As he awakened, his senses came back slowly to him. His vision blurred for a second then refocused. He stared upwards at a ceiling so brightly white that it almost hurted his eyes to look at it. He turned his head to its side, hoping to get a better idea of where he was. He was rewarded by walls the same colour of the ceiling. Then, remembering his training, he looke down at himself. He was in a white robe, laying on a small steel wrough hospital bed.
So was he at a hosital? He asked himself. He tried to move his body, but the pain quickly convinced him to settle back down.A small metal cabinent and IV tree laid next to him.
'Why am I here?' he asked himself, feeling ill at ease. A steel door to his left slid open and a man came in. He was tall, well built man with dark brown hair, in his late thirties, and was in dress uniform. Godwinson swept the newcomer with his eyes. The uniform was a light gray, like clouds on a rainy day, and on the uniform was attached all forms of medals and honours. Godwinson immediately picked up on the Golden Griffen, which meant this man was in the Collective Aerospace/Planet Marine corps, CAPMC.
'I trust you are feeling better?' The man said.
Chris answered that question with another 'Who are you?'
'Captain Thomas Taylor, director of central intelligence of the CAPMC.' Godwinson had been taught to trust no one, if he was ever to be bought to a hospital after being unconcious. A ploy used by many Titan Intelligence agents, was to captures an enemy trooper, after drugging him, and to tell the Collective trooper that he was in a collective institution. The delusioned trooper will spill his guts, thinking these were his own people. This tactic had ruin no few operations.
There was more to this man than simply being DCI of the CAPMC. Over half the honours pinned to his dress uniform came from assault deploy ments, assasinations (though the Collective big wigs had trie to sweeten it up by calling it neutralization), and other combat maneauvers. He got to his present position by being more than just a field spook. If he was who he said he was of course.
'Where am I?' Chris asked despite knowing the reply had no meaning.
'6th CAPMC barracks, located on Triton.'
'Thats kinda close to major Titan Bases for a Collective barracks,' Chris Pointed out.
'We have plenty of room to ourselves. This base is built beneath Triton's surface. The magnetic field masks our energy signatures.'
'How do I know I can trust you?' Chris asked wearily. He knew the routine.
'You dont't,' Taylor smiled mockingly. 'But then again, how do I know I can trust you? For all I know, you could be a Titan soldier dressed in Collective colours. But, we try to do our best to understand each other.'
The man continued 'But I have something here which may pursuade you that I am who I say I am.' The man pulled a compact paper thin computer surface from a file folder he bought in with him, and handed it to Chris. Chris instantly reconized his military records. 'Impressive career Mr Godwinson.' Before Chris could ask how he knew who he was, Taylor said 'We have your finger prints on file.'
'I see. If you think that will win my confidence You are sorely mistaken. An enemy intelligence agency can easily have my records and finger print on file.'
'Of course,' Taylor confessed. Going on 'Son of a freighter pilot. Your father was killed during the Titan Occupation of the Neptune colonies. Mother died shortly after birth. Attended Military Training at the Collective Military Academy orbitting Uranus. Graduated at the age of 16, the joined the Drop/Para Ops, Ligh Infantry Division (DPOLID), then received promotion to corporal and joined the spec ops division of the Collective Para Marine Corps regiment 22. Then you moved to Collective 34th light infantry platoon. One question Lieutenent, and it will not require you to devulge on classified information, why did move from the Collective Para Marine Corps (CPMC), spec ops division, to the 34th light inf platoon?'
'Well,' Taylor elaborated. 'The CPMC is many times more prestigious than any Light Infatry Platoon, why did you downgrade?'
'Because, in times of war, Spec ops troopers do not fight as much battles. Do not make as much diffrent, than the average grunt.'
'So you want to make a diffrence?' he was the man for the job.
'Yes. I want the Titans to suffer for doing wrong. I want to avenge the underdogs, and more important, my father. Now let me ask you a question.'
'All right,' Chris said. 'Assuming you are who you are, how did you find us? The satellites had us jammed.'
Taylor grinned 'Not completely. We got the message, by feeding off a Titan Sattelite. We got there as soon as we could. We even had troops gathering to flank the enemy before you boys got impatient and decided to rush in yourself. We would have warned you not to, but while we feeded of that satellite, we had no guarantee that you could as well.'
'Were there any others?'
'No. They perished.and you are lucky to be alive. By the time we reached you, your oxygen had ran out and you had blacked out. It seems even lack of oxygen does not overcome the effects of the tranqilizers.'
'So Cmdr Howard, Gordon, James, they're all dead?'
'The Titan troops had slauhtered them before we managed to succesfully take them down. The only reason your alive I guess, is because hey thought you were dead. Now, onto more important matters than the past. I can prove to you I am on your side.'
'Is that so?' Chris asked skeptically.
'I can give you your mission code. 1388376429--2424.'
That shocked Chris. The mission code was unknown to anyone until the mission began. Even the platoon troopers had not been informed of the code until after take off. It was radomly generated on the ship's onboard computer. Godwinson was satisfied.
'Good to meet you, and to be able to trust you Captain Taylor.'
'And I, you.' Taylor answered. 'I have a job preposition for you Chris.'
'I'm all ears.'
'The Collective Military high command is forming a new highly classified Special Operations team. They call it black watch.'
'And you were wondering if I wanted to join?'
'What are the requirements?' Chris asked.
'Every member recruited for the team has previous spec ops training and combat experience. More importantly, they have all lost loved ones and squad mates to Titan murderers.'
Now Chris was both at once interested, and depressed. He thought of all of them, Gordon, always cool, made him the perfect sniper. James, hot headed, always knew how to break up a tense situation with a good joke. Jake... 'Tell me more.'
'Well, in a nutshell, unlike other special ops team, that are jacks of all trades, this team only does one thing. We act as funeral over seers for the Titans. To our best interests of course.'
'Assasins...' Chris hissed. This new special operations team's soul purpose was to assasinate important Titan people. If they could even be called that.
'We see them die, we make sure they're dead.'
Chris grinned for the first time in who knows how long. 'Looks like you've just got a new member.'
To be continued...