Short Stories.

Going Home 2: Resurrection

Steven sat in the truck, his cold grey eyes spanning the distance to his childhood home; he barely recognized the structure, his mother having built an addition and a large garage, the two new structures dwarfing the house they were attached to. He knew that Sam and Tommy lived in the apartment above the garage; he was right, Sam was never leaving and he thought that was a good thing, at least his mother would never be left alone. Steven knew that Beth and her little girl, Michelle or Mickey as they called her, lived in the large addition; he knew this partly because it was logical, but mostly because he had broken into the house and bugged the place; he wanted a chance to watch them for a while, to build up the courage to finally step out of the mist and face them in the sunlight. Steven laughed to himself, he remembered when he had first heard what he and his, now dead, comrades had been called; "Ghosts of the Mist", it was a rough translation of an African tribal language. They had received the moniker when doing a job in the Sudan region, taking out a particularly nasty warlord; like it had done a lot of good, the man had been replaced with someone even worse in less then a month; Mr. White thought it was poetic and the moniker stuck.

Steven watched Beth and their mother working on dinner as Tommy and Mickey set the table, with a lot of teasing and laughing; this was a happy family and he wondered if he had a right to turn their world upside down. Maybe there was no stepping from the mist, no resurrection for a ghost like him, maybe death was his only reward, the only penance that could absolve him of his many sins...

Alex, that evidently was his new name since Steven Conner had accidentally stepped on a landmine three days ago and been vaporized; he wondered if the cover stories were so unbelievable as a sign to other covert agencies, or if the people making them up were

just stupid - vaporized indeed! Steven, or Alex, he knew he needed to start thinking in terms of his cover identity; a simple slip up like that on a mission could get him killed, and in turn anyone working with him as well.

Alex didn't relish the thought of working with someone again; after his spotter had been crushed by a burning helicopter in a Middle Eastern desert over a year ago, he had worked alone exclusively, he didn't want the responsibility of another life on his hands, didn't want to have to watch someone's back. Mr. White had assured him that they would do everything in their power to entertain his wishes, most of the operatives preferred solitude as well, but some missions were just too big for a single man and he would have to learn to play with others again. Alex shook his head and wondered what kind of cabal of psychopaths he had just joined; then laughed, figuring, after what he had done to Beth's boyfriend, he would fit right in.

He continued down the white cinderblock hall, bathed in the harsh neon light like the school rooms of his childhood, the cheap tile floor echoing his footsteps to announce his arrival; he stopped at a single desk in the hall and handed his new identification to the bored looking guard. Alex knew that it was all an act, knew that this was a highly trained soldier and even in an empty hall this man would be hyper vigilant; Alex knew that the man had no choice, it was a price paid for dancing with the reaper and Alex paid it as well. The man kept one hand under the desk as he reached for Alex's paperwork and both men smiled, it was obvious that the other hand held a weapon ready to cut Alex in half if he so much as farted sideways. The man checked the paperwork, nodded and handed it back, turning and nodding to a camera that unblinkingly watched both men, his hand never leaving the weapon; Alex knew that even if you belonged here, there were several infractions that would instantly cost you your life, no review board, no trial, just instant death.

"Have a nice day!" Alex said with a snide smile, breaking the silence when he heard the soft click of the security door, indicating some one on the other side had pushed a button to unlock it; the man just continued to stare at Alex's face, no sound or emotion, as Alex turned and pushed the door open. He entered the hall and instantly noticed the walls here, while still painted white, were riveted steel instead of the ever-present cinderblock that most government buildings were constructed of; obviously these people didn't want any uninvited guests in their house - or was it to keep the invited guests from leaving? Alex nodded at the man sitting at the desk just inside the door, the desk was a clone of the first and the man could have been as well, right down to his cold stare and unemotional face; the only difference was that this man openly pointed his weapon at Alex, he had entered the inner sanctum and there was no longer any pretense of civility needed or bothered with here and the meaning was plain - follow the rules here or die!