Prime (Chess Team Adventure, #0.5)

They had been in Decon for two full days, sleeping on cots, eating MREs, watching TV and playing X-Box games and generally going stir-crazy waiting for the hammer to fall. Rook had joked that they were “stuck in Limbo,” and King thought that was pretty close to the truth.

Then, on the afternoon of their second day, the door was thrown open. General Keasling strode into the room. He made a low growling sound when Rook, sprawled on a couch with a game controller in hand, threw him a casual wave, but his expression was otherwise unreadable. He strode to the corner of the table where King was sitting with the others, and calmly put his hands behind his back.

Keasling wasn’t alone.

A second figure entered right behind him. King had to do a double-take to recognize the man who had traded in his combat fatigues for blue jeans and Star Wars T-shirt; it was Lewis Aleman.

“Lew!”

Just seeing the Delta sniper filled King with a stew of emotions. Parker and Aleman had been friends, and the latter’s presence was a harsh reminder of just how much King had lost along the way. Still, it was good to see a friendly and familiar face.

Aleman’s right hand looked like the end of a Q-tip, swathed in bandages, but he looked otherwise none the worse for wear. He had a laptop computer tucked under his arm, and he promptly stepped in front of Rook and plugged a cable from the computer into the X-Box.

“Hey!” Rook protested as his virtual re-enactment of D-Day was replaced by a blank screen, but Aleman just threw him a mischievous grin and started tapping on his keyboard.

“Game over,” Keasling said in flat voice. “Deep Blue wants to talk to you.”

Here it comes, King thought.

“Got it,” Aleman announced.

A spherical object—King recognized it immediately as a web cam—now rested atop the television, but it was the image on the screen that commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

The silhouetted figure, a fit-looking man with short hair—either a military buzz cut or a receding hairline, King couldn’t tell for sure—was framed in the display. The man regarded them for a moment before speaking.

“It’s good to finally see you all,” he said, in the same electronically distorted voice they knew well from previous radio communications.

King realized that the others were all waiting for him to respond. “Likewise,” he began, and then added. “Sort of.”

“Forgive the theatrics,” Deep Blue said. “At present, it is necessary to keep my identity a secret, but I sincerely hope that one day I will be able to meet you face-to-face. And let me apologize for keeping you here so long; I had my hands full trying to cover your tracks in France. That said, I think congratulations are in order.”

King was by nature suspicious of praise from his superiors, but usually he knew better than to question it aloud. This time however, his caution kicked in a moment too late. “Sir?”

“You all showed exceptional valor. If you were in a traditional unit, I would see to it that you all received the highest commendation. Alas, all I can offer you is more work.”

King glanced at the others.

Queen’s eyes were alight with anticipation. This was what she had dreamed of when joining the Army; a chance to prove herself, to test her limits in the most extreme ways possible. There was no better reward for someone like her than to be thrown back into the fire.

Bishop was not so easy to read. Although he kept a tight rein on his emotions, he always looked like he was just a few seconds from critical mass…except right now, he looked almost serene, or at least as close to it as he would ever get.

Knight shrugged, feigning indifference to the news, but King knew it was an act. The Korean Casanova was an adrenaline junkie, eager for his next fix, and whether it was at a nightclub full of supermodels or in the thick of battle, he lived for the thrill of beating the odds.

Even Rook seemed to greet Deep Blue’s statement with his own brand of enthusiasm. “More work? In this economy, what could be better than that?”

King returned his attention to Deep Blue. “Am I missing something here?”

Although he could not see the man’s eyes, King got the impression that he was being scrutinized from across the electronic ether. After a moment, the silhouette shifted slightly and the auto-tuned voice said, “General Keasling, would you give us the room for a moment?”

An irritated scowl flickered across Keasling’s face, but he smartly executed an about-face and strode through the door. Deep Blue waited a full ten seconds after his departure before speaking again. “Is there a problem, King?”

King took a deep breath. “I…don’t think I’m the right man for this job.”

There was a low roar of protest from the others, though Queen’s voice was distinct above the others. “Bullshit.”

“You’re wondering how I can call this a win,” Deep Blue said, as if reading King’s mind. “You feel responsible for their deaths; for Daniel Parker and Sasha Therion.”