Dulce Truths

Aaron was a good candidate for their traitor, that much was clear. Mark’s mind shot back to that moment in the Dulce port when Aaron had told him of Johnny’s death, Andy’s freak-out, and Turn rushing back into the base. Mark had wanted to go back, for he’d never left two men behind before and he hadn’t been about to start. But then Aaron had grabbed him by the arm, looked into his eyes, and told him in no uncertain terms that yes, the men were in fact dead. And you will be too if we don’t get out of here, we all will be, Aaron had said.

Now Mark knew it was all a lie, that Aaron was in fact a traitor to their cause and probably not the only one. Well, he liked to think that was the case. The truth of the matter was that he just didn’t know.

With a sigh Mark shakes the thoughts away. Speculation would do him little good at the moment, the same as yelling or banging on the door. He’d tried both soon after being put in the room — yelling was easiest, moving the chair over to the door to bang on it took a little more work — but both efforts proved equally futile. So Mark sat, and waited, and worried. Not a minute after doing so and their were footfalls outside the door, then the knob was turning. The door opens, and Carl appears.

“Mark,” he says matter-of-factly as he comes in, alone and with no base guards with him.

“Carl,” Mark replies, using that same cold and emotionless tone. Carl comes in and heads for the desk, taking the chair and then leaning back to put his hands behind his head. He sits there a moment, staring at Mark. Then he speaks.

“Why’d you do it, Mark? Why’d you kill Ellis?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “You and I both know that never happened.”

“Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?” Carl asks with a laugh.

“Easier,” Mark says with a sneer.

Carl chuckles, then starts shaking his head. “You are stubborn, aren’t you? Just as stubborn as your father was.”

“The truth of his death will come out.”

“What… that a jealous son finally got his old hatreds out by offing the old man?” Carl scoffs. “Your prints are on the gun and my men are heading-up the investigation. It’s an open and shut case.”

“You killed him,” Mark says, looking straight in Carl’s eyes. “You killed him and you covered it up… but like all cover-ups, there’s someone who knows, something you didn’t think of.”

Carl cocks his head to one side, as if acceding the point. “You’re right on the first part, or at least you were right.” Mark’s eyes narrow in confusion, and Carl can see the first hint that the man’s confidence is beginning to falter. “Don’t believe me?” he continues, and walks over to the desk and retrieves a small rectangular control of some sort. He points it at the wall, clicks a button on it, and a panel on the wall begins to slide away to reveal a large TV-like monitor. “Don’t take my word for it,” Carl says as he pushes another button and a video begins to play, one showing General Anderholt and Aaron, “take a look with your own eyes.”

12 — Allies

Blue Lake

Friday, May 25, 1979

8:50 AM

Jake bursts into the rec room and comes to a stop, his hands on his hips. He’s breathing hard, for he’s just run down several of the Blue Lake hallways to get here. The rec room was in a different area of the base than the officer’s quarters were, and the latter had been the place that Jake had seen Mark at when he’d been taken away. He knew he had to do something about that, even if ‘doing’ only meant telling someone.

“Whoa there,” a voice calls out to him as he stands there, “where’s the fire, eh?”

Jake turns his head and sees Bobbie sitting over at a card table on the side of the room, a few of the regular base guards with him. By the looks of it they’re in the middle of a game of poker or something, chips piled up in front of them… though most seem to be centered in front of Bobbie.

Without a word, Jake nods and starts that way. Besides the four at the card table, the room is empty… of people, that is. There’s an old pool table in the center of the room, a pinball machine on one side. A ping pong table takes up another good portion, and then it’s just some old couches and chairs in front of a TV that looks to be from the 50s. Jake doesn’t register any of it as he heads to the table.

“Listen, I gotta find Donlon,” he says as he reaches it. His words are for everyone, but mostly directed at Bobbie.

Bobbie’s face screws up. “Why Donlon?” He scoffs. “Hell, that guy’s about as dry an’ borin’ as they come!” That elicits a few chuckles and nods from some of the base guards.

“Knows his stuff too, and doesn’t let his mouth get in the way of him doin’ a good job.” Jake casts a narrow-eyed look Bobbie’s way as he says that, raises an eyebrow to accentuate his words. Bobbie just smirks and dismisses the comment with a wave of his hand.

“Alright, fine, have it you’re way… last I saw Donlon was in the debriefing, same as you.”