The Brave

Chapter Six: Darce's Perspective

"Have you got him yet?" I sneer. Fools. Worthless fools, the lot of them. Taking a 17 year old boy into custody shouldn't be like taking down a government. And trust me, it took a lot of meticulous strategy, influence, and planning to get to where I am. It's literally and insult to me that this situation even needs my attention. He's a mere child. He should be captured. I need him captured. Right. Now.

"Darce, sir, it should've been an easy mission, an in and out, but we seemed to have lost him amidst the crowd of people in the Bar Tent."

I look at this man, a petty lieutenant from the Town in Sector 38. I see the fear clouded in his eyes. I curl my lip into a smirk. I stare into his eyes watching the fear dance and leap and twirl and I try to read it's secrets. Fear is what I live on. Fear is the most powerful thing in the world. And I have bent it to my will.

"Get him. Get Archer. Or I will end you. Do you understand?"

He nods, not meeting my gaze.

"Good," I say, lips still curled into a smile. "Now get out."

As soon as the lieutenant leaves in a quiet rush, my hand flies up to my temple as I squint my eyes at the pain of a migraine. They visit me regularly now.

My closest advisor, a long time friend, one I grew up with and probably the only being in my administration who has any sense and knowledge looks at me quizzically from behind his desk, noticing my pain. His polished wooden desk sits right across from mine on the opposite side of the room. His feet, covered by impeccably polished black shoes, are resting atop the desk. He's been reading a book for the past hour now, listening to the quaint conversations and squabbles that I've been having with my worthless administrators. He's stayed silent the whole time, occasionally smirking when a mere plebian makes an outstandingly stupid excuse. But now, he speaks up, with the pleasant tone he always uses.

"Darce, have you met with Doctor Prait recently?"

I glance up at my fri...no..I never use the word friend. Friends are dangerous and I can't afford having them. I glance up at my advisor from underneath my raised hand. "Do call him would you, Pheonix? But as you know, keep it quiet. No one must know of this weakness. Oh, and Pheonix? Get me some whiskey."

He closes his book with an amused smile, removes his feet from the desk and rises to his feet in an instant. He raises his thumb upward in acknowledgement, then, casually walks out the door, whistling.

When he leaves, I pull out a piece of paper and write a list.

1) I need an administration full of Pheonixs'

2) This weakness of migraines needs to be purged from me

3) I need Archer Garrett in custody, and I need him now before everything I have built goes to hell.

I sigh. Well, Rome wasn't built in a day.