Article 3: Sorrow

Despite the inner turmoil I was feeling as a result of Harrison dying in my arms and the mixed emotions from the survivor of the wreck, I still had my survival instinct intact. At that moment, my instincts were telling me to run. And boy did I run.

After realizing the seriousness of the situation I had found myself in, my adrenaline quickly returned to me and the throbbing of my ankle subsided once more.

I ran with everything my body could take.

I don't know where I went, or which direction. All I know is that I eventually found a cabin in the middle of the woods.

At some point in my desperation, I had heard a helicopter flying in the direction of the crash. I don't know if it was the medical helicopter that I had asked for, or if it was a CIA helicopter, but I didn't care.

I was currently carrying a ticking time-bomb and I was anxious to get rid of it. The cabin was a perfect place to ditch it.

***

When I got inside the cabin, it was completely empty. It looked like it had been abandoned for a year or two since the dust was of such an extreme amount.

After I looked in the living room, I realized why the cabin had been left in such a state. Sitting in the chair by the window was a desiccated corpse of what looked like an old man. The old man must have died there and no one knew about it.

Despite the revelation, I had no time to contemplate on this. I had to find a place to hide the briefcase.

While I didn't particularly care about the man that came out of the satellite, I wasn't particularly keen on seeing what would happen if the people the satellite man talked about got the briefcase. Additionally, I didn't want to be on the run for my entire life, keeping this briefcase safe. In that case, I had to hide it.

The best place to hide the briefcase, I thought, was the fireplace. It was a place where you may find burnable material, like wood or paper, but no one would think that a metal briefcase would be there.

So, I opened the latch, to open the chimney and shoved the briefcase up there and closed the latch. I was certain that most people wouldn't find this hiding spot and it would also cause any scent to be somewhat obscured by the smoky smell of the burnt wood. But, as an extra precaution, before I put the case in, I had rubbed ashes all over it. This would obscure the scent even more, and thus make the hiding place all the more safe.

After that, I had to distance myself from the cabin. So, I backtracked for a while and eventually went a different direction, orthogonal to the path I was taking.

I walked for a few hours. I couldn't run anymore since my adrenaline wore off and my ankle was throbbing something fierce. I still had the grit to walk, despite my injuries, though.

Eventually, I saw houses. I had found a city!

Immediately, I called for a taxi service. Things like Uber were everywhere, and it made it convenient in a situation like this.

I had the driver pick me up and take me to the hospital, avoiding the spendy ambulance fee.

As I had never left my wallet in the car, and kept it on me, I still had my ID and insurance card on me, which allowed me to get checked in to the emergency room, where I now waited for a doctor to see me. In the meantime, the swelling and pain my ankle experienced directly increased with the passing of time. It was quite an interesting experience, if I say so.

After a number of minutes, the doctor called me back. I got to ride in a wheelchair and everything.

After all the tests were done. The doctor firmly told me that I had basically shattered my ankle.

The way he explained it to me was: it was like I took my ankle and put it in a blender then turned it on and let it run. It was a really bad injury, something that the doctor told me would never fully heal. Despite that, enough of the bone was intact that it would naturally close the gaps and work somewhat normally in the future. The only thing I needed was to get a cast and to not put pressure on it for a number of months.

***

Chuf chuf chuf chuf...

A few hours back, at the site where the satellite had crashed, a helicopter slowly landed in the gravel parking lot.

While Harold didn't know at the time, this helicopter was the one that had flown over him while he was running away.

On the side of this helicopter, there was a logo with an eagle's head and a white flag underneath it. It was the logo for the CIA.

Despite the CIA reacting so quickly, they weren't the first to arrive. The paramedics, police, and fire fighters had arrived before they did, signifying their excellent response time.

In reality, the crash had happened not too far from a residential area and the 911 call station had been flooded with calls after the crash. That being the case, they had to respond in a timely manner or the possibility for actual harm to come to the residents would increase. It was mainly due to the fire, but the call from Harold had alerted the police and the paramedics, causing them to also rush to the scene.

When the helicopter's blades stopped spinning, five men in black and white suits stepped out. It was obvious at first glance who they were.

"Hey, look, its the feds. You think this is like some government secret that accidentally went wrong?" said one of the police officers to his partner standing next to him.

"Maaaan, you been watching way too many of them conspiracy videos lately. At most it's a spy satellite, since it's the CIA coming not the FBI."

"But, like, this could be some big government conspiracy, y'know. What if it was being used to spy on the citizens, huh? Wouldn't that be breaking news?"

"Pshhh, as if. It's probably something stupid like a secret TV station satellite specifically used for government communication."

