The Meeting

Sorry about the boldness. Dang thing didn't convert correctly. Still, I hope you like it!

Jessica Warren walked briskly through the bustling streets of Chicago with a briefcase at hand. She was late for work, as usual. She was sure Tom was going to fire her. And if he didn't, he had no sense. The only reason she was still working at Wesley Enterprises still, was because she was a "booty call" for their C.E.O, Richard Mere. Of course, she was the only woman in the building who was subject to such vulgar activities. Her long dark hair and her deep, blue eyes was sure to catch the eye of any young man who happened to stumble past her. But her most remarkable feature was her face.

Her face was like that of an elf's in fairy tales. It was absolutely perfect; her nose was the right length and shape, and her lips had just the right curve. Her thin eyebrows were furrowed in frustration as she paused at the end of the street. She whistled loudly and a yellow cab squeeled to a stop in front of her. Jessica smoothed her skirt and slowly slid into the cab. As she shut the door, she noticed the driver smiling in the rearview mirror, obviously staring at something.

Jessica followed his gaze and looked down. Her white, long sleeved shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down, so you could see her C-sized chest partially covered by a pink bra.

"Ugh.." she breathed as she buttoned the shirt back up.

"Don't mind me, lady, just enjoyin' the view..." said the driver, smiling again.

"Despicable! Don't you have any respect towards women?" chided Jessica, scowling.

The driver opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, so he clamped it shut. As soon as the driver stopped, Jessica paid the driver, and quickly got out. She speed-walked into the H.Q. of Wesley Enterprises.

When Jessica got to her office, she sat in her chair and checked her computer. It was horrendously slow, so she decided to look around at the mess on her desk.

An envelope layed on top of her number sheets, her name signed with Richard's handwriting. Slowly, she picked it up and opened it. Her hand found the piece of paper that was inside and pulled it out. Sighing once, she read it:

 

Die, you w***e!! WE'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO JACK!!!

Around the time she read the message, Jessica was choking back tears. A noise repeated near the kitchen. It was a sort of scraping noise against the wall, and it was getting closer. A man dressed in all black appeared in her peripheral vision. He was wearing a gray ski mask, so she couldn't tell if he was smiling or laughing to himself. The intruder stopped right in front of her, his hot breath reaching her face in steady bursts. When at last he spoke, she was sobbing.

"Hello, Jess. 'Member me?" said the figure, his voice rough and scratchy, with no hint of an accent.

"W-what do you want?" choked Jessica, her soft musical voice shaking.

"I want...you..." replied the man, making it seem obvious. In one quick motion, he was behind her with the knife to her neck. She didn't struggle. Jessica knew if she did, this man could accidently cut her throat.

"Jason?" she breathed, shocked.

"Yes," answered Jason. Then he pressed the knife down even harder. She could feel small trickles of blood going down her chest and soaking through her shirt. At that moment, she screamed, and about two things happened at once. First, a noise from behind told Jessica that her and Jason were not alone. Second, Jason had relenquished his grip and was now on the ground.

Seargeant Jefferson was not a big man. He was only about five-foot seven, but that didn't seem to matter in this situation. The heavily trained soldier was about one hundred and eighty pounds muscle and twenty pounds fat, which meant that most contenders who met him were bound to get hurt, or worse. Of course, this was a mission, so he was wearing his full uniform; a black vest with a camo suit underneath and a black helmet. His camo pants went down to his calf muslce and was tucked inside black boots. Strapped to his back was an E65 Laser Rifle that looked like a shotgun.

At this moment, he was pinning down Jason with his knee. He held a knife to his throat and pushed slightly.

"You're under arrest for attempted murder!" yelled Jefferson. His rough, commanding voice intimidated Jason, and he just nodded once. The Seargeant looked back at Jessica to make sure she was okay.

"Are you alright?" asked the Seargeant, still trying to hold Jason down. Jessica stared into his velvet green eyes and finallly nodded after a moment or two. She took two deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

In then out,

Seargeant Jefferson now moved forward toward Jessica while delivering orders to his men.

