Chapter 12: New Power

"To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day…" Followed by a choir and the melodic tune of a soft-spoken flute handled by a gentle musician, the beginning of a song is clear and everyone is in on it. "Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say" The same choir ensued and the flute continued, the vocalist in this little orchestra is Josh, sitting in the back of the humvee while Tuka played the flute in the integrated trailer attached to the rear of the vehicle. "No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip"

From over the radio, the rest of the platoon sang along with reserved joy and smiles on their faces. "For the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip" One more time. "Big iron on his hip"

A euphoric howl then came from Josh as the song's first verse was sung, excited and filled with joy the young Corporal slapped his knee and laughed. The addictive laugh spread to the rest of the convoy and a series of laughter and whistling came through the radio. The Falmartian, Tuka, Lelei, Master Kato, and Rory all shared a smile, Tuka and Rory giggling to one another upon witnessing the otherworld's behavior, Lelei a small smirk, Kato sighing. "The joy of young people, you should do it more often too, Lelei." While they may not understand what the meaning of the lyrics is, what's important is that they're all having fun.

The platoon soon resumed their musical session, while Richard sat on the front next to driver Roomy, he sat with a smile while looking down at his small personal notebook. Written on the pages are the names, rank, and basic information of his new Platoon members. Being assigned to a platoon is no easy task, 19 men and women, 3 vehicles one being an upgraded variant of the M3 Bradley, he had split them up into two fireteams each consisting of 9 men. A member of the fireteam will be assigned as fireteam leader, and they answer to him, platoon leader Lieutenant First-Class Richard Vulcan, man what a time to be alive.

3 days after San Fransisco

Dark clouds filled the sky, the sound of thunder echoed in the distance as Terry walked down the sidewalk. He looked on down the road to make sure he does not bump into anyone and invite unnecessary trouble and continued. Moments later drops of water begin to strike his cap hat, and then his shoulders, soon after the rain came pouring down onto the street. He looked up at the neon signs of New York City, shining brightly in the night and through the heavy rainfall.

He pulled down his baseball cap and returned his focus onto the path. He can see the front of the bar he's supposed to go into, closing in the distance before stopping dead in his tracks to fully admire the bright shining sign on the storefront, it says Cheers And Beers. He pushed open the front door and the sound of the bell rang, stepping into the bar as an eruption of laughter filled the room. He stood still as the door closes behind him to scan the drinking floor, eight men, four on a table in a tight group and the ones that are roaring in laughter, two others in an isolated corner, while the other is sitting up at the bar and the last one is the bartender behind the counter.

Terry turned and began to take off his soaked coat and hung it up on the hanger beside the door. Below the hanger is a barrel, filled with umbrellas. He flicked his hands to get rid of the rainwater and turned back around then walking up to the bar. There he would take a seat one stool over to the man's right, he's hunched over and upon closer inspection appears to be asleep, probably knocked out from all of the drinks he had tonight.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he instinctively reached for his holstered pistol when a loud thud sounded near him, he turned to face the source of the noise only to be faced by the bartender. "Welcome lad is always nice to see a brand new face 'round 'ere." The bartender spoke with a noticeable Irish accent, looking at Terry with a friendly grin across his face. "So! Hwat 'cha havin? Whiskey, beer? None of that fancy wine though." After assessing the man Terry sees no danger and slowly took his hand away from the gun, and placed it on the table with his other hand. "Lookin' a bit chilled, I understand ye need somethin' to warm ye up, maybe something to calm yer nerves too? No need to be reachin' for guns in here."

A sharp eye this bartender has, Terry thinks nothing much of it though, dismissing his watchful eye to be nothing more to catch petty thieves or puckered out folks in his establishment. Terry lightened up the mood with a small chuckle and an accompanying smile, shrugging it off. "My apologies, it's been a rough day." Terry came out with a quickly written excuse on why he is so jumpy. "After San Francisco, the police have been on edge for quite a while, watched it on the news and it blew my rocks off. I have a daughter, you know? Have to protect the family and all." Terry didn't expect himself to go that far making an excuse though.

