PROJECT SPARTA

CHAPTER 15

Andrews Air Force Base, DC

Hangar C

2016

The V-22 neared airplane hangar C and followed the waving directions of two red illuminated wands. Hovering over the landing zone, the magnanimous aircraft descended to the ground in heaved motions as if it were a monster exhaling. The engine was cut, the beast sputtered a sigh and Xander popped out of the cockpit. The news of Xander's stealing of the V-22 had already circulated the base. He was met by a myriad of reactions - half did not appreciate his rogue behavior, half admired it – but all were unsure of who he was.

Xander strutted a swag in his step, as he had called into the Air Force Base with his code name, a name that was above the law and above everyone's security clearance. Those on the ground only knew he was blacker than black ops and not to mess with him. It was guys like him they had only heard rumors about, the military's version of ghost stories. Normal transport protocol had been broken and Xander had come out from the shadows.

"Sir?" To Xander's surprise, someone spoke to him.

"Yeah..." He wanted to be invisible, but he guessed that was too much to ask for when he arrived in a massive aircraft he stole from Bagram.

"I've been instructed to escort you to the hangar. Someone is there to see you," Xander nodded and followed the unassuming officer across the landing strip to a hangar. It was the largest hangar on the grounds. The structure stood as a large enclosed hexagon and was the most secure hangar in the world due to the massive Boeing VC-25 it harbored. This plane was better known as Air Force One. Xander walked under its blue and white fuselage, past the Presidential Seal and across the hangar toward the corner. There, an old TV set blinked upon a very large, bald man.

"Been awhile Axle, how you doing?" Captain Axle's goatee had grayed, showing the aging that the Project had on him. With Hardy ascending the political ladder, as of late, Axle was the primary operational handler of the Spartans. Hardy had become a valuable consultant to the White House on all things covert.

"Oh, you know me..." Axle's intimidating demeanor, fizzled out after training -- his voice carried a rasp behind it, as his career of barking had finally caught up to him. Axle had a strange relationship with the Spartans. He couldn't call himself their superior anymore, for they had surpassed him in every area. He preferred the term 'handler' as it nuanced reeling in their havoc. Axle used to come off more like a drill sergeant but not had aged into a more of a grumpy old friend.

Axle, arms folded, turned from the television and glanced at the massive aircraft, still powering down, outside the hangar.

"If you weren't the best, you know, you wouldn't get away with half of the shit you get away with." Xander couldn't help but smirk at one of the only compliments he had ever received from Axle.

"I'll try to be more... discrete next time." Xander smirked and then returned to the television where Axle's eyes focused.

"The world's going to hell," Axle said as his eyes remained locked on the television screen, glowing in its flashing colors.

A Broadcast News Association, or BNA, news report was airing, the headline read "Metro Bombing in DC".

"You have to be shitting me," Xander sighed.

"Agent Zero has already claimed responsibility for it," Axle reported distantly.

"How many dead?" Xander's tone dropped from the thought, depressed and saddened by the news.