"Jessica?" he said, now right in front of her. She flashed open her eyes and peered at his face more closely, taking in his features. He had a freshly shaven beard and thin lips that were now stretched in a frown. Also, she noticed that he was lightly tanned and he was serious most of the time. Her savior now had his helmet off, in a gesture of politeness.

His hair was a short, messy buzzcut, and she inferred that it was light brown. Overall, he was pretty good looking, and now she was not frozen in fear, but in slight admiration. He was now shaking her gently, repeating her name over and over.

"Jess, are you okay?" he asked softly, seeming genuinely worried.

"I'm fine..." lied Jessica. She was still trying to take in the situation.

"Good," he said, strapping his helmet back on.

"Let's move out! Jessica, you're going to have to come with us."

He grabbed her by the shoulder and calmly led her to the caravan. Outside, it was sunny and the sky was clear blue. The wind blew softly to the west and made the trees sway, as if dancing to a slow song. They were in the middle of a wheat field, the golden grass brushing against them as they past.

The caravan was two transportation systems; a black hovering hummer with a hull at the rear, and an old-fashioned white helicopter. As soon as they were in sight, both machines started up, and over the roar of it all, the sergeant spoke.

"You and I will ride in the 'copter," he said loudly, "the rest of my men will hop in the H-12!"

He lifted his hand and waved for them to move on. Before long, Jessica and Jefferson were off the ground, heading eastward. Jessica looked out her window and saw the H-12 zoom below them, dirt flying behind it. It seemed that they were keeping a steady pace with the helicopter.

"You've had a long day," said Jefferson, looking out his window as well. Then he turned to her.

"You should sleep."

"I don't need to," lied Jessica, now feeling the effects of the day. She looked at him. He didn't seem too convinced.

"Really, I'm fine..." she lied again. Minutes later, though, she was deep asleep, letting her mind drift away from reality for a few hours.

When she opened her eyes, she realized that it had gotten darker. She looked out the window. Nightfall now surrounded the helicopter. She turned to make sure the sergeant was still awake.

He was.

Dark circles formed under his eyes. As for the eyes themselves, they were red and blotchy from lack of sleep. He looked like he was about to drop any second.

"We’re almost there…" muttered Jefferson groggily, rubbing his eyes. A metallic voice echoed through the helicopter.

"We have arrived at our destination, Dallas, Texas."

Dallas? Why were we in Dallas? Jessica turned to Jefferson, a puzzled look on her face.

"Headquarters for the Army," answered Jefferson. His eyes were closed. Something was wrong, Jessica thought. Something was about to-

She couldn’t finish the thought as an alert sounded through the copter.

"We have to land!" announced the pilot loudly, "NOW!"

Jessica spun around to look out her window. She gasped. A red plasma missile followed by their side easily, inching closer and closer. She guessed that they had about two minutes before they were roasted alive in mid-air.

"Oh no," mouthed Jefferson when Jessica craned her neck toward him. Suddenly, every light and noise inside the helicopter shut off. The helicopter hovered for a few seconds, giving Jessica enough time to look back out her window. The red projectile was gone, and in its place was red smoke. Then the helicopter lurched downward, and then spun wildly out of control. The ground was rushing up to meet them as the machine continued spinning faster and faster.

I’m going to die, thought Jessica, I’m going to die. I’m going to-

BOOM! They had crashed on the ground and slid to a stop. Or so they thought.

Jefferson, nearly unconscious, was the only one to see a figure in a long, brown coat literally catch the falling helicopter. Or, at least, he thought he did. Groaning loudly, he finally let darkness take him.

The figure that caught the helicopter grunted slightly. He didn’t think it’d be this heavy. After taking in and breathing out a few short breaths, he lowered the helicopter gently to the ground. His orange eyes searched the cabin for survivors. There were two, he guessed. They were suffering from multiple cuts and bruises. Nothing he thought could be fatal, but it couldn’t hurt to check anyways.

