Ch.1: The OfferA Story by KoThe first part of a thrilling journey containing unsolved mystries, adventure and geniouses.
"Mr. Carter? They`re ready for you."
His palms were sweating and suddenly his uniform felt too tight as he followed the secretary wearing too much make-up down the prison-like hallways. When they reached two metal doors she turned to him. "Mr. Carter, I wish you the best, I really do," she smiled and he caught her not too descreat size up of him undoubtedly calculating her chances of getting him into bed with her. He nodded once. She bit her bottom lip and turned back down the hallway. Carter faced the two doors, as if on impulse they swung inwards immediately. Holding his breath he stepped through them. "Have a seat Mr. Carter." Before him was a single chair, before the chair was a long metal table with six seats. Five men sat at the table dressed in grand uniforms decorated with metals and ribbons. The man who had spoken sat in the middle, the chair to his right was empty. "Troy Carter, twenty-three years old, caption of the football team in high school located in Dallas, Texas, recieved many awards and metals while in duty, was considered top of his squad while in training and spent approximately four months in Iraq," the austrailian accent caught Carter off gaurd. The man who had addressed him sat at the far end of the table on the left. His short brown hair, tanned skin and cocky white smile left Carter resenting him, "Well aren`t you just the model citizen," he gave a small chuckle, a few others snickered along with him. "That`s enough Donovon." The man who had spoken first had an open file sitting infront of him, "Carter, do you know why you`re here?" "No, sir." Carter had been given instructions from his squad leader the day before to report there in uniform without any explination. "We have been watching you for sometime now," the man began flipping through the pages before him, "You have done well in your time serving the United States and we salute you for that. We also noticed that you are not married and have no family besides an uncle, whom you do not speak with, who is how old now? Seventy-four?" "Yes, sir. How do you-" "Don`t ask questions," a blonde man on the other side of the empty chair picked at his fingernails with a knife. "We`re interviewing you remember?" Their leader sighed and continued, "Who you see sitting before you are the world`s best soldiers. They each have something ingenious about them whether it be having the ability to shoot over a thousand shots and never miss their target," the aussi grinned and pounded his fist twice on the table, "Or having a head count of over one million." A massive bald man literally covered from head to toe in tatoos leaned forwards across the table his teeth which were mostly covered in metal barred in a loathing snarl. Carter flinched. "You have a talent that none of these protegies possess," Carter blanched, what could he have that none of these men had? "You have a unique and extordinary eye for battle stradegy. Ever notice how your squad was always one or two steps ahead of the others in training? Or how the team you were with in Iraq never lost one man while others lost hundreds? That`s because your leader got smart quick and started listening to your war plans. Trust me, we would have contacted you earlier if your squad leader hadn`t hid the fact that it was you and not him that was making the decisions," he gestured up and down the table, "These are the elite, to join them is a one time offer, to join them is to join a brotherhood. Together, we kill the guilty, protect the unprotected and save the innocent," he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture, "Are you with us?" Carter hesitated no more than ten seconds, "I`m in." © 2010 KoAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on September 11, 2010 Last Updated on September 13, 2010 AuthorKoAboutI am studying abroad and have been reading a LOT. I`ve started seeing everday things (people, buildings, gradens, interactions, etc.) and describing them in my head like I would in a novel. My solutio.. more..Writing
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