Chapter Four

Ethan Kasey could hardly contain himself; he yanked his tie off and undid the first button of his oxford white shirt. He threw his empty coffee cup emblazoned with the letters RDA on the side at the wall,but the durable ceramics did not shatter. He grabbed his hair, which was cut by an expensive stylist in Jacksonville, in fistfuls and wanted to pull it out. He some of the papers off his desk in a temper tantrum worthy of a two year old. It certainly was not a fitting episode for the RDA's Director of the the Public Relations for the Southeastern Region of the United States. 'Of the United States' the phrase echoed in his mind as he tried to calm himself down mentally, countries were such a joke, they no longer retained any power, they were just convenient, preformed bins for the RDA to sort people into and to divide up power among executives.

"What the hell do you mean they lost?" He exclaimed at the slender paper pusher in front of his desk.

The smallish man shrunk back from Ethan's rage. While in his fifties, the executive was still well built and his military background made him all the more scary. "W-well, we lost contact with the combat teams-"

"And the double agents."

"They were supposed to report three hours ago. Not a word from them."

"How do we keep getting beat by a bunch of alligator munching, unwashed, swamp rats?"

"Umm."

"Shut up, it's a rhetorical question you idiot." He covered his face with his hands. "Get out of my sight. Now!"

The small man rushed out of the expensive looking office, closing the door behind him. Ethan sat in his high-backed chair and wondered how he would explain this failure to his superiors. He had gotten a group best mercenaries the RDA had, Death's Angles, they had a reputation of total brutality and cutthroat tactics, in fact, even more brutal than the rebels reputation. Furthermore, he had double agents in Cody Wright's inner circle, they had chances to kill him every day, but they had to capture him alive, or else he would have been a martyr.

A red light glowed on the hologram panel on his desk, it was accompanied by a soft beeping tone. He gently moved his index finger across it. "Gimme good news, Sheila." He said to his sectary through the intercom.

"Well, I actually can, Death's Angels are in bound by Samson, guess who they say they have in the cargo bay?" Chimed her melodic voice, which cheered Ethan up almost as much as the news itself.

"Wright, right?"

"Indeed! You're so smart."

"Thanks." He slid his finger back across the holographic keypad, and then, being sure it was off, he began to dance around his desk in jubilation. He knew he was going to get that raise now! Maybe even a promotion!