"Mr. Carlson. Please take a seat."
Ryan sat down in front of the President. He had to say he didn't quite expect this. The President of the nation? Here to see nobody like him? Didn't he have other, more important things to work on? There were millions of soldiers inside the United States, with a significant portion being as good as he was.
But there was only a handful of Special Forces majors in the Phasewalkers, with few as good as him.
"Mr. President. This is a pleasure." Ryan greeted quietly.
"I sincerely hope that test back there didn't make you feel uncomfortable." The President said with a polite look on. "We had to be sure you are really who you appear to be."
Ryan nodded. As he eyed the leader of the nation, he had to admit the first moment he realized this was a set-up, he felt some irritation of his loyalty being toyed with. Yet, it soon occurred to him that this was the right thing to do. If the United States was spending this much of the taxpayer's money on certain individuals, it was only right that they make sure they invest in the right people.
People that would pay their trust with their lives. People like him.
His irritation disappeared into thin air.
"Mr. Carlson, I think it has become apparent to you that the entire mission was a test, but Agent Arnold wasn't the only one who was testing you. Colonel Sherman and his secretary have both filed reports on your performance in the base. We even had a few observers in the field to watch how you perform in combat. They all told the same story about you that Agent Arnold and your instructors did."
"Which is?" Ryan tilted his head.
"Remarkably calm. Technically brilliant. A complete lack of display of emotions. A lack of desire for interpersonal relationships or communication outside of what the mission mandates. More importantly, a man of his words."
Ryan nodded. He wasn't surprised.
The President took out a piece of paper from a stack of files and laid it out on the table between the two.
"The psychologist who did your initial evaluation never shared the results with you, right?"
"She did, actually."
"And what exactly did she say?"
"She said I have Schizoid Personality Disorder and, as a result, Anhedonia."
"What does that mean?"
"A lot of things. In terms of my job, it means I can kill and torture people without remorse when I need to. It means I can keep a clear mind under pressure. It means I will always be goal-oriented because I will not have any personal attachments that matter enough to me to risk endangering the mission."
He didn't talk about what it meant in terms of his personal life. It was irrelevant here.
"Ah, so the perfect leader. Capable of making tough choices at will." The President crossed his fingers.
"No," Ryan corrected. "not the perfect leader. Being a leader requires interacting with people and good emotional quality. I am a better soldier than a leader."
The President nodded his head at Ryan's comment.
"Either way, I have a mission for you, Recruit Ryan. From what I saw and heard, you are the perfect candidate." He continued as Ryan nodded. "We will be launching an operation into World Alpha in just days. A single squad. 15 units. You will be among them, acting as their commanding officer."
"I'm sorry," Ryan objected once again. "but I will have to refuse that offer. I will not be a good commanding officer."
The President tilted his head. "Very well, then who do you suggest?"
"Hemley. Hemley Barnes. He is a natural leader and a good soldier. More importantly, he's from a military background. He will be loyal and determined." Ryan thought about it briefly before coming up with a choice. He has been training with these recruits for weeks. He knew who worked hard and who slacked off better than any instructor.
"I will take that into consideration." The President nodded, but he wasn't finished. "Whoever the captain of the expedition is, I want to give you another task."
Ryan leaned forward. The President's expression was dead serious, just the way Ryan liked.
"As you must have seen, not all the recruits in Project Phasewalker are as...sensible as you are." The President let his words out slowly and carefully as he observed Ryan's reaction. "We have put a lot of resources into the project. I had to raise the taxes so much I will probably never get elected for another term. There is no way I will allow the mission to fail because of certainly flawed individuals."
He waited before Ryan to nod in understanding once again before continuing.
"I want you to keep an eye on your peers. If you find anything or anyone that may compromise the mission, you are authorized to remove them with any means necessary...even if the person in question is your captain. I am trusting you to do whatever you think is needed to complete the mission."
Ryan answered with a simple nod.
"Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Carlson?" The President repeated. He knew Ryan probably did, but it was really difficult to tell from his never-changing expression.
"I do. If someone goes to the other side and decides to stay there and desert, I am authorized to put a bullet in his head. I am basically a commissar."
Commissar. Political officers in the late Soviet Union whose job was to ensure the soldiers around them keep fighting by any means necessary. Their power was tremendous, but it also took a certain amount of resolve to be good at the task.
"And you are fine with it?"
Ryan nodded. "We all signed a contract. I have no respect for people who turn against their words."
The President nodded, barely containing his satisfaction. This was almost too good. He quickly took out a pen and a notepad.
"You have done your part of the deal, so let me up mine. How does $20,000 a month sound?"
Ryan nodded. He didn't answer the President's offer to double his compensation with modesty. This was part of the deal, and there was no rooms in deals for being friendly. It was merely a transaction, nothing more.
Just the way he liked it.
"You will report directly to me after the mission," It was at this moment that the President finally showed why he was the one here, not some low-level officer. "you will be my eyes among the Phasewalkers."
"I understand," But Ryan had something more to say. "but Mr. President, I also want to make something clear."
"Yes?"
"My deal is with Section X and the U.S. government. That is where my loyalty lies." His words were quiet. "I want you to be well aware of that."
The President slowly nodded. He knew what Ryan meant. Ryan was only doing this for him because he was the Commander in Chief. If the President wanted to use Ryan for his personal agendas, then he should really think twice.
