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Revealed: Chapter 1

Internal Affairs

"Guilty." With the slam of a cheap plastic gavel, my military career of 15 years was over. Even though NATO was all but gone, the few remaining high ranking officials found time to court martial me, basically turn me into a scapegoat for all that happened since the true culprit, Dr. Ruse was dead. After several days inside the remains of the Mars facility, British forces got in and extracted all of the survivors, which was lower than expected. Of the 1,300 personnel that maintained the facility, 259 left alive. The rest were either killed by radiation, if they were near the surface, the prison riot that left 18 levels devastated or the packs of werewolves, the brain children of Dr. Ruse, which continue to stalk the halls. As soon as the NATO remnants learned that I was alive, they whisked me away from Mars and brought me back to Earth.

Crane was doing better at least. Apparently his existence was kept secret by the late doctor and Admiral Cornway and he was still on Mars under British 'protection.' When they saw us in the facility, they nearly shot us if it weren't for the other survivors that vouched for us. We were given cells and treated normally, we weren't prisoners, we could move about freely as long as we didn't leave the base they had us at, but while the other survivors left a few days after arriving, we were there for a month. At the end of that month, a few people in standard NATO uniforms came with papers and took me and slapped me with some ridiculous charges. Dereliction of duty, disobeying orders, suspected terrorism and other bogus charges that were probably meant for Dr. Ruse. Despite how bogus they were, they still managed to find me guilty.

I looked over at my lawyer, if he even deserved to be called one. He had barely defended me, only doing the bare minimum required of him, I couldn't get anything better, my bank account was frozen even though I clearly pointed out it I had a right to use my own money to hire a lawyer to defend me. No, I was stuck with a government provided balding lawyer in a cheap suit who was packing his files up too eagerly. I had watched how he scooted his chair as far away from me as possible during the entire case, he sweated constantly and whenever he saw me watching him, he would get shaky. Why couldn't they provide someone who was confident in themselves, not this nervous wreck who acted as if a dog mauled him in his childhood? I would definitely file an appeal for a retrial when this was over.

The lawyer got up and quickly fled the area, stumbling at the large metal doors which he pushed against even though there were pull handles and a clearly visible 'pull' posted above the handle. None of the audience paid him any mind though. They were really what was left of NATO, a few generals, a single admiral and some politicians, all looking at me. Though there was a man who stood out. He didn't wear the same military attire that the rest of them did, he had an expensive charcoal vested suit with a solid green tie. He kept a small sly smile on at all times, it never faltered once. The entire case, he sat amongst the small crowd of grumpy old men, one leg crossed over the other with his hands resting on his knee. It made me wonder who he was, this case wasn't public by any means, officially I didn't exist, killed in action aboard the HMS Eurasia along with Crane. How he learned about the case and most of all, got in was beyond me.

"God damn military." I muttered as I slouched into the uncomfortable plastic chair. The entire room was made up of hard plastic and metal, not a single hint of wood or anything organic other than the people in sight. I picked at a small piece of plastic on the edge of the table with my claw, it was something to do to pass the time. I would be here for another few hours until a sentence was given, which I would appeal immediately. No matter how screwed up things were at the moment, the military was my life, I had no other. Thinking about it made me feel depressed, what life did I, as a dog, have in the military? Then again, what life did I have outside the military? Would they even let me out in the public or would they just stuff me into another facility? I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, no definite future in sight. "Fuck me." I rolled my head back and my ears drooped down to match my tail that had hung limply the entire time.

"Not a good day to be you, now is it." The voice got me to jump up a bit and look at the source. It was that man in the suit. He had walked over from the peanut gallery and was now moving to sit down in the chair my lawyer had just left. He moved with an air of absolute confidence as if nothing in the world could touch him. He didn't slouch, holding his shoulders and head high where he could look down on anyone. I knew the type, many high military types held themselves that way. Admiral Cornway was like that except that he physically couldn't at some point due to his age, but this man looked young, younger than me in fact.

"No it isn't." I stopped slouching on my chair and instead slouched over the table, bringing my paws up to rub my temples. Everything was giving me a headache at the moment and it wouldn't take much for this man to get himself onto that very long list. I would give him the benefit of the doubt, I was interested to hear what he had to say. There was something about him that almost seemed familiar in fact, like I had seen him somewhere a long time ago.

"Don't worry, my friend." He sat down and crossed one leg over the other like he was some kind of royalty. "Nothing lasts forever and this will be over soon enough." He said it with such confidence I almost believed him. He would be a great public speaker, the masses were suckers for people who acted like they knew everything.

I drummed my fingers against the table, not looking at him. I was willing to listen to him, but since he came to me, he would have to deal with my foul mood. "Why do you say that? So, far I've been the epicenter of one disaster after another with no sign that the aftershocks are going to stop anytime soon."

Unfazed by my pessimism, he leaned on one elbow and looked at me, with that damn smile of his. "Well, that's no way to think." He chuckled. "You need to keep a positive outlook or nothing good will happen."

"How clichéd." I muttered under my breath.

He heard and leaned in closer. I could feel his breath against the side of my face and was about to move away until he spoke. "Yes, clichéd." He said quietly. "But true in this case. I'm willing to help you if you help me." He leaned back and waited for my response.

