Ensemble [Book 1: SEKTOR V Trilogy]

Chapter 2: Situation Secure

Chapter 2: Situation Secure

For the third time in as many minutes, Gus Lebancheck scanned his holographic messages and notifications but still didn't see what he was looking for.

"Where's the damn team?" he muttered.

Details of the Tropicana incident from the alternate timeline had reached him within minutes. Yet despite the Ministry's rapid response capability throughout Atlantic City, the situation was still not secure.

Gus was the man in charge of all covert Ministry investigations related to time travel. He didn't hold a fancy title since his job, at least officially, didn't even exist. The resources he required to conduct his operation came from no discernable government agency or entity. Whatever Gus needed, Gus received. For all intents and purposes, he was an untouchable ghost. Still, what mattered more than anything was that Gus Lebanchek always closed out his cases, quietly, and with minimal fanfare.

Until perhaps now...

Gus realized that this careless numbnut at the Tropicana had the potential to put his spotless record to the test.

"Maddening," he mumbled under his breath.

Just then, the message he'd been waiting for flashed directly in front of him.

<<Situation secure.>>

Gus replied, "Twenty minutes too late, Rick. Take control of the situation and make sure none of the casino henchmen screw anything up. I'll join you on-site soon."

~

Stanley sat at a table awaiting his fate in a small, windowless room somewhere in the casino. Oddly, as he sat there, he somehow felt a sense of relief. Not a good relief but something closer to resignation—like when the weight and stress of the world instantly stops pressing upon your shoulders. The grief he'd soon experience would overwhelm him, but for the moment, all he could feel was complete numbness from the shock of his situation. Still, being bloodied and beaten in his own world was a far better outcome than being orphaned in a timeline where he knew nothing and no one.

A large rectangular mirror filled the wall directly across from Stanley. Probably a one-way, he thought. Staring into it for the past thirty minutes reminded him of the endless jokes about his uncanny resemblance to Ichabod Crane. And for the most part, it was true. He was, in fact, a tall, spindly man with an oversized nose that projected an air of goofiness. The beginnings of a black eye could only add to his natural good looks while what he hoped was merely a sprained shoulder would do wonders for his posture. Oddly enough, he couldn't feel any of the pain he should have felt by now, probably because he simply didn't care. He knew he had failed...miserably. And because of his epic faceplant, he'd soon be dead along with his entire family. The fact that his wife Maria, and their children Edward, Junior, Patty, and Lauren could pay the ultimate price for his stupidity was a crushing blow. While Maria was just as blameless as the kids for their current predicament, at least she fully grasped their situation. The kids would never know.

Suddenly, the door swung open and five, maybe six men barreled through. Amid the chaos, it was tough for Stanley to tell. One thing was clear, these guys looked nothing like the "mobsters" he knew and expected to see. No, these were G-men for sure. Stereotypical dark suits with, yes, sunglasses. Whatever they'd want with him, he was certain he'd eventually have to face the people he owed large sums of money to. But for now, getting beaten up and broken down by the Men In Black was preferable to death.

As Stanley was still trying to process all of this, one of the men slipped behind him, yanked his wrists and cuffed them to the back of the chair. Stanley shrieked in sheer agony but no one in the room paid him any mind.