The Program [COMPLETED]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"I'm sure by now that many of you have heard about the rebel infiltration of the Second Unit radio tower and transmission room last night," Xylem began, his voice dripping with malice.

No one in Debriefing Room One said anything to counter the General's statement. Even the usual ripple of murmurs across the collection of Officials was absent during Xylem's meeting. Everyone knew better than to say anything, especially with Xylem as riled up as he was. Aiden sat back in his chair, his mind reeling while he did his best to focus on whatever the General was saying. Roman's note had caught him very off guard, undoing all the careful work Aiden had done to file away his thoughts for the day during his training session. Now they were burned into his memory like a wildfire, destroying everything in their path, deterring his concentration.

"There are  approximately forty Officials who have been admitted to the Medical Bay," Xylem continued. "All of them have suffered some sort of injury, whether it be a fractured finger or a broken arm or a dislocated shoulder. The question I'd like to ask is, how did these rebels get inside headquarters to begin with, and just how were they so formidable against forty of our finest recruits? These are your companions, soldiers who share the same ranks as you."

Again, Xylem was met with absolute silence as every soldier in the room held their breath, unsure of what to say. The General narrowed his eyes to slits.

"You see, gentlemen," Xylem's voice began to rise. "I'm losing my patience. How are we supposed to win a war if we're unable to eliminate three measly rebels who decide to jump beyond our walls? Do you find this amusing?"

Aiden swallowed the growing lump in his throat as the General's cold eyes bore into his own. Digging, Aiden attested. Digging for secrets, for information, for the mere shred of detail necessary for his demise. Not that Aiden wasn't already a suitable candidate for death anyways. How many more times could he tempt fate before it finally got the better of him?

"Have none of you anything to say?" Xylem growled. "This isn't just a war anymore, gentlemen. Oh, no. It's much more personal now."

Colonel Asphodel spoke up in a calm, measured tone. "The severity of the situation has been recognized, General. As per your request, the new schedule has been administered to all of the recruits under our command, including those within the other remaining Units. We have taken actions to ensure it will never happen again. Even the Crime Officials within the neighboring cities have begun open investigations into the identities of the culprits. We will find them, and they will be punished, sir."

Xylem gazed at her, his lips drawing into a thin line. Aiden analyzed him intently, seeing the small twitches in his facial expressions and bracing himself for the worst. The thin layer that was Xylem's composure was rapidly coming apart, and it would only be seconds until it was gone completely.

"These words, spoken so confidently, so unwitting as to how meaningless they are to me," the General snarled.

Aiden closed his eyes. There it was. The final crack in Xylem's collected exterior.

"I want increased security checks. Mandatory bunk searches. No one leaves or enters this Unit without me knowing about it!" Xylem shouted across the table. He picked up the metal chair he'd been sitting in only seconds prior and threw it across the room at full force, his eyes smoldering with rage. A handful of Officials leaped out of the way in order to avoid any collision with the thrown chair. Aiden flinched, along with the rest of Xylem's Officials, as the chair slammed into the wall and clattered to the floor. Aiden looked over to assess the damage. There was a prominent, deep dent in the wall where the chair had struck, and the chair's legs were misshapen and bent at unsavory angles.