The Gathering

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Chapter Fifty-Three

     “…And that’s how it ended?” His voice carries a hint of doubt, as he checks her over, looking over her many obvious bruises and lacerations. The CO is a massive man, mostly a machine with two third’s of his body robotically augmented with bionics -- the result of an incident, back in his days as an active Captain in the Republican Army. He was a young, ambitious Officer with much enthusiasm for the reclamation of the former society of the United States of America. However, she has watched that light fade, as he grew old and tired of the cause and the war against the existing Government, in the Coalition of Humanity.

     “Primarily.” She mocks in a veiled tone.
     “What do you mean by that?” He questions, looking at her covered cleavage as a focus to his attention.
     “Well, the clean up crews arrived shortly there after, with Deano Bravo disappearing in the haze of their arrival.” She shifts, covering her breasts from his sight with her forearms.
     “Of Sam Haynes?” He continues to stare despite her attempt.
     “His body disappeared with Kurse’s. I didn’t see it though, for I was unconscious at the time.” Her tone becomes more overt as her concern-strewn face contorts and grimaces at his persistence.
     “So it’s presumable that Deano Bravo took it with him.” As though sensing her discomfort, he shifts his focus and looks toward his humidifier for one of his sacred cigars.
     “I never thought of it that way, but sure.” Relieved that he finally got the message.
     “And of the Artifacts?”
     He was far from a stupid man, she realizes. “Returned to the Pantheons, upon my bidding.”
     He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Rage becomes his demeanor where his face falls under a red embossment. “Who gave you that authority?” He curses, rising to find support from his desk. The cigar crumbles under his grip as he continues to push against the desk.
     “I gave myself that authority. Least you forget Colonel. I am still a founding member of this society and report to you only as a precautionary measure, to avoid any unwanted conflict between our departments. Do not question my judgment in these matters where you have little place to assert yourself over me. Have I made myself clear?” Her temper can flare just as readily and with a greater flame on her torch. “Colonel?”
     His response is his ass returning to his seat with him looking upon his broken cigar and quaking hands in embarrassment. His lips utter no words. An uncomfortable moment passes with their silence until he realizes the time. As though urging toward a defined point; “If there is nothing further?” He questions, still looking at his trembling hands.
     “No.” She salutes in their customary manner and turns to leave. However, in her shift she pauses as though in recollection or realization of an afterthought. “Yes there is.” She reaches into the breast of her vest and pulls out a small, simple, white envelope. As she turns to return her stare upon the Colonel, she drops the envelope onto his desk and says nothing more. She turns and leaves. As she opens the door, the Colonel calls out; “What is it?” His voice, still shacking from their debate.
     “My resignation.” She states as she fades beyond the door, it slamming as it closes.

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Chapter Fifty-Four

     “Schenksorrwant -- Zwie mehr biers.” He motions over the bar man for two other beers.

     “Where did you learn to speak German?” Carter asks, approaching him from behind.
     “I can’t get rid of you can I?” His voice, a subtle rasp that digs at the back of the throat. His indignation is enough to assure her that his was in good spirits.
     “Hey! A promise is a promise.” She helps herself to the seat beside him. As she sits, she recognizes the two stumps of missing digits that grow on his left hand. “Is that him?” At which he offers a simple smile. “I feel that this is going to be the birth of a perfect union.” She smiles, her vision of going solo now on its way to realization. The bar man arrives with two more drinks and places them on the table.
     “Danke.” He says as he notices the credits and the tip at the edge of the table. There is enough for a third drink, plus the tip. He looks at the extra amount with question in his eyes.
     “Einz für unsër freünd mit gechirr-Harnisch.” She points out the massive bald man who sits in the dark light corner of the bar.
     “Bitte.” Deano thanks him, as the bar man looks upon the Juicer and takes the money.