A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Two

Squad enters the office of Richard Fisk, deputy director of the DIA, but he's not in the mood for pleasantries.

"What happened at Guggenheim? Are we studying alien technology?"

Richard Fisk is a brown-skinned human man in his late thirties, who has worked his way to the top strata of government from the very bottom in a relatively short period of time. Little is known about his past but his physical appearance suggests he's from the country of Indira, the most easternly point of the Samarian Empire. It's clear he's also very good at his job or he wouldn't have risen to his current position, from what rumour describes as youthful poverty.

Fisk sits calmly at his desk, while Squad paces expectantly. "Calm down, Squad. We don't know why Lord Scipio went AWOL."

"AWOL? He went fucking apeshit!"

"And that is something I've discussed with the emperor himself, and the prime ministers of the constituent nations. They've decided to revoke his spectre status and put you in charge of detaining him. It's terrible what happened, but these are acceptable losses."

Squad almost hits the roof. "Acceptable losses?"

Fisk nods calmly, his quiet, mesmerising voice ebbing with sharp points. "Guggenheim is a small town of several hundred people in an empire which spans continents. A population of over three hundred million, over half a dozen races occupying ten countries and we're responsible for all of it."

Squad captures Fisk's gaze and resolutely holds it. "I know my responsibilities."

"Do you?" Fisk's delivery of the question is slow and terrific, filled with power and promise, and the suggestion of sacrifices both grand and secret. "The Defence Intelligence Agency has many projects, and only The Spider knows them all: nations within nations, secrets within secrets." The Spider is the mysterious head of Samarian intelligence and no one knows who he is, or who she is, or who they are. Some say The Spider is like a second emperor, an emperor of dark secrets and breakaway civilisations. Fisk is as high up as it's possible to put a face to in the intelligence community. Only The Spider is higher, so Fisk sees a lot. "I'll look into what we've studied and what we haven't studied with regards to alien technology, but for now—Pagoda!"

Fisk presses the magical intercom and an agent, presumably Pagoda, enters. Pagoda is a Gamuk, a race native to the far eastern country of Indira, and is between seven and eight feet tall, has dark orange skin and a distinctive stone-like natural structure on his head almost like a helmet that travels all the way down his spine. Of course, it's not possible to see that far down because he's wearing armour and has a huge broadsword strapped to his back.

Fisk smiles. "Pagoda, can you bring Anya Fitzwallis in here?"

The large Gamuk nods and steps out for a moment, re-entering with a brunette woman in her mid-twenties. Squad turns fully and takes notice. Fisk smiles at the spectre's reaction and makes the introductions as Pagoda leaves, closing the door behind him.

"This is Agent Anya Fitzwallis, one of our most promising operatives."

Smiling, Anya offers a lilywhite hand to Squad, who takes it and is impressed by her strong handshake. She's clearly a field agent. "It's good to meet you, spectre."

"Please, call me Squad."

Fisk's eyes dart between them, smiling. "You can pick your own team for this mission, or even go it alone if you want, but I'd recommend taking a small, select group of skilled operators. You never know what resources or contacts Lord Scipio will employ, so it's best to prepare for as many possibilities as you can."

*

Anya and Squad are walking along a corridor in the DIA building.

Turning to Squad, Anya smiles. "So, what's your story?"