Nate: Lost & Found

Nate stepped out of the shower and walked barefoot to his locker, one towel wrapped around his waist. The squad had been running drills all week, culminating in a simulated close quarter battle in the bombed out gym which still stood on the grounds of Tartarus. A new gymnasium had taken its place, but the bare bones of the building were left standing providing the perfect mock battlefield.

He’d just pulled on his black tee-shirt, which clung to his damp skin, when one of the younger hounds - pups they called them - rounded the corner.

“Top wants to see you, ASAP,” the pup squeaked, and Nate grunted in response, quickly dressing the rest of the way. He knew better than to ask questions, it was unlikely the kid would have any answers, and it really didn’t matter. Top says jump, you jump. He’ll let you know if it’s not high enough. At least he’d had the chance to shower and clean up after the drill,

On the jog over to the Brass offices, he went over the CQB in his head. The squid, to the best of his knowledge, performed well enough for top marks. It couldn’t be about that. He inwardly grumbled, wondering which one of his team fucked up, and how bad he was going to get chewed out for it.

Giving two short raps on the door, he waited until he heard “enter” before walking into the office and standing at attention, his eyes caged 8 inches above the Top’s head.

“At ease, at ease,” the officer said, and Nate ‘relaxed’ into a parade rest. Hellhounds, though not officially part of the military, were run with a very similar structure and set of rules that were drilled into the boys early on. “We believe we have word regarding Vas.”

Nate dropped his eyes to match the Tops’, just for the briefest of seconds, the news taking him off guard. “Dead?” He asked, keeping his tone even.

The older man shook his head. “Very much alive,” he corrected, pointing to a large screen on an adjacent wall. Using a small remote, he opened a digital folder containing recent pictures of Vas.

“Is he at… a night club?” Nate asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Intel says it’s a rave. The location is in the Sprawl section of Arkangel, but we don’t have much more than that to go on.” The Top, a man in his early forties whose badge read “Grady” replied.

“What would he be doing at a rave,” Nate asked, the look of disgust clearly displayed on his face.

“We were hoping you could shed some light on that. Since his retraining after the Erinyes incident, has he shown any signs of dissidence?” Grady asked.

“No sir,” Nate replied, confident in his answer. “Nothing, if anything, he took the job too seriously.

“So no reason that you know of to defect?” Grady pressed.

“No, Sir. He was prepped for the exercise, and then we just… lost contact.” Nate explained apologetically. “Body cam, com link, everything cut out at once.”

Grady nodded. “Suit up. This is his last known location. Check it out, see what you can find, call for backup if need be. One way or another, he’s returning to base.”

A small knot formed in the pit of Nate’s stomach. There had to be an explanation. Grady was just being generous enough for him to find out what it is. “Yes, Sir,” The hound said. “I’ll make sure of it.”