---
That was a day ago. After that, Ryan returned to Eagle's Nest and spent some of the time to improve his skills. Arnold might have been an undercover agent, but the fact that he was captured and trapped so easily still made him annoyed.
Now, Ryan was here, lying down on his bed and staring at the extra $20,000 in his personal bank account.
The thing was, Ryan had no intention of spending them. All he wanted to be the power that money represented. $20,000. 4,000 boxes of Sprite. 20 of the newest iPhone. Approximately 40% of the newest Chevrolet Suburban vehicle.
To Ryan, the products he could purchase was never worth as much as the feeling of control that he could have with this amount of money at his disposal, knowing he could own so many things with just a few clicks.
Slowly, he reached inside the same cabin and pulled out a phone. He quietly Facetimed a number saved in the contacts. Before the first ring of the bell could end, the call was answered.
A tall man was on the other side of the call.
"Dad," Ryan said quietly.
"Ryan," The answer was simple. "what is it?"
"There will be an expedition tomorrow into World Alpha. I will be a part of it."
The immediate relatives of Phasewalkers were allowed to know what their sons and daughters were doing. Otherwise, no one would agree with sending their children away for weeks and weeks, much less have them risk their lives. While some parents were fine with it, most weren't. Nonetheless, they didn't have much of a choice.
Ryan's father was one of the minorities. Instead of telling Ryan to be safe or be careful, he went the other direction.
"Do your duty. Make your family proud."
Ryan nodded slowly. His face, blank.
---
On the other end, another pair of parents wasn't reacting as nicely.
"That's not happening!" Mr. Hunter slammed his palm into the table, causing a large bam. "I am contacting your superiors now! My daughter is not going to go into a battlefield! This was not part of the deal!"
Usually, Mrs. Hunter would be reacting to the bam over anything else, but this time was one of the few exceptions. She covered her mouth with her hands and felt her eyes water. "Caity...no! Why you?"
Caity sighed. She knew this was going to be hard, but this was already off to such a bad start! Well, she just had to be patient.
"First of all, dad, this is exactly what I signed up for." She stated quietly. "Why me? Because I'm the best. Well, one of the best."
"The best of what?" Mr. Hunter snapped. "Fighting people? Shooting people? You're a child, for Christ's sake! Oh...how did we let this happen? We should've pulled you out of the program the first thing we did! God...if I knew this was what they're gonna do to you, I would never have let that agent in the door!"
A child who has killed several people and will probably kill several more. Caity thought darkly, as she did her best to resolve her parents' doubt. "I have to do this, dad. This is my job…"
"Your job is to stay home and be a student!"
"And then what?" Caity was close to snapping as well as she raised her voice. "Stay home? Go to college? Find a boy and get married? That's not what I want, dad!"
"Then what do you want? Put your life at risk? Go and be a soldier?" Mrs. Hunter sighed. "At least tell us you are going as a noncombatant! Maybe a medic or something?"
Caity bit her lips and evaded that topic. Something told her informing her already terrified parents she was one of the two Special Forces soldiers on the task might not be the best idea. "Yeah, something like that."
"This is insane." Mr. Hunter stood up and went for the phone. "Even government agencies can't force kids to go to war. You're not even at the age for Selective Service yet! I will call every news agency about this..."
But Caity was one step further. She demonstrated how much she has learned in Eagle's Nest as she leaped forward and knocked the phone off the table.
"What are you doing?" Mr. Hunter's patience was depleted. His words were more shouted than spoken.
In the past, whenever Caity saw her father like this, she would learn to back off and give in to his demands, but not anymore. She has literally shot people. She has been shot at. It would take much more than a disappointed father to chase her off.
"Preventing you from committing a felony. If you call those news agencies, it will be treason."
Mr. Hunter screamed and slammed his fist into the wall so hard the white wall caved in. His wife immediately walked up to him and helped him to the couch to sit down.
"I am sorry, mom, dad, but this is something I have to do." Caity quietly set a debit card on the lunch table. "All my compensation will be wired there. $10,000 a month...no matter what happens."
She has been noted that even if she died, the money would keep on coming.
"We don't want your money!" Mrs. Hunter did her best to contain her tears. "We want you, Caity! We want you to stay with us! Screw World Alpha! Screw the government! We just want you to be safe!"
Caity lowered her head. Her eyes started to water. For a moment, she really wanted to give in, but she was no longer the ignorant teenager she was a month ago.
First of all, she herself couldn't survive the guilt of letting her comrades down. There was nothing worse in the military than a deserter. Hemley. Ryan. Christian. Jack. Ava. These were all her friends and brothers and sisters in arms that she has been training with for weeks. She could never betray them.
Plus, the consequences of bailing was much more than she could possibly handle. Fail to report in tomorrow, and the government would be after her and anyone who helped her. To make an example of the deserters, Section X wouldn't stop until they have put her and anyone who tried to help her in prison for felonies.
Plus, deep down, Caity knew she wanted to go, just like she wanted to step into that bank and take out the robbers. She lusted for the feeling of having weights on her shoulder. The rush of adrenaline of being shot at. Even the brief instant of firing a bullet into someone's head and claiming the life.
In fact, she would go as far as saying she enjoyed the pain of being injured.
She had only one choice, and that was a choice she would gladly go with.
Most people knew drugs, alcohol, smoking, and even screens could cause addictions. Who knew combat had the same effect?
"I'm sorry," Caity whispered before turning around and leaving the room.
On the kitchen table, a debit card shined under the overhead light.