All meta instructors lived in the barracks with the cadets in all three sections. Male instructors resided with the male cadets and female instructors with the female cadets. It was all very orderly, regimented and disciplined. There were never any problems with impropriety because it was made very clear what would happen to rule breakers.
Forming a large rectangle around the outside of the buildings and courtyard was a road that doubled as a race track. At the southeast corner of the compound was a shooting range. The Retribution Arena was in the northeast corner. A pleasant stream cut across the northwest corner of the campus and sported two bridges that allowed the jogging trail to flow uninterrupted around the inside perimeter of the entire campus. The south west corner of the compound was designed around a meta-worthy obstacle course.
Commander Oldham stood looking out the window of his office in the Headquarters building, gazing at the majesty that was the Facility. This day was like any other on the compound, and that’s just the way Oldham liked it. He watched as two platoons ran in formation across the courtyard, no doubt heading toward more exemplary training. Even through the thick, plate-glass window he could hear them grunting a familiar cadence to keep their rhythm. He smiled approvingly; through to anyone else, Oldham’s smile looked like a pained grimace. His facial muscles weren’t meant to smile.
From the opposite side of the courtyard, a group of more seasoned cadets was carrying huge boxes of supplies into the side entrance of the hospital. A service truck lumbered into view and stopped by the Mess Hall with a squeal of breaks in need of attention. Immediately, meta soldiers were on hand to begin unloading the goods. Unquestioned synchronicity. That’s what made this place run like the Shangri-La it was.
Every meta was conditioned to be exactly who and what he told them to be and the Facility was run like a well-oiled machine. He ordered the senior ranking metas and they disciplined their underlings. There was a tremendous amount of synchronicity required when scheduling which platoon would be where and learning and doing what, with and for whom.
There were all the shipments of food and miscellaneous supplies to arrange. The hospital needed constant deliveries kept completely quiet. Then there was the concern about the acquisition of new metas. There were always “new-recruits” being brought in and the Director just expected them to be vigorously trained and “brought up to speed” on how things were done at the Facility. Then there were always the concerns about what the Director was going to want from him beyond his standard duties.
Oldham was completely against Dr. Williams’ tampering with how he handled his soldiers. The Young boys should have been disciplined immediately, with no mercy and in front of the entire meta campus so any other young gun with a miniature thought in his or her thick head would stop to smell the dead bodies before they decided to act on their own volition. Instead, Williams put both of those boys on undercover assignments where they were out among regular people.
To a man like Oldham, who respected only those who gave and obeyed orders, these two rotten apples were exactly the wrong kind of soldiers to trust. And though he had tried to express his concerns to his Director, he was immediately put in his place. All he could do is wait and hope that he was wrong about the Young boys. But in his gut, he knew it was just a matter of time and he was furious at the thought of what two rogue metas could do to his perfectly maintained world.
Oldham’s body was tight with anger as these thoughts coursed over him like fumes from rancid meat. Instinctively, he began to formulate a plot for self-preservation; a plot that would mean knocking some sense into Dr. Kenneth Williams.
That gruesome smile etched its way across his meaty face, again. Everything he had worked for to make this Facility the exemplary product it was depended on its leaders modeling the restraint and obedience they expected of their cadets. Anything less than model behavior from anyone in this Facility required immediate and uncompromising punishment. Commander Oldham returned to his desk and picked up his telephone. He had a few phone calls to make.
41 The Brothers Grim
“Mom?”
“Alik?”
“Oh, thank God, you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, but why are you calling? Is Meg okay?”
“She’s stable. We’re still flying over the Pacific.”
“Oh, thank God. I thought you were calling to tell me…”
“No, mom. Listen, I have to tell you something really important.”
“What’s going on?”
“You need to go into hiding, immediately.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom, Williams has a meta already on the island that was sent there to kill you.”
“How much time do I have?”
“None. Get out of the house now. Take the truck, drive and don’t stop until you’re sure no one has followed you.”
“What about Theo and Cole and Paulie?”
“They should disappear, too. She might use them to get to you.”