I was interested. I was in the market for help and my ears perked a bit. "How so?" I finally sat up right and looked at the man. "How can you help and how am I supposed to help you, I don't have anything to give you."

His smile widened a bit, but not much. "Do you know who I am?" He asked lacing his fingers together.

His face was familiar. He had a strong jaw, but that was common. He had blue eyes and a roman nose with the blonde hair to go with it, not as common, but hardly something that would make him rememberable and yet I felt like I was missing something. I gave up, he was probably going to tell me anyways. "No, I don't." I shrugged.

His mouth opened a bit in disbelief and he put a hand over his heart. "My, you hurt me." He smiled again obviously joking. "I am Francis Hawthorne." That last name. "Son of Billy Hawthorne President of J&H." He pronounced it with such pride and dignity, not caring that it got a few stares from the few people left in the room.

I was stunned. No matter why he looked so familiar, he was J&H's poster boy. Smart, handsome and extremely business savvy. One day he would probably run the company and I had to admit, from what I knew of him, the company would continue to prosper as it had for nearly a century. The Jostens and Hawthornes were the richest families in the solar system and now an heir to all that power was here speaking to me and willing to help.

"You look a bit speechless there Mr. Anderson." I realized that my mouth was hanging open and I was just staring at him. I quickly recomposed myself, sitting up straight and cursing at myself for being so impolite.

"S... Sorry." I stammered, trying to smooth out some rough patches of fur on my arms. I had neglected my grooming for the past month, not caring about public appearance since I had convinced myself that I would never be in public again.

He put a hand on my shoulder, that smile was no longer that 'damn smile.' "No worries, I didn't expect someone who was just found guilty for a rather long and extreme list of charges to be in good spirit."

I smiled back at him. I knew that a smile from a dog looked bizarre, a few attempts in a mirror confirmed that, but I couldn't help it. My limp tail had a new life to it, it nearly hit him as it rapidly drew a blurred brown arc behind me. Here was my chance to get out of this rut and do something with myself. I hoped that I wouldn't blow it.

"See, not so pessimistic anymore." He patted my back a few times. "Now onto business now that I'm sure I have your attention." His eyes quickly gave my tail that threatened to take flight a quick look before returning to me. "I need your help, my family needs your help." For once his smile faded and his face grew serious. "If you help, getting your out of this situation is only the beginning of what I could do." His hand left my shoulder and went to his lap.

I grew a bit concerned, here was one of the most powerful people alive and he was nearly begging for my help. "Why are you doing this? How is this so important?" I asked cautiously.

He looked around the now empty court room. He looked at each corner and the cameras in them looked back. He frowned. "Not here." He said and got up. "Let's go somewhere more private shall we." He kept his eyes on the cameras the entire time.

A quick walk was all it took to get to the bathroom. I felt a bit awkward walking into the bathroom with him. The bathroom stank... a lot. Maybe not to him, but ever since I got away from Mars, I noticed that many of my senses were more sensitive. I smelt everything, the disinfectant that did nothing but mix and mingle with the smells of the bodily fluids of the hundreds of people who used the room before us. It was all I could do to not vomit.

"Dr. Ruse wasn't some mistake." He said bluntly, standing in front of me with his arms crossed. "Nothing that happened recently was a mistake, everything was planned out down to the letter." I didn't understand.

"How is that possible?" I asked. "He was running from your company, the... the Eurasia, Crane, me, the nukes." I was flustered and confused.

"Dr. Ruse believed that he was acting on his own accord, but he was being manipulated the entire time." He went over to the bathroom mirror and began to pick at his suit, carefully picking off dust and hairs.

"Manipulated by who?" I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to my right leg. Anything about that damned doctor immediately had my attention. He was dead and I didn't regret killing him one bit. The madman deserved to die for all he did. If someone was behind it all, then they needed to be stopped.

"By the Jostens of course." He said it as if it was common sense. "My family and the Jostens haven't seen eye to eye recently. They aren't exactly the most humane of people. The company has done things, thing's I don't nor do my family agree with." He said guiltily, he stopped his cleaning and was looking at my reflection through the mirror. "Now that Dr. Ruse, their puppet is dead, they will have no choice but to take drastic measures and I need your help to stop them."

"Why me?" I put my paw in my chest. "Why is it always fucking me?" I whimpered looking down. I thought this man would somehow wave a magic wand and all my problems away, but that was just extremely wishful thinking.

"You are more personally involved than anyone alive. You hate what has happened to yourself and what Dr. Ruse has done. Don't deny it, I've read your files. If Josten succeeds in doing whatever they are planning, they will do far worse than Dr. Ruse." I couldn't let that happen. I had too much invested to let Dr. Ruse win while he was in the grave.

"If I help you..." I looked up at him. "Can you ensure nothing like this will ever happen again?"

He walked over to me and held a hand up. "I would rather see the entire company burned to the ground and myself thrown into a poor house than see the Josten family win." That smile returned.

I looked at the hand and took it in my own and gave it one firm shake.

"Now what?" I questioned.

He walked over to the door. "Now we get those charges dropped and then we go give your friend Crane a visit."

"How, I've already been found guilty and Crane is still on Mars with the Brit... How did you know about Crane?"

He looked back me with an odd face. "Have you forgotten who you are talking to? I'm Francis Hawthorne." He puffed out his chest and walked out.

I rolled my eyes and followed.