He smashed the window closest to the girl. He grabbed her by the arm, then proceeded to drape that arm over his neck. Herotix held her gently by the head and legs. After getting her in a comfortable enough position, he backed away from the helicopter about a hundred feet and placed her on the hot, sandy surface of Texas.

The rescuer was about to check her pulse when her eyes slowly opened. Deep, blue eyes looked up at her savior.

"Hello," said Herotix in his rough, melodic voice. Jessica was mesmerized. She had never seen someone so beautiful. Thin eyebrows, strong jaw, clear skin, which was somewhat tanned. And his eyes were so unique. A bright orange, she noted with small pleasure. His breath was warm, a little too warm, but it smelled like cherries. She breathed in the scent deeply as he spoke yet again.

"Are you okay?" he inquired softly, a look of concern shadowing his face. When she finally was able to speak, her voice was extremely hoarse.

"Y-Yes.." she stammered.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes…" she repeated, slowly getting up. But she stumbled forward and he caught her by the arms.

"Maybe you should sit down for a while…" he suggested, then he continued, "I’m going to see if your friend in there is alright as well."

As Herotix helped the Sergeant out, the H-12 was speeding into view. When Herotix laid him down next to Jessica, he rose slowly with his hands raised. Soldiers were already aiming their rifles as they arrived. One by one, privates climbed out. Twelve of them, to be exact, circled Herotix.

A medium height, higher ranking Private broke through the circle to stand face-to-face with the alien.

"Who are you?" he demanded, shouting unnecessarily.

"Herotix," answered the other soldier, his hands still raised. He waited for an answer, but the Private gave no reply.  

she told herself. More USWA soldiers entered the room, all of them wearing white helmets.

Herotix lowered his hands, and looked at the head Private with innocent looking eyes.

"Look, just get them two into gurneys and into a medical wing." The head private seemed to consider it for a moment, then he nodded.

"Alright, get them two to a hospital ASAP!" barked the leader, then he tilted his head toward the alien.

"Arrest him also. We need to bring him in for questioning."

After loading Jessica and the Sergeant into the H-12, they managed to fit Herotix in with them, strapping cuffs to his wrists and legs. The captive glanced at Jessica, who continued to stare at him appraisingly. Amused, Herotix smiled at her with his pearly teeth. She seemed to blush, and he tilted his head slightly sideways.

Interesting, thought Herotix, this human seems to have some affection for me. He looked to his right, where Jason was strapped in the same way as he was. Jason looked at him, then at Jessica.

"Looks like you got what you deserved," shot Jessica angrily. Jason smiled.

"Oh, wait until I get unchained from here. Then you will get what you deserve." Herotix, really puzzled at this point, squinted at Jessica, then he looked back at Jason.

"So what happened?" he asked. Jason was the first to answer.

"I put a knife to her throat." He gestured toward the wound on Jessica’s neck with his head.

"Really?" said Herotix mockingly. He raised an eyebrow and then glared at Jason. Scared, Jason flinched backward. Jessica grinned at Jason evilly.

"Seems to me you have yet another new found enemy, Jason." As soon as Jason resumed his position, Herotix head-butted him in the forehead. Hard.

"D****t!" bellowed Jason. The blow forced him backward, nailing him to the seat sideways. A large cut formed on the base of his forehead and streams of blood were flowing to the leather beneath him. Jessica glanced from him to Herotix. The hero didn’t even have a bruise from the blow. In fact, he didn’t have any marks to show what had just transpired. Then, after calming down somewhat, Herotix inquired the woman in front of him.

"What’s your name?" he asked warmly. Jessica flushed, then replied, "Jessica…"

"Jessica," he repeated in his beautiful voice. "Strong name, Jessica."

Jessica now had control of her emotions and said, "Please, call me Jess."

"Alright then, Jess." He beamed a mesmerizing crooked smile and leaned in closer, so his face was just an inch away from hers. She could smell that sweet, cheery scent radiating from his body.