Ah right right I'm with cha, crazy world we're livin' in eh?" He said as he pushed himself off of the counter and turned around facing the wall of booze and approached the shelving. "One day yer livin' life, the next yer out looking over yer shoulder, best of luck to you on that front then lad." The bartender turned around to face Terry once again, about to speak when the group of four created a thunderous ruckus again that echoed throughout the establishment. "Urgh, loud laddies there, I tell ya. Anyway, I'll ask ye again, what 'cha havin'?"

"I'll have a shot of whiskey then, rain picked up quick." With a few quick motions by the bartender, moving his hands and fingers grabbing a small shot glass and the bottle of whiskey at the same time, then pouring the drink into the glass before taking it off and placed it on the counter in front of Terry. "Thanks" Terry thanked the Bartender with a smile, to which the bartender responded with a smile himself. Terry then rummaged his hand through his jeans' pockets and pulled out a small piece of folded paper, unfolding it behind the cover of the counter, he reads the written note, it saying: Cheers And Beers, ask for Anderson.

"Alright lad I see it in yer eyes, you have business here so spill it." The bartender suddenly and bluntly came forth with his revelation, leaning against the counter in front of Terry with his hands and arms supporting him up, a smirk on the man's face. "I won't bite, don't worry."

Terry looked up and faced the bartender, folding up the piece of paper and shoving it back into his pocket again before replying. "Well, I suppose the jig's up now. I'm here to meet with a man named Anderson, do you know him, sir?" Terry asked, with a lower voice so the other patrons of the drinking floor don't hear the conversation.

The bartender squinted his eyes and his smirk had disappeared once hearing Terry's intentions. He stood up straight and waved Terry over, before turning around and walking to the back of the bar towards a door. "Come 'round, follow me, lad." Terry got up from his stool and pushed past the gateway and into the bar, walking past the wall of bottles and drinks to catch up to the bartender that stood waiting for him in front of a door. The bartender's face now takes a darker mood, serious, sharp, and focused. "Now, don't say anything when we're going down to the basement, alright lad? You don't talk, you don't touch, and you don't go browsin, understand me?"

"I understand"

"Good, follow me." The bartender turned the knob and pulled the door open, stepping into the terminal where it heads to a stairway down. He stepped aside letting Terry in before closing the door and locking it before taking the key and pocketing it. They begin heading down the stairs, the room is well-lit with hanging overlights, and the stairs are made from sturdy reinforced wood. As they go down the sound of whirring fans begins to fill Terry's ears, and he sees another terminal with an open door to the side, spilling light out from inside of it. The bartender makes no mention of it and simply walks down past it, but Terry's curiosity got the better of him and as he passed he takes a moment to look inside, and he's met with a room filled with running overclocked graphics cards, hundreds of them and seemingly recent editions too. Terry moved on and not wanting to anger the bartender, caught up to the man.

The stairs finally ended with a door at the end of it, a metal door. The bartender without any talking pulled out his keychain and slid a different key into the keyhole, afterward grabbing the handle and pushing it forwards, inwards into the room. Dim lights spill out and as Terry follows suit into the room, he is met with what he can only describe as a kitchen bedroom. A full dining table and a kitchen in the corner, while the other side of the room is a bed, night dresser, and a footlocker. "Ay Andy, someone's here to talk." He shouted while closing the metal door.

Terry turned towards the bartender. "Wait so you just keep him locked in here in the basement?" Terry asks, more confused than horrified because while it is rather inhumane to just lock someone in the basement, he's more curious about why he is locked in the basement.

"You'll see lad" The bartender answered while walking past Terry, pulling out a chair at the dining table, and looked at Terry, waving him over. "Sit." Terry quickly walked over and sat down, the bartender then walked to the kitchen and leaned back against one of the countertops. The walls are made of concrete with a ventilation grate on the top corner above the bed, to the final corner is a small hallway leading to… nowhere, it's dark and Terry can't get a good look into it from this angle. "AY ANDY, SOMEONE'S HERE VISITIN' YA" The bartender yelled.

Soon after a different voice is heard, a deep, raspy yet brooding and elegant voice and tone yet the delivery is flat. "A visitor, Iat see, no need to yell Liam, I can hear you just fine." From the darkness emerges the man that holds this intriguing voice, