Two hours ago, July 4th, 6am.Jordan stood in front of the monitors, feeling rather like a child waiting for his mother to give him his supper. Jordan never liked the Aesir Initiative's way of dealing with briefings. The room was small and rather dark, with three monitors five feet above Jordan's head.
They began to switch on. The shadows of the Directors look down on him.
"Svenson, we have a mission for you." The female director said. She had a Danish accent, and Jordan would have felt a vague sense of Swedish superiority if he gave a shit about Sweden or Denmark.
"What is it?" Jordan asked, not wanting to extend the conversation.
"A man needs to die in America." The man on the rightest board said. He had a deep voice, almost inhumanly deep. "I'm sure you know where that is."
"The island. That's all that's left, anyway." Jordan nodded, lit the gloom of the monitors. "Who is he?"
"We don't know, but he's been causing trouble." She said, still as serious as a businesswoman. "He operates in the shadows. We're working around the clock to see if we can figure something out. They call him Red."
Jordan sighed. He hated this kind of mission. Nothing to go on but vague clues, dead bodies and tracks in the dirt. And he had to fuck around in what was left of the United States of America! "Do I have to wear that uniform? The ninja one?"
"Yes, you do, Jordan." The middle guy said. "It's not a ninja uniform. It's the Aesir --"
"Don't care. Give me an hour to prepare."
"Of course, Svenson." The female one seemed to smile, as there was a glint of teeth. "Get this guy, and we might have a foothold."
***
4th of July, present time, 8:00am.A lot of people go skydiving for a change of pace, for excitement. Jordan didn't really see the point in that, because he did it all the time and didn't feel any different. Of course, people say suicide is good for excitement and a change of pace, and he did that twice. Once for a lark, another to spite his psych. No matter how he explained it, his psych always looked strangely at Jordan. Before, of course, the psych slashed his throat out, for some reason.
Ah, wait... That may have been me.Jordan landed on the rocky, volcanic ground with a thump, as the parachute drifted down around him. He stood up and ripped away the strings around him, and looked around. The volcano, of course. Azrebaji Peak, as it was called, was last active in 1852, the ash cloud even reached New York and stopped any hope of a permanent settlement until 1902, when it stopped. Then the city was built around it, and it was judged to be inactive in 1952. The nickname for the city was even "The Steam City", due to the extreme amount of hot springs around the volcano. He'd have to look out for those. Hot steam is not fun.
He walked down the mountain, and looked toward the crumbling ruins of what was Downtown. He needed more subtle clothes then what he had, and there had to be clothing stores in the downtown area.
If he could, he'd find a radio and call Aesir, then ask them what's up. He knew the frequency (405.4) and what to say (Zero niner, this is Alpha Tango, requesting information, you copy, over.), so it wouldn't be a shot in the dark.
Hopefully, they would have figured something out.
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Topic: City of Exceptional People! (Become Heroes?) (Read 5942 times)