"Hmmm.... Buuuuut, what if...."

The two cops went back and forth like this for a while, one thinking it was a conspiracy and the other saying it was probably something simple.

The black suits that had just descended from the chopper, walked over to the people in charge of the scene and flashed their badges, before saying they were taking over the crash site.

***

"We'll be taking over this crash site now, thank you for your cooperation. Also, if you could set up a perimeter around the area so reporters don't get in, I'd appreciate it."

"Will do, sir. If you need anything else, do call."

The agent had just informed the police lieutenant that they would be responsible for the crash site.

While the fire fighters could still put out the fire, which was quickly being stamped out, the paramedics and police withdrew from the scene, since they had been ordered to by a higher level of authority.

After the first helicopter landed a few more followed and landed in the empty spaces created from the police cars and various vehicles leaving the area. With one coming a few hours after the others.

These helicopters carried a number of CIA teams; ones for site analysis, one for site management, and another that carried people who even the agents didn't fully know the identity of, just that they had the clearance to be in this team.

***

"What's the situation?"

The one who spoke was a tall agent, wearing the copy-pasted men-in-black outfit, minus the sunglasses. His name was Adam White, a special agent with the CIA. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was around 6'5" or roughly 196cm tall, dark-skinned, and a good looking man to compliment, with a high nose and sharp eyes.

"No survivors. The agent died shortly after impact. There's also a civilian casualty." As the analyst said this, he pointed to Harrison's body off to the side.

Adam only shook his head. "Keep me posted if you find anything else, especially if you find a silver briefcase."

"Will do, sir."

Adam belonged to the later team to arrive, the one filled with the people of unknown origin. While he may be unknown to the other agents, he wasn't unknown to the charred man laying near the wreckage. Adam was one of the agents involved in Project Re-Write, and the people he brought along with him were also people who worked on the project.

"White, did they find it yet?" The man who spoke with a harsh tone was named Damon Paxal. He was a rough looking blonde man that had a fiery temper, in contrast with the usual calm and collectedness of special agents. He had been impatiently waiting while the analysts dug through the wreckage to find the missing briefcase.

"They haven't found it yet, unfortunately. There's a lot to go through, so it may take some time. You should go find something to keep you busy."

"Tsk. Whatever... Hey, you don't think one of those first responders took it, right?"

"I don't think so, but there is the possibility that they may have, if we don't find it. That man wouldn't have dropped the case, even in freefall. If the briefcase doesn't come up in the search, we'll check whether or not one of them took it."

"Hehe, hope it doesn't come up, it'll be fun to rough up some beat cop."

"Haaaaaah, do you ever get tired of being so annoying?" The person who said this was a cold looking woman standing off to the side, holding a tablet tapping away on it. She was annoyed by Damon's remarks and put her two cents in the mix.

Her name was Hannah Davis, she was one of the project's analysts and had a hand in the failure that caused the satellite to crash. She felt it was her responsibility to rectify the situation. Despite her drive to redeem her failure, Damon's impudent remarks towards cops didn't sit right with her, since her dad had been a police officer, thus annoying her.

"Hah? What'd you say, you crazy bitch?"

At those words, Adam swore he saw a vein pop out of Hannah's forehead. Hannah was of average height, around 5'4" or 163cm, wavy black hair, pale white skin, and green eyes. She was quite the looker. Unlike Damon, who looked like your local wannabe gangster.

"What? Did your pea-sized brain not catch what I said? You annoying rodent."

"Haaaa????!!!!?" Damon looked ready to smack a bitch, but Adam quickly reached out and caught his arm.

"Heh," to which, Hannah smirked with a self-satisfied look, which only served to make Damon that much more furious.

"Quit fighting with one another. Focus on the mission at hand. We can't afford another failure in such a short period of time. Also, Damon, quit being so reckless in your remarks and actions; and Hannah, quit provoking people even if they annoy you." Adam was the leader of this group of agents and saw to it to reign in the trouble makers before they caused trouble.

"Tsk," Damon clicked his tongue as he shook off Adam's hand and walked away in a sulking manner.

After a few minutes, a look flashed across Hannah's face, "Adam, I think I have something, come take a look."

Adam quickly came over and peered over Hannah and looked down at the tablet she was holding, "What am I looking at exactly?"

"I didn't even show you it, be patient, geez... Here, listen," Hannah then clicked play on an audio file and began to play it for Adam.

The file was a call to the police, specifically, it was the call Harold had made. As soon as Hannah had arrived, she began searching through the 911 calls made in the area around the time of the crash. It didn't take long for her to find Harold's call, which prompted her to call for a further investigation.