Then, on impulse, she said, "You smell nice…"

He looked a little perplexed. Then he laughed softly as beautiful as ever.

"Do I now?" he asked, then he added, "What do I smell like?"

"Cherries," answered Jessica automatically. He laughed again.

"What are you?" asked Jessica. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, finding the best way to explain himself. Before he could, however, they felt the vehicle stop and he rear doors opened. They wheeled Jefferson out first, who was still unconscious. Right after they grabbed the still groaning Jason, and after they wheeled out Jessica, two soldiers grabbed Herotix by the shoulders, roughly pulling him out. Then they proceeded to walk through the base toward headquarters. The soldiers walked beside him, faces hard and serious.

It was a rather hot day outside. The blazing sun burned at bodies who were caught in its rays. If there were any outside. The only activity Herotix could see was inside the building, through the windows.

It was your average military building; it had a barb-wired fence, and sentries posted in each corner, on the roof and ground. The windows were barred. Now, Herotix thought as he got closer, it looks more like your average prison.

As they got inside, two more soldiers rushed to meet them, adding on to Herotix’s security.

Not that I need it…thought Herotix.

Now Herotix was being led into an interrogation room, where a Captain stood, waiting patiently. As soon as Herotix was seated, the four soldiers left him to meet the gaze of Captain Boen.

Boen's piercing brown eyes usually wrought fear into almost every criminal who saw them. This one didn't have any fear. Strange. Even Boen's towering and musculine figure didn't phase him at all.

It's probably the damn hair,thought Boen, who was now taking a seat. His dirty blond hair was brushed back in a fancy way, and it shined like a diamond reflecting the light.

"Probably the suit too," he thought out loud. He was wearing an expensive black suit with a red tie. Stars on his shoulders and stripes on his sleeves represented his rank. The fancy shoes and black pants came with the package as well, giving him the look of a Senator rather than a soldier. Boen heard a small chuckle come from the captive in front of him. His thin lips formed a frown and he glowered. The perpetrator was still smiling. Anger crossed his face, and he spoke in a thick Autstrailian accent.

"Stop!" he seethed, clenching his teeth.

"Or what?" shot the criminal, still grinning. Boen blinked. He had never been goaded before. Most prisoners were smart enough not to do that. Now he's going to have to learn not to be on his bad side. The hard way.

Boen quickly got up and hurriedly got to Herotix's side. He then grabbed him back the back of the neck and squeezed. Hard. Herotix didn't even wince, but Boen failed to notice.

"Now, you listen to me," whispered Boen angrily, "You're going to tell me why you're here in Texas and what you were doing with those victims of the crash."

"I am?" asked Herotix sarcastically.

"Tell me everything, criminal! Tell me...NOW!!" The Captain was flushing with absolute anger, impulsively making him sqeeze Herotix's neck even harder.

"Fine," said Herotix flatly. Boen reluctantly released his grip on the malefactor. He briskly walked back to his seat and sat there, eyeing Herotix cautiously.

"Now, let's start with your birth place. Where were you born?"

Herotix shifted in his seat slightly, and rested his cuffed hands on the silvery metal table in front of him. In a narrative tone, he said, "My name is Herotix. I was born in Devus, Rexon, in the year 2150 A.D. My father, Liux, was a soldier in the World Army. I was twelve when he was mysteriously murdered one night in my own home. Of course, like most kids, I was at a friend's house. When I heard about the news, I ran away to my Uncle, Zeto, who humbly welcomed me into his home. My mother had gone crazy and was sentenced to be sent away to a mental institution. After thirteen years under Zeto's watch, I went into training with the Rogue League. We were trained to move silently and become deadly in the shadows. I became second in command fourteen years ago, and by that time, half of us were wiped out. Unknowingly, Zeto had become a dictator, ravaged by the need for power and control. Only six of us survived his deadly onslaught to supress any known resistence. We all spread out to different parts of the universe to conceal ourselves. I came here, but I don't know where any body else is..."

