Lucifer's Angel

Mine and Monaco’s boots echoed in one, identical cadence of left, right, left, as we walked down the hall. I had a habit of making sure I was in step with anyone who walked near me. It was something that several people had picked up on from their basic training. All of us had to know how to march with perfection, and if you were on the North American drill team, like I was, you were expected to be better than that. Staying in step was not so much a habit, I guess, at least, not anymore. After so long of being on the drill team: if I got out of step with someone near me, I would lose my temper.

My jacket, of course, was back on, but I hadn’t bothered to button it up. I personally did not care if King Lincoln himself ordered me to button it up. I would flat out tell him to turn the air conditioning back on. They were lucky I had the jacket on in the first place. If there was any kind of formal meeting, according to code, the jacket was supposed to be worn and buttoned up, no exceptions. Judging by how hot it was in the halls alone, I could guarantee that the meeting room would be twice as bad; depending on what the meeting was actually about. I was starting to think Monaco was right, and that would mean all windows in the room would be sealed and so would the door.

If you wore the uniform jacket in a room like that with this kind of heat, you were either a suck up or stupid.

”Lafayette,” Monaco spoke bluntly as we walked.

”Yes,” I asked.

”What’s on your mind,” he questioned. I was a bit taken back, surprised he’d noticed the questioning look on my face that had lingered since he’d first let me know about the meeting.

”How was the Fuhrer able to get all the guardians together so… quickly?”

”His Excellency called for the meeting about a week ago. Command General Ulrich got here not long ago.”

”And Lieutenant Colonel Michaels felt no need to tell me about it,” I spat bitterly. Honestly, I should not have been as surprised as I was, considering I was always the last to know about things.

”He felt it best not to get your mind worked up and wondering,” my superior replied flatly. I crossed my arms and looked off to the side, glaring at the passing wall, windows and grey doors. My blood boiled slightly at the Lieutenant Colonel’s reasoning. His decision not to tell me may have seemed generous, but it was in fact, not. It only brought up the never ending resentment in me. The power I had, the power that everyone called a gift, I called a curse, and I was burdened with it for the rest of my life.

The kind of power I possessed –superhuman mentality- had multiple attributes, due to it being linked to knowledge. My abilities could be expanded upon and extended to telepathy, mind control, telekinesis, control over memories, and further. I failed to see how my power was a gift. I had been able to hear people’s thoughts since I was a child, and then people wondered why I preferred solitude. No, the Lieutenant Colonel’s decision had not at all been as generous as he’d thought. It only proved that my power left me at the end, at the bottom… I always had to be the last to know, because I knew everything…

At the end of the hall where the guardians’ meeting room was, one of the seven Command Generals stood there at attention, waiting for us. The seven Command Generals were the top dogs, right under the Fuhrer. They were as up there as the up-there’s could get. These seven Generals were each in charge of a different continent and their orders came directly from Fuhrer Lincoln himself. Those seven men were the best the united military had to offer and everyone knew who they were.

As a recruit, those who joined the military were also taught how to spot out a Command General from a distance. If you were low in the food chain and had the honor of being in the presence of a Command General, you’d be better off practically dropping to your knees and bowing rather than saying something and making a fool out of yourself. If you’re that low and in the presence of a General, trust me, there was no way you’d be able to speak from both fear, and maybe excitement. The Generals scared the life out of even the toughest of drill instructors.

As Monaco and I reached the door, I smiled a bit, seeing that it was none other than Command General Alexander Armstrong, leader of the one and only continent we treaded, North America. General Armstrong was probably one of the most laid back Generals out of the seven. He was the least intimidating as well, unless you made him mad. If that happened, you could try to turn and run for the hills away from him, but you wouldn’t get very far, considering he’d probably make you float so you can’t run away… depending on how angry you made him, he could just as easily crush you too…

”Good afternoon, General Armstrong,” I greeted with a smile. He returned the greeting.

”Hello, Lafayette, Monaco,” he replied with a smile as Major Monaco and I walked into the room. Once on the other side of the threshold, I instantly spotted my commanding officer standing near the closed window. Like I’d guessed, the room was sealed off tight at the windows and the maroon colored curtains had been pulled, not only making it hotter than all get out, but dark as well.

Lieutenant Colonel Michaels stood straight as a pole, unmoving, with his uniform jacket on, buttoned up to the top and his arms crossed. I looked over at Monaco and the two of us couldn't help but crack a smile as we made our way over to him. I knew well, Chief Roy, as the team liked to call him most of the time, was dying to take the jacket off. If he were not so formal or such a… oh, I don’t even have a word for it anymore, the Chief probably would’ve been well on his way to looking something like a stripper by now, thanks to the conditions of the room. That was something that I hoped I’d never have to see.

Those who were close to the Chief, like Monaco, myself and the rest of the team knew that he was no where near as up tight as he seemed. Lieutenant Colonel Roy Michaels was anything but uptight. To everyone else though, he was a prude and one of the –as General Armstrong liked to call him- biggest suck ups in the entire military. To be called that was honestly a compliment, because it was always meant in the best ways. If you were called that, it meant that you obviously cared about what you were doing. Now, there’s another saying that General Armstrong uses… this nickname, if you could call it that, on the other hand was not at all a compliment.

To be called the other nickname by General Armstrong meant you annoyed him almost as much as-

”I’m here!” Oh, great. Speak of the devil.