Roman

(c) R Wood 2002

5

The sunlight had gradually shifted to red tint, making the jungle around the pyramid glow like packed embers. Around its base, the shadows had stretched out like a blanket and Carson felt the same stiffness that he had felt while within the structure pressing against his chest. He never thought it was possible to feel claustrophobia while outside, but this trip had brought a lot of new experiences.

"Sarge," Larue's voice came across the mike. "You better get over here."

The soldier's voice shook him out of the daze the heat had put him in and he walked around the perimeter towards where the man was stationed. While it might have been quicker to go through the pyramid, it felt safer outside in the open air.

"On my way," he answered, picking up his pace as he heard the sound of a commotion starting. The good thing, he told himself, was that there hadn't been any shooting yet. When he came around the side of the structure and over one of the low moss-covered walls, he saw that the survey team was packing equipment away through the jungle. Roman was outside talking with Larue and Fost while the others stared on. As the Sergeant trotted up, he felt the inside of his armor sticking to his legs and regretted that he hadn 't stripped it off like the smarter half of his men.

"What in hell are they going?" Carson demanded when he was close enough to speak, feeling the strain of the heat weighing down his temper. The three men turned towards him and he saw the line of people in company coveralls vanishing into the trees.

"WHERE IN HELL IS YOUR TEAM GOING?"

Roman seemed so nonplussed about the Sergeant's tone of voice, that Carson wondered what had shone through in his tone. He felt indignant, a little irritated, and a bit worried.

"Relax, Sergeant," the operative said. "The non-essential members of the survey team are simply taking samples back."

"Only four of you assholes are 'essential'?" Larue asked and then turned to the Sergeant. "That's all that's left Carson!"

On a good day, Carson could barely tolerate insubordination, especially from someone like Larue but today was a little different. It could wait because he was focused on the real problem and stared at Roman. Even though the man' s face was friendly, the eyes were cold and seemed to be mocking him.

"You'll forgive me if I say your lying," Carson said as he glanced in at the remaining members of the survey team.

"Of course."

"What is really going on here?" he asked with a harsher tone. The Sergeant could feel his ire creeping into his voice, but the growing fear that something wasn't right was pushing down any reservations.

"I've already told you more than I should," Roman answered, still not volunteering anything. "You shouldn't waste effort on paranoia."

"Bullshit," Carson snapped. The urge to pull his rifle and shoot off one of the operative's legs had returned, but he decided to give him one more chance. "I may not be an operative, but I'm not stupid."

"I know that," Roman said, still keeping a friendly demeanor. "But I haven't lied to you. You're here to do a job and protect this team."

"From whom?" Carson pressed. "Who are we here to protect you from?"

"From whomever," Roman said as he turned and walked back towards the pyramid. Carson followed him and in his anger, spun the man around by his arm.

"Dark Night? Thresher? WHO?" Carson growled. His voice had gradually gotten louder with a mix of anger and fear. "If it's Thresher, we aren't equipped for that kind of-."

One of the survey team appeared in front of them and cut him off in mid sentence.

"John! You need to see this!" the woman chirped happily. Roman nodded and turned back to the Sergeant, shrugging his arm free.

"Sergeant, you are here to defend this facility and the survey team. That's all."

Roman turned on his heel to follow the woman, but stopped when Carson called out to him.

"The facility and the team," Carson repeated. "Not you?"

"Don't worry about me, Sergeant," he said as he resumed walking. "Just do your job."

Roman's voice faded into echoes as he walked into the pyramid and Carson waved his men back to their posts. If this place were so damn important, they wouldn't have sent just a bunch of grunts to guard it. He had lived long enough to know the difference between instinct and paranoia and any time the company acts secretive, it isn't paranoia. The sounds of the jungle were a dull roar as he paced to look out and then back up at the pyramid again.

Testing the weight of his rifle, he decided to be patient for the time being. If this Mister hotshot operative wasn't forthcoming soon, he'd just have to start asking questions in his own way.

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