"This call was made shortly after the crash happened. I think it is possible this person may have taken the case, given we haven't found it yet. It is more likely this than one of the first responders. What do you think?"

"..." Adam stayed silent for a short while, before answering, "Follow this lead, track this phone's movement. There is a high possibility he came into contact with that man. Since we didn't hear about, or see, a person taken away by the ambulances, it's safe to assume he is on foot, given that scrap metal over there was most likely his vehicle."

"Got it. It shouldn't take but a second... There! Wow, he really booked it. It says the phone is in Beaver Creek. I know it's been a few hours, but still. Whatever. He's in Beaver Creek, so, are we sending anyone to get him?"

"We don't know who he is, or what he knows. He hung up the phone call before giving any personal information. I think we need to treat it as a potentially dangerous situation if he's gotten ahold of the case. If he hasn't, that is the best case, but if he has, then it's the worst." After thinking about it for a second more, Adam commanded, "Send the team of agents that arrived before us to retrieve him."

Not questioning Adam's authority, the first team of agents to arrive reentered the helicopter and flew to the east, in the direction Harold had gone off in.

***

After the diagnosis from the doctor, I was given a temporary splint and was referred to a local orthopedic doctor to get a cast put on. I was also given a pair of crutches for the small fee of $20 plus tax.

I was feeling better, despite the chaotic situation I just escaped.

Thinking back on it, I didn't know how to feel. How would I break the news to Sarah? How could I live on knowing that my best friend was unfairly taken from this planet so early? While I could understand the feeling of despair these thoughts brought, I couldn't feel it as strongly as before. It was like I had become increasingly more numb to terrible situations through this.

I crutched to the side of the walkway after I exited the hospital and used my phone to call for an Uber to take me to the orthopedics'. However, I would be interrupted when a sound I had heard only a few hours ago, flew over my head.

The same helicopter I had seen while running away was flying overhead and landing on the roof of the hospital.

Despite the many strenuous and adrenaline pumping situations today, I still found myself being pumped full of adrenaline as my heart began to pound in my ears and my senses sharpened. However, there was nothing this would do, since I couldn't walk and the Uber would be here in around ten minutes. I was a sitting duck to say the least.

I might have been paranoid, but I had the right to be at this point, but I was trapped in this moment. If I tried to run, I wouldn't go far anyway, and might further injure myself. If I stayed put, I might have the chance for the Uber to arrive before my pursuers caught me, but that also ran the risk of them finding me before then.

In the end I was helpless and sat still, trying to calm down my racing heart and strained nerves. Minutes passed and nothing happened. A few cars drove past, a few people went in and went out of the hospital, with nothing odd occurring.

I felt like I had overreacted when I saw the helicopter land on the roof. I felt really stupid and like a crazy person thinking the world was out to get them. That was, until they actually got me.

"Sir, my name is Robert Rubb, I'm from the Federal Bureau of Investigation and would like to have a word with you, if that would be alright?"

My fears had come to light. Standing in front of me was a man who claimed to be from the FBI, wanting to question me about, who knows what.

"Um, what can I do for you officer?"

"We just have some questions we'd like to ask you. Would it be alright if we spoke inside?" He said this as he motioned inside the hospital, where I saw a few more well-dressed agents standing there.

My first thought was, 'I'm screwed.' I knew this wasn't going to end well, no matter which way you looked at it. But I couldn't just refuse them, since they would probably make up something to capture me. So, instead of going through the pain of that scenario, I decided to cooperate.

***

I was taken into the hospital and escorted to the elevator where I noticed they pressed the top floor.

Yep. Definitely screwed.

I waited for the inevitable, and, finally, the door dinged open after arriving on the top floor. We all walked out of the elevator, not saying a word.

Breaking the silence, one of the men behind me quickly shoved a bag over my head while another sprayed some gas into the mask. In moments, I felt my consciousness fade, and then that was it.

***

"White, they got him. They said he didn't have the case on him, but they're bringing him to the local black site for interrogation just to be safe. Should we go?" Hannah had received the news that the agents they sent had already captured the target. It was good news to hear, give the recent events. But, also, not so good news that the captive didn't have the case on him.

"You and Damon go, the rest of us will stay here and continue to search the area," Adam answered Hannah, to her dismay.

"What?! Why are you sending me with that gangster look-a-like?"

"Because you need to get along better for this team to work efficiently. Try and work out your differences during this time."

"Humph." Hannah could only pout and accepted the order.

Hannah and Damon climbed into the helicopter as sparks flew between the two. Soon after, the helicopter rose and headed in the direction of the black site to interrogate the unconscious Harold.