Prologue

The veil of night covered the cold desert in a blanket of darkness. Thin pillars of metal rose up from the ground, their tops capped off with a dim light that illuminated the railroad beneath them. Their light brushed upon the shadows of a group of people clad in black. A radio began to crackle quietly.

One of the shadowy figures raised an arm as they listened intently. Then with a wave of their hand, they gave the group a signal and the shadows pulled back until the night wiped away any sign of them. In the distance, two balls of light pierced the darkness, their glow getting brighter and brighter with each passing second. 

The shadows ran along the train tracks, racing towards the lake that laid ahead. The shadows split and went up to each of the legs of the bridge that hung over the quiet lake. Off in the distance, the sound of metal wheels rolling along steel tracks was growing louder with each second. 

A soft beep rang out and the shadows withdrew. They hid behind the cover of darkness and watched as the train approached the bridge. As the locomotive crossed the start of the structure, a soft but firm voice spoke.

“Now,” the feminine voice commanded.

A small beep rang out. Then explosions rocked the silent desert as the pylons were destroyed. The train, unable to stop in time, fell into the lake below it as the weight of the locomotive collapsed the deck. Gravity pushed the rest of the train down until half of it was submerged in the water. 

The shadows cheered as the one who gave the order stood. The woman stepped closer to the tracks, the light touching her face as she smiled.

“No time to waste,” she said to the group behind her. “Let’s go.”

---

Miles away, Jacob Steelsworth was sitting back in his faux leather seat as he stared at his holoscreen. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were constantly on the move. His lips were pressed together into a thin line. 

“No, you idiot!” Jacob bursted, a small vein pulsing in his neck. “Confess to him! You have him right there!”

He began pulling at his hair as he watched his screen. Then he gave a defeated sigh and sat back up. 

“Stupid show,” he muttered. He closed the site on his screen and reopened his emails. “At least there’s a few more episodes before the finale.”

As he reached for a cup of water on his desk, a bright flashing caught his eye. His work phone was asking for his attention. 

“Odd time,” he frowned. He picked up the receiver and slotted it in his ear. With a tap, he unmuted the device. “Director of Transportation, Jacob Steelsworth here.”

“Director,” the voice of his secretary said. “You’re needed in the control room.”

“Now? What for?”

“We have a code red situation.”

Steelsworth’s expression hardened at those words. 

“I’m on my way,” he said before cutting the line. 

Getting up from his seat, he took his cap and put on the jacket that signified his position. He marched through his door and down the hall to the control room. Some people stopped to give him greetings which he returned quickly, but most could read the words written on his face. When he arrived at the control room, a technician greeted him.

“What’s the code red situation?” the Director asked. 

“The bridge over Lake Havok was destroyed. Bandits most likely. A gang is also a possibility,” the technician responded. “A train fell into the lake partially because of the destroyed bridge.”

“That’s a code yellow at best,” Steelsworth frowned as he went over to the monitors to watch the situation. 

“Normally, yes, sir. But this was transport number 281.”

Director Steelsworth’s back straightened immediately. He spun around and stared the technician right in the eye, the technician flinching at the sudden contact.

“Are you certain?” Steelsworth growled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Get me a line to the General,” the Director ordered. When he saw the technician hesitate, he roared at him. “Now!”

The little technician scurried away while Steelsworth turned back to watch the holoscreens. People clad in black clothing were moving up and down the train and pillaging whatever they found within them. However, the Director’s eyes weren’t watching them. He scanned the carts connected to the train, searching for one particular one. When he couldn’t find it on land, he looked to the water and saw in the murkiness a faint blue that stood out from the white of the other train carts. 

“Director, I have the General,” the technician said. 

Steelsworth snatched the phone from the man and put it up to his ear. He took a small breath before speaking.

“General, this is the Director of Transportation. We have a code red situation,” he said.

“I know that, Director,” the General’s rumbling voice replied. “Why is it a code red?”

“The cargo that was enroute to the City was intercepted. The train it was on is half submerged in the waters of Lake Havok right now.”

“Well, is the cargo in any danger, Director?”

“It’s in the water. The interceptors don’t seem to be after it. Should I follow protocol and send units to apprehend them?”

“Watch the situation. Tell me, do you think it was just a coincidence that this transport in particular was attacked?” the General asked.

“Possibly, sir.”

“I don’t think so. Look at the interceptors. What are they doing right now, Director?”

Steelsworth refocused on the screens before him. The shadows were becoming less and less active. They gathered together in a group and looked to be communicating with one another. One slim figure in particular seemed like the one in charge.

“What are they, Director?” the General repeated.

“Sorry, sir. They’ve stopped their pillaging and are currently gathered together,” Steelsworth narrated. He stared at them with furrowed brows. “They appear to be breaking apart again.”

“Retreating?”

“No. They took something out of case.” When Steelsworth saw the outline of the object, his jaw tightened. “I believe it’s a dive suit. Three of them.”

“They intend to go into the waters,” the General noted. “Prepared for the radioactivity. You know what means, don't you Director?”

Steeslworth knew. This was a targeted attack. It wasn't a pleasant conclusion. The contents of that transport were supposed to be of the highest degree of classification. Even Steelsworth didn't know what exactly was on that transport. The only reason he knew that something of utmost importance was on it in the first place was because it was his job to monitor that particular train.

“What are your orders, sir?” the Director asked.

“Initiate the failsafe.”

Steelsworth blinked. 

“But sir, wouldn’t that damage the cargo?”

“Do as I command, Director,” the General replied coolly. “Or would you rather have criminals hold possession of the cargo?”

“Understood, sir. Is there anything else?”

“Send a team to scan the area afterwards. Arrest whoever you can. That is all. Have a good evening, Director.”

“You as well, sir.”

The line went dead in Steelsworth’s ear and he gave the phone back to the technician that was fidgeting in the corner. He stood up, straightened his posture, and went to the center of the control room.

“Blow it up,” he ordered, his voice booming in the spacious room. The chatter that laid in the air died as all of the people inside turned to look at the Director. He glared at them. “You heard me. Initiate the self destruct sequence.”

“But sir, it might kill the bandits around the train,” the head technician spoke up.

“Not our concern. They’re criminals. Do as I say.”

“Understood, sir.”

The head technician tapped away at a keyboard, the simulated sounds of clicking that came out from the holographic keys filling the room. Then with a resounding beep, a countdown initiated. A large red five flashed before ticking down with every second.

Steelsworth stared at the holoscreen broadcasting the train as the countdown hit zero. There was a small delay before the screen became a blinding white. When it cleared, the wreckage of the train laid in the desert sand. Scraps of metal were embedded in the ground as gray smoke, barely visible against the black sky, rose into the air. The waters of the lake were rippling from the explosion within it. 

‘The cargo’s been dealt with. The radioactive waters should deal with anything else and render it useless,’ he thought. Then he sighed. ‘I get the feeling that our budget’s about to be slashed.’