His voice trailed off, and he lowered his head.

"Well," said Boen, a little shock heard in his voice, "We shall see if your allibi is correct. For now, I want you to see some people you might want to meet under more proper circumstances." Boen rose, bowed a little, and turned to walk out the door. Then he stopped, and craned his head toward Herotix.

"You'll be okay..." Then he left, leaving Herotix to his thoughts.

I have to help these people. They have no idea what they're in for...

After a few minutes, two important people walked into the room. One female and one male. Sergeant Jefferson looked like he was hit with a Louisville Slugger one too many times. His forehead and cheeks were matted with cuts and bruises, making him almost unrecognizable. Jessica, on the other hand, had a cut on her forhead, which was now bandaged. The Sergeant was wearing his uniform and everything with it except his helmet. The girl, however, was dressed in a normal person's attire; a black t-shirt with blue jeans and Nike's. Her hair was in a ponytail, and strands of it concealed both sides of her face. She smiled warmly at Herotix.

"Hi," she said casually.

"Hello," replied Herotix, still frowning. He nodded toward the sergeant.

"Jefferson..." The soldier raised his hand.

"Please, call me Scott."

"So what's going on here?" asked Jessica, exchanging looks with both men.

"I have no idea," answered Herotix, a look of confusion on his face. "I have a feeling there's something else going on. Do you guys have any idea why you were attacked. At all?"

Scott stiffened and he looked solemn.

"I don't know. That red EMP came out of nowhere. We have no idea who could've possibly pulled it off so close to headquarters..." Herotix rose, and both Jessica and Scott looked stunned. He was slightly shorter than they gave him credit for, but he was also pretty muscular and toned. The reason why they were taken aback was his expression. It showed fear. He whispered three words that would change them all. Three words that only Herotix could muster.

"Zeto...is coming..."

 

Dear Jessica,

My informants tell me you've been late for work five weeks in a row. I'm sorry, but I have no choice. I have to fire you. My sincerest apologies to you, and I hope you do well some place else. You need to pack your office and leave by noon today.

Thank you,

Richard Mere, C.E.O

Jess read through it again, then looked at the clock on her wall. It was 11:30 in the morning. Crumpling up the letter, she sighed.

It's about time they fired me,

"Finally..." she muttered, grabbing her mouse and scrolling through her email. Most of it was junk mail from various companies wanting to hire her. She deleted those. One email, however, captured her interest. Leaning closer to the screen, she opened the message and read it:

Dear Ms. Warren,

Your country needs you. With your knowledge of numbers and cryptology, we need you to break a certain alien code. We are led to believe that it is a warning or sign of war on Earth. Against all countries...

We need your help, Ms. Warren, and you will be paid greatly. We need an answer by ten A.M. tommorrow.

Thank You,

Seargeant Jefferson-USWA

The newly unemployed Cryptologist stared at the screen, frozen. Her hand was stiff on the mouse, and she had stopped breathing. Quickly, though, she came to her senses and replied back:

Dear Seargeant Jefferson,

I realize that you possibly need my help, but if you have any substantial evidence that the Earth needs my help, I hereby refuse.

Thank you,

Jessica Warren

Satisfied, Jessica shut off her computer, and stood up.

"Better get started..." she muttered, picking up a box off the floor. Throughout most of the day, she routinely took small breaks from packing, and by three o'clock, she was out the building, and into the merciless rain of downtown Chicago. The gray clouds above slowly turned black as she traveled by taxi to her home in the country.

When she finally entered her house, she gasped. Everything, from inaminate objects to papers was strewn across the house. A lamp with no shade was broken on her table, and a message was written, possibly in blood, across her black walls:

thought Jessica, looking up at the ceiling. Her computer beeped and whirred, then made a final clicking sound. It was done loading.

 Chapter One-The Meeting 

4 years earlier...

Author's Note

Ignore the bold.