Onyx

4: General DuCorde

I strode up to the meeting room doors, flanked by my command staff. We were all done up in the dress uniform of the 2nd Cohort, the grey suits made to mimic the armour we wore on duty. To my left was my Tactical Commander, Helena Morgancroft. A thin woman of about forty years, with raven hair and blue eyes, her kind expression belayed her incredibly intellect and fierce determination. In complete contrast, on my right-hand side strode Wallace Fisk, my Master of Arms. You'd be pressed to find a more kind-hearted man than Fisk, until you saw him in battle. He had the looks to match too; standing at around six foot nine he loomed over most people, and was insanely strong to boot. He'd once gone toe-to-toe with a Tanith and emerged bloodied, but with a new dragon-tooth necklace to wear.

The rest of my Jetcruiser's bridge crew was back at Tonnbridge, overseeing the cohort's day-to-day runnings, and I damn sure wished I was back with them. I'd been summoned to a meeting of the UN Anti-Dragon Operations committee, to discuss the ongoing problem. Never something I enjoyed, especially due to the people I had to deal with.

"Want us to wait out here sir?" Helena asked, cocking her dark head to one side.

"Yes please." I glanced at my watch. "I'll fill you in afterwards. This shouldn't take too long."

Pushing open the doors, I strode in. The circular room was dark, lit only by the desk lamp on the ring-table in the middle. Assorted dignitaries and officials were seated round the table, falling silent as I entered. One man stood, a displeased expression forming on his bony face.

I knew him well; he'd been the French Representative on the committee almost as long as I had been commanding my cohort, but I'd never liked him. He was tall, skinny and skeletal, the bones of his face jutting out very at odd angles. You could trace his skull beneath his skin, the sockets of his eyes casting dark shadows underneath them, and his cheekbones looked as if they'd slice through his flesh at any moment. The skin of his face hung down like a basset hound, or as if he'd lost a lot of weight in a short space of time. His short hair stuck to his skull, slick with grease, and sweat clung to the pathetic excuse of a moustache he proudly wore.

"Ah, Commander Granger. Late, are we?" General DuCorde snarked, his reedy voice grating against my nerves.

"Don't start, Leo, let's just get this over with. I have enough on my plate managing my cohort," I replied, scowling as I took my seat. The glass door swung shut behind me, clanging on it's hinges.

"When you put it like that, it sounds as if you are struggling. Are you struggling, Commander Granger?" DuCorde asked, eyeing me arrogantly.

"No more than to be expected. The 2nd has seen an increase in operations recently, owing to the nation-wide surge in dragon activity," I said patiently. "I've already spoken to Johnson of the 1st and Nadeem of the 3rd; they're experiencing it too. Nothing we can't handle, but enough to keep us busy."

"Then don't you think it's time for more drastic measure to be taken?"

"No, Leo, I don't"

"General DuCorde, if you please" he snarled, glaring daggers at me.

"Why was this meeting called then, General DuCorde? Was it to discuss the increase of our budget, so we can continue countering dragon threats? Or is it simply another moronic attempt by you to greenlight the mass-bombing of any potential dragon zones?" I shot back, returning his look in kind.

"How dare you! I simply suggest that we might consider larger-scale operations!"

"Gentlemen, please" General McGursky cut across. As the overall chairman of the UNADO committee, he carried authority to be respected, and I fell silent. DuCorde looked like he was going to argue for a second, but lapsed grudgingly into silence too.

General McGursky waited a moment before speaking again, his powerful voice booming across the room. "Now none of us are too happy about the new regulations, but NATO put them in place for a reason, and we're only going to get ourselves court-martialed if we break them."

DuCorde began to protest again. "But the dragons don't deserve the respect they're getting! Think of all the cities they've destroyed, the people they've killed! These aren't majestic, intelligent creatures, they're mindless killing machines!"

McGursky frowned. "We know that, but blowing up huge areas of land just isn't the way to go about it."

"As usual, you're just thinking short-term. Think of the amount you'll have to bomb, think of the costs from that alone. Then think of the clean-up, the fallout and long-term damage, and at the end of the day there'll still be dragons alive, even after all that!" I said in exasperation. DuCorde shook his head.

"Cost is nothing for survival. And even if there are dragons alive at the end, then the normal military can take care of it" he said, licking his lips nervously.

"The ground forces can do nothing against the dragons, we've already seen that from the initial massacres before the Hunters were formed. The water dragons are too agile for anything the Navy has, so that counts them out too, and the Air Force can't use their weapons because of the regulations! Besides, NATO's militaries have enough on their hands coping with the insurgents in Western Asia and Eastern Europe" I shot back.

General McGursky nodded. "He's right, DuCorde. The Hunters are still the most reliable solution to this problem."

DuCorde began to sound more desperate. "If you'd just give me the funding for Project Eclipse-"

He was cut off abruptly by a suddenly furious McGursky. "DuCorde! I told you never to bring that up again! That freakshow of a project was vetoed months ago!" he shouted, his round cheeks wobbling. DuCorde seemed to shrink back into his seat, his beady eyes showing his nervousness. It wasn't like McGursky to get so angry, and I wondered what this 'Project Eclipse' was, if it got him so riled up.

McGursky stood, his chair scraping harshly back along the floor.

"Gentlemen, I see no point in continuing this meeting," he said with a pointed look at DuCorde. "I will call another in a few weeks to discuss progress, so I suggest you speak with the next representative on the rotation list so they're up to speed for next time. Good day, gentlemen"

With that, he turned and strode out, his portly figure disappearing behind a phalanx of sober-suited security guards. After a minute, the others round the table also got up to leave, muttering amongst themselves. DuCorde gave me an evil stare before he too left, striking a ridiculous pose as he walked out.

Flinging the doors open, I strode up to my aides, shaking my head.

"How was it sir?" Helena joked, seeing my expression.

"Oh, fantastic as usual. DuCorde is an arse, and always will be. Why they don't just send someone from one of the French Cohorts I have no idea" I said, running a hand through my silvery hair. "Remind me to call Nadeem when I get back, it's his turn to go to the meeting next time, so I'll need to give him the rundown"

"Yes, Sir"

I sighed, standing and taking one last glance into the darkened room I had just left. The lights still glowed slightly, fading away.

"Something's gonna change, Fisk. I don't know what, and I don't like it, but something's gonna change."