Marching Orders

[42]

He rode up on a motorcycle and parked it in the visitors parking. It was from the base so he didn't give a fuck what happened to it after he was done with it. He was surprised that they'd let him use it to ferry his own ass across the city to reach the facility. He took the tooth pick from his mouth and looked up at the building. With a roll of his eyes, he put the tooth pick back between his lips, gnawing on it as he opened the packs on the bike to get his ruck sack out.

Tate traveled light. He always did. Commendations on his record indicate that he could find resources wherever he was dropped even if it was the desert. He was resourceful. He liked to blow shit up. He had a classified number of official kills on an equally classified roster of jobs that he'd been handling for the last year. Now he was here. He hefted the ruck-sack over his shoulder and thumped the lid closed. A gloved fist thunked the top of it and off he went.

Fatigues were gods gift. Comfortable. Camouflage. Easy to move in. Easy to wash. His boots were standard issue but he'd had them for six months so they were well broken in. They shined too. His boots were perfectly shined. His fatigues were meticulously cared for as well. He was a man who saw each detail and left nothing to chance. His dog tags clanked slightly as he walked but that was the only real sound from him.

A gloved hand caught the door and jerked it open so he could step into the lobby. Time to see where these new marching orders took him.

[Agent Redmen]

The hum of distant voices was nearly the only thing one would hear, upon first entering the facility. Numerous people, at this time, were quite stirred up and lit with chatter about the doctor's obvious outrage that no one seemed safe from. By then, each of them had indeed received the mass-email, and - while some of them weren't quite certain what to make of it - all of them knew, united as they were, that Freidrich wasn't happy.

Yet, there in the middle, sat a brunette woman in her mid-thirties or so; hair pulled up into a bun, with just a few stray straggling strands falling into her line of vision as she watched straight ahead at a monitor. The occasional clack of keys, and the adjoining murmur of direction into the mic that was situated from the earpiece she wore. She looked the part of a typical secretary, though her purpose was much more deeper; she was thorough when it came to relaying message.. and you could best believe that, as soon as the doors were jerked open, emerald eyes flashed up before she switched frequencies with a tap of a key.

"Dr. Antmann, sir, he's arrived."

There was no reply for a long moment, though her eyes remained on the Marine. Only once she heard back did she proceed with a faint, but noticeable, smile.

"Good afternoon. You're Daniels, I presume? If you'll wait for just another moment, one of our's will be out to speak with you."

It all seemed so very scripted, though, didn't it? As if she were programmed to be as such; though, then again, there were types who were just very good at doing their jobs-- she fit into that niche quite well.

[42]

He glanced around once when he first passed through the doors and that was all he needed. He caught where the camera's were and imagined where the hidden camera's were. He saw the layout and the general population of people. He also noted that there was an energy that didn't seem just right. It didn't stop him from stepping forward because he had orders and he was the sort to complete his orders.

Or get new ones.

When greeted, he gave a nod of his head to acknowledge that he was indeed Tate Daniels. He maneuvered the tooth pick from one corner of his mouth to the other and then said, "Ma'am." It was a polite greeting and very generic and appropriate for greeting a civilian. He kept the ruck-sack over his shoulder, fingers hooked through the loops as if he could hold it that way for hours. Well, he could. At the mention that someone would be out to speak with him, he gave a second nod and went into a more restful stance although the marine was anything but at ease or at rest. Just ask the tooth pick.

[42]

This was continued in live chat:

06/25/2013 .. The Facility .. Induction of Tate Daniels into 'The Program'