The Menagerie 2 (Eden) Read Free Page A

Bainbridge, one of several ships stationed above the submerged vessel, and landed on a helipad at the ship’s stern.
    Beneath the heavy wash of the rotors, John and Alyssa left the chopper and ducked unnecessarily beneath the blades until they were clear. Once done, the chopper lifted and banked to the east.
    “Welcome to the Bainbridge ,” said O’Connell, stepping onto the helipad. He was wearing a pristine white shirt and matching pants with impeccably sharp creases. The only contrasts to the ethereal whiteness of his clothes were the tones of his olive skin and amber-tinted sunglasses. “It’s been a long day, I’m sure,” he added. “But we tried to get you here as quick as possible. I hope the flights weren’t too much of a burden?”
    “Not really,” said Savage. “Didn’t care too much for the two ops you sent along, though.”
    O’Connell turned to Savage, a spangle of the day’s light reflected off the lens of his glasses. “And you’d be John Savage,” he said evenly.
    “I would be, yes.”
    “I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand.
    Savage took it.
    “Those two ops, as you call them, were a necessity.”
    “To what? We signed the nondisclosures. We know the consequences of illegal divulgences. It wasn’t necessary.”
    “Mr. Savage, you worked black ops, so you know that something of this magnitude is always necessary. Things haven’t changed since you were a soldier working for a wetwork team. If you took insult, then please accept my apology. But from the moment you signed that nondisclosure form, your life, and Ms. Moore’s, became the property of the United States government.”
    “And once this is over?”
     “Then you will be free to do whatever it is that you do, Mr. Savage, at the AIAA without being under the auspices of your government. But—if this is what you are alluding to—the nondisclosure remains intact. What you two are about to see can never leave this ship. And as you have already stated, Mr. Savage, you know the consequences of illegal divulgences.” O’Connell hesitated a moment before speaking. “But we’re getting off on the wrong foot, aren’t we? Be assured, Mr. Savage, that you and Ms. Moore have nothing to worry about should you follow the rules of the agreement. They’ll be no disruptions or blackmails in your future to keep you compliant. And we won’t be sending operatives to act as scarecrows to keep you in line. Once this is over, then it’s over. And being a black ops man yourself, I know that you understand the sanctity of maintaining national security.”
    Savage agreed and understood. He was once a Tier-One Level operative for the U.S. military. He also understood that being in such a position was also a precarious one. People sometimes disappeared, regardless if they had kept to the agreement at hand.
    “As one former soldier to another,” said O’Connell, “you are well respected in the ranks and have served your country well in the past. There is no concern amongst the Tier Ones’ ruling over this operation. You and Ms. Moore have earned their trust. I want you both to believe that.”
    To a degree Savage did—from one soldier to another, a warrior’s loyalty. But there was also the learned experience to know that loyalty was not always above honor—and that one man’s honor could easily be compromised. “From one soldier to another,” he finally said.
    “Good. Even though you’re no longer under the auspices of the U.S. government, we still see you as one of us: Once a brother, always a brother.” O’Connell looked skyward, took note of the descending sun, at the reddening of the sky along the horizon, and removed his sunglasses. “Are you hungry?” he asked them.
    Savage turned to Alyssa, who nodded in the negative.
    “We’ve already eaten,” he returned. “But thank you.”
    “We just want to get to work,” said Alyssa.
    “Tomorrow,” O’Connell answered. “Tomorrow we head down to a