Titan: The Dark Path

Life Goes On

Tim Steele raced to the front door. He didn't think the knocking was real at first. He sat up and listened. His eyes drifted to the newspaper on his nightstand with a blurry picture of Titan swinging off of a roof; the headline read: "Who Is 'Titan'? Details Behind The Prom Night Massacre" Below the feature article was a smaller, but no less troubling article: "No Leads For Missing Capitol U. Girls."

When the knocking came again, he pushed off of the bed cringing through the sharp pain in his shoulder. He raced down the hall, turned the corner, and yanked the door open. He expected to see his son. But it wasn't Eric. Tim didn't like the look of the man that stood there instead.

The man wore an army dress uniform with a cap. The lone star on his uniform meant he was a brigadier general. Tim regarded him with caution. There was no one else on the porch with him, but there was a black town car parked at the end of the driveway partly in the street. The man waited with his arms calmly at his sides and wore a friendly expression. He appeared to pose no threat, but Tim had learned the lesson about wolves in sheep's clothing first hand more than once.

"Mr. Steele?" the man asked. He had no discernible accent or affectation. Just a "gee-gosh," white bread American soldier.

Tim looked at him with hard eyes hoping that if he stared long enough the man's designs would be made plain to him. It didn't work. The man simply stared back confident Tim would answer. Finally, Tim nodded.

"I'm Alex Conway, a brigadier general with the U.S. Army. How do you do, sir?" he said.

"I can read an army rank, General. What can I do for you?" Tim was done with the conversation and it hadn't yet started.

"May I come in?"

Tim's face was stone. "No, this is fine."

Conway's face softened. "This is delicate, sir. Please. I'd rather not air dirty laundry in public in front of your neighbors like this. I won't be but a moment."

Tim eyed him another moment longer and then pushed the screen door open. Conway accepted the open door and stepped into the foyer. He clasped his hands behind his back and went no further. Tim didn't plan on letting him in further so it worked out.

"Is your wife home, sir? Mrs. Steele?"

"General, you should know that I have a gun in my belt," Tim said, cutting through the bullshit then and there.

At this, Conway hesitated and remained very still. He swallowed and although it had faded, his smile wasn't completely gone. He slowly and deliberately put his hands at his sides. They were empty. "I assure you, Mr. Steele, there's no need for weapons. I'm here to explain something. When I'm done I'll leave. Fair enough?"

A door closed in Tim's periphery, down the hall, in Sarah's old room. Nancy Steele appeared behind him, saw the situation, and entered with care. Her eyes were dark and red. "Who's this?"

Conway's face brightened and he looked to answer, but Tim cut him off. "General Conway from the Army has something to tell us and then he's leaving." Tim gestured for Conway to get on with it.

"I'm here to apologize and to tell you that the government has no quarrel with you or your son," Conway said. "Colonel Gregor Smithe was acting on his own with a unit of disgraced near-washouts. They defied orders and went rogue. Everything associated with them has been shut down. You have nothing to fear from us."

Tim stared at him and didn't reply. An old, instinctual anger arose in him. His body tensed and calmed only when Nancy put her hand on his arm. Ultimately, she responded.

"Why come here and tell us this? I've seen the news and read the papers, there's no mention of the military anywhere in the coverage of what happened. You've clearly kept it quiet. Why admit to anything?"