched out of?"
Formal could only sigh, "To be honest? Not much… just that we've simply dubbed it, the gate. Word from villagers and passing travelers about its sudden appearance eventually reached the Emperor of the Saderan Empire, and expedition forces were formed to go through."
"To go through and do what exactly?"
"Claim resources, land, and slaves for the Empire whilst expanding…"
Graves' face hardened slightly at the want for slaves. "So this Emperor, did he approve of these expeditions?"
"Oh yes, in fact, he was the one who had the expedition forces formed in the first place."
Graves turned to the mirror and quickly looked back, confusing Formal for a moment. "You said expedition forces, as in multiple. But we only saw yours pass through… where did the others go?"
Formal cringed, not expecting the slip-up of information to be caught. "Ah… w-well you see, it wasn't just a singular gate that appeared out of the blue."
Graves became even more serious as concern laced his face. More gates could mean more trouble, and if the media got wind of any of it, that would be bad. A cover-up would be near impossible, not to mention the countless amounts of people that would get hurt. If they opened up in other countries, it would be a political disaster, and the new world order that Shadow Company had carefully set up would start to slip out of their grasp…
Graves abruptly stood up from his seat, the chair sliding back as he leaned against the table. "Colt, you need to tell me where the rest of these gates have opened. It could jeopardize everything our people have worked so hard to accomplish!"
Formal put his hands up in surrender, well, as much as one could in cuffs. "It's not quite the scale you're thinking of, please calm down. There was only one other gate and as far as we know, it led inside to one of your cities. Not too catastrophic I'm sure."
Graves fell back in his chair, nodding his head at every word before pausing in contemplation.
Ever since the arrival of this Saderan Empire, Commander Graves notified his shadows all around the globe to keep an ear out for any such similar events. A day later, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Most unusual, considering that all of Shadow Company central command was scrambling to understand the attempted assault on their main facility.
If even a bird saw the appearance of a gate, it's most likely that one of his shadows would have seen it and reported it as well.
So either the Count was lying to him, or something wasn't quite lining up…
Graves glanced back at the mirror real quick. Hopefully, Oxide got the same idea as him and decided to make a call to have satellites scan again for any new data.
"Count Formal, my men have been tirelessly working overtime ever since you showed up. We've checked every square inch of our planet and we've not found the existence of any other gates."
Formal was surprised that Graves could confirm so with such confidence. "Already? Might I ask, how long has it been since I've woken up?"
"My men captured you yesterday afternoon, and it's currently just past dawn. So technically not even a full day."
"You've scoured the world that quickly? How is such a thing even possible?"
"Let's just say that we're a lot more advanced than you think…" Graves replied before reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of parchment paper before opening and flattening it against the table. On it was a map displaying the entirety of the Falmart continent.
"After assessing the damage dealt to your expedition force, we've discovered creatures and beasts not native to our world. This fact, coupled with the appearance of the gate and the map in front of us is clear evidence that you're obviously not from this planet."
Formal nodded along, not really understanding where Graves was going with this.
"The attempted invasion of your forces on U.S. soil would be seen as an act of aggression, a declaration of war. The United States and its allies would retaliate in full force against you if they found that their citizens were attacked in their streets. You would not even be in front of me having this conversation."
With the amount of destruction that Commander Graves inflicted on Formal's forces, his words weren't to be taken lightly. Formal found himself gulping in nervousness.
"We've barely conversed and yet you've given me so much information. Help me a little more, and then I can help you, hmm?
"Help… me?" Formal furrowed his brow at the offer. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, if you help explain the map and continue helping us further down the line, we can get you back to your home. Surely you must have family waiting for you, needing you?"
It was obvious that Graves was fishing for info to use against him, but Formal was backed into a corner here. He had no choice but to respond truthfully.
"I… I do," Formal said carefully, unsure of how much info to give up. "But how exactly will I be helping you further down the line?"
"You said that you're a Count, right? Not to mention the clothing you're currently wearing. It's pretty obvious to some degree that you're nobility, especially if your Emperor entrusted you with such matters like leading an expedition force onto my property."
"I suppose that my nobility status does indeed grant me some level of power within my world on the other side of the gate," Formal confirmed. "But I'm not quite sure how much you think I can accomplish with it. Everything I do is under the greater Saderan Empire. My people simply cannot compete with them."
Graves shook his head. "Oh don't worry, we won't have you doing anything major that will put your people in danger. Just simple nudges here and there under our careful guidance."
Formal eyed the soldier in front of him. No longer was he acting like a well-respected commander and military strategist but instead, a sleazy businessman he'd see scamming people at a market stall.
Formal frowned at the behavior change, "Why are you doing this?"
Graves clasped his hands together before leaning back in his chair, a confident smile plastered on his face. "I'm not just a military commander, you see? I'm also a lucrative businessman, and what I see in front of me is a useful asset that can help expand my business."
Formal glanced up at the logo on Graves' beret. "...And what matter of business is Shadow Company interested in?"
Graves leaned forward, "The kind of business that benefits us." He said before tapping the map between them. "So whaddya say?"
"Count Colt Formal is to be relocated to one of the VIP living quarters and under total surveillance twenty-four seven. Guards will be assigned to schedules as they watch and accommodate our new guest, rotations every week." Graves told Oxide as he mentally jotted everything down.
They stopped walking as Graves turned around to face Oxide, "He is restricted to the living quarters and if he wants to go anywhere else, he'll have to put in a request that can only be approved by me. If they're approved he must always be accompanied by at least four of our best men, get it done."
"Yes sir, right away sir!" Oxide saluted the commander before disappearing down the hall, on the way to make things happen.
"And check for food allergies!" Graves called out, "I don't want a repeat of last time!"
Commander Graves sighed to himself. Today was going to be a long and busy day. After the interrogation turned into a lucrative business deal with Count Formal, he had a whole plethora of information disclosed to him. It was a good thing that all the audio was recorded. His analysts were going to have a field day with all the info.
Speaking of field days, Graves also had to start amassing what was essentially an army to go through the gate. It would look mighty suspicious if he were to start moving men and resources so quickly.
He'd have to do it at a slower pace, and his logistics guys said that it'd take at least two months, plus the construction around the gate would possibly add another month to his wait time due to resources. All in all, it looked to be totaling three months.
Three months of sitting around doing nothing. If there was one thing Graves hated doing, it was nothing. The wait he could handle, but it was the fact that nothing really productive would be coming out of it until that time passes.
No matter, Shadow Company contractors would be stepping foot into another world. This would be a big thing for humanity, and scientists would no doubt have deep questions about all of it. But first, he needed to plant a firm foothold within the region with his own people. When the existence of the gate is eventually revealed, it will hopefully be when Shadow Company has a strong presence inside. There will no doubt be backlash, but that's something he was prepared to face.
What he wasn't as prepared for was the existence of another gate in the special region. Apparently one had also appeared at Alnus Hill, so helpfully pointed out by Formal himself. This was most concerning, as he described it leading into a well-populated modern city.
Considering that no other gate was on their world, it was safe to say that the Saderan Empire had also provoked another. Something like that couldn't be covered up on their end, so either the Empire had angered a country that wanted no help from the world, or they angered the entire world itself.
Graves wouldn't know unless they encountered them. Something that he hoped never happened. He wanted this to be Shadow Company territory, no one else's…
He walked past his receptionist and made his way into his office at the end of the hall. The room he entered was modern, sleek, and luxurious, something befitting of a man of his stature. He sighed as he made his way to the leather chair behind his desk, turning on his computer and preparing to make notes and read reports.
As he waited for the computer to boot up, his eyes trailed down to the desk he sat at. Rich mahogany wood, polished to perfection to the point that he could use it as a mirror. Except for that speck of dust at the corner.
Looks like I missed a spot… Graves thought to himself. Of course, he was the one that tidied up the office himself. The room was too sensitive to have anyone else in there alone and unsupervised.
He went to swipe it up, inspecting it as he rubbed it between his fingertips.
The table was polished and sharp. It was also dirty and messy but that didn't really matter did it? Sure the designs were pretty and immaculate, carefully crafted to look professional, but a simple table only needed to store things and hold stuff. That's what it was designed for and no matter how it looked, it still got the job done.
His eyes narrowed before immediately flicking the dust away, turning his full attention to the screen in front of him. He pulled up the database on operational contractors before finding the file of who exactly he wanted.
CONFIDENTIAL
OPERATOR DOSSIER
OPERATOR B0149-S
NAME: [REDACTED]
ALIAS: Vale
RANK: First Lieutenant
D.O.B: July 30, 1995 (Aged 26 years)
GENDER: Male
NATIONALITY: American
LATERALITY: Ambidextrous (Right Eye Dominant)
HEIGHT: 5' 10"
WEIGHT: 175 lbs
VISION: 20/20
BLOOD TYPE: O+
EYE COLOR: Green
HAIR COLOR: Black
RELATIVES: Mother (Deceased); Father (Deceased); Sister [REDACTED]
MARITAL STATUS: Single
CHILDREN: None
LANGUAGES: English, French, German, Japanese, Latin, Russian, Spanish.
SPECIALIST FIELDS: Asset Protection, Asset Recovery, Asset Security, Covert Operations, Firearms, HALO Infiltration, Long-Range Reconnaissance, Mountaineering, Navigation, Tracking, Underwater Operations.
SERVICE HISTORY: -Joined 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta at 18 in 2013.
-Deployed to Afghanistan for several months until the eventual withdrawal of U.S. forces. Served with distinction during his short duration in country, eventually earning the rank of First Lieutenant.
-Worked on and off as a contractor for smaller PMCs, rotating every few months.
-Approached by Shadow Company representative and offered a contract. Eventually returned to Afghanistan and deployed to Site Hotel Bravo. Assigned to lead Butcher squad.
CURRENT STATUS: -Butcher squad relabeled to Bishop squad after incident A-03 and transferred to Shadow Company facility in Maryland. Still under Shadow Company Contract. Awaiting new directives…
Graves found himself with growing interest as he read through the file. "Vale, former Delta Force and part of my fabled Butcher unit?"
He scrolled further down, attention caught by one of the major incident reports. In a PMC like Shadow Company, such a thing was no doubt common amongst operators. The main difference from other PMCs is that it was handled much more professionally, and they could sweep it under the radar easier.
INCIDENT A-03: 6 miles from Ghazni, Butcher squad was sent to the remote village of [REDACTED] in search of a High-Value Target, Hashim Ozer. At 11:54:00 Oxide confirmed jackpot on HVT and ordered Butcher squad to bag and tag, as per client request.
Moments later, a young village local had reached for the target's cellular device. The same one connected to the IED vest strapped to Hashim Ozer's chest, which he attempted to use on the squad just moments before.
reports from various members of Butcher squad and Avatar-1 lined up, confirming that the civilian was indeed a danger to everyone around them.
The squad responded accordingly and the village was in an uproar. Locals were quick to anger and Butcher squad was in fear for their lives.
Oxide received authorization from above to allow Butcher squad to resort to more drastic measures. Avatar-1 was ordered to blast the zone, removing as much evidence as possible while clean-up crews were dispatched to remove the village from the map.
INCIDENT A-03 NOTES: I don't care what anybody says. My contractors would have been killed out there. If I had to choose again, I'd pick my men over the boy, always. This file will be locked from any future modifications or comments. Now get back to work.
"Butcher squad, no deed too dirty, no act too bloody." Commander Graves smirked to himself, "Maybe you're just who I need for this…"
Author's Notes
Count Colt Formal has been interrogated by Shadow Company forces. He expected torture, but instead, got questioned by the Commander and CEO of Shadow Company itself, Phillip Graves.
He agreed upon a deal that ensured he would return to Italica, so long as he helped the enemy in whatever they needed.
What exactly had he brought upon Falmart? Maybe he should have accepted the torture instead…