Disclaimer: don't own
Uprising: Not to Act
She was pacing heavily around her war room. The brightly glowing blue sphere filled up the window of the room. Charts and papers scattered across the oak desk. She couldn't believe this. The Supreme Leader of the KND, the 'Blonde Ninja', Number 362 herself just received some grave information. This information just given was a blow to her sanity. Just a few minutes ago before she lit this now almost gone cigarette, she was told something she never, never in her twenty-five years would conceive.
What was she to do? What could she do? The informant did his job. He 'informed' her of the intelligence just gathered. Mr. Fulbright, of Fulbright Co, Senator of the Board also moonlighted as Mr. Boss. The Mr. Boss the one and only who was responsible for personally, and brutally murdering civilians.
She has always been able to keep the personal and the business separate. She had to. Being Supreme Commander meant many things. And the most important was never show weakness, nor show favoritism.
Now with the knowledge that one of her operatives…her own lieutenant…and her dearest friend…
She laughed to her self at that one. Snuffing her cigarette out as she fell into her chair. Pulling open the drawer in her desk, which she knew had the bitterest tasting whisky keep there, with a most expensive double crystal glass cleaned and ready for use. She poured more then a double in, tilting back to take in the vile liquid.
Was the fate of this operative the same fate that had befallen her most excellent Sector? Sector Z… she could still remember that battle. Smelled the burning wood and debris. The blood obscuring her vision has she saw each of them slowly being pull into a mind fuck. They became utterly unaware of whom they once were as they fell deep into the corrupt mind of their father, their family.
Family ties. After that incident she had no choice but to order the decommission of over a dozen operatives. Her personal feelings of the matter; after the order was given she drowned her self in bitter tasting whiskey, did not matter. To have another repeat of what happened she could not afford. So any operative that had a family member knowingly within the Organization had to be... What if that devise, what ever it was that was used on Sector Z, could eventually be reprogrammed. Operatives from the device's efforts would change sides with remembering everything. That would mean the end of KND. That was not going to happen on her watch.
She set the glass down softy scraping it across the oak desk angrily as her heart beat just a little bit faster. She had to order an immediate decommission, but as her heart clenched, which she blamed on the whiskey, she hesitated to pick up the phone. Her mind pestered her:
Why are you the one that has to make scarifies?
She calmly spoke back to her mind that every one has made sacrifices and has lost. Her mind kept on going:
You have always put your feelings aside. 'bout time you take something.
She again disagreed with herself even if in the back of her consciousness she wanted to believe she could do something…a little selfish.
You can. Remember all those years…you need them…you want-
She swiftly picked up her drinking glass and threw it across the room. The clash echoed threw out. The small, shattered pieces clinked on the carpeted floor.
Years flash in her mind's eye. How she become an operative. Then a lieutenant, and finally the Supreme Commander of KND. All that time… they where there. Always. Never backing down from a fight. Always refusing to give up. Always loyal…
Her hand went past the phone and touched the memorized numbers on the keypad of the ComVid. Her voice hoarse and dry she spoke the authorization codes. She was doing the one thing she always refused to do: She put her feelings before her better judgment.
The screen across the room blinked on and there stood the leader of Sector V, Number 1 himself.
"Three-hundred and sixty-two what is the emergency?" his strong yet slightly high voice entered her ears.
"No emergency Number One," She paused. Her eyes trying to see underneath those dark shades he wore. His face showing slight empathy for his leader, "Just this: Delete all information regarding the last trans."
She didn't have to say the last part. She didn't have to tell him never to bring the subject up again. For that was Number 1. He never questioned openly when other operatives were around nor would he question when she order such an order.
"Understood." Came his reply as the ComVid flicked off.
The room seemed heavier, the air thicker. Maybe the gravitation or air systems were having a glitch. She should go check on that. As she left the room she refused to look at the shatter crystal on the ground. She refused to feel her heart clenching within her chest.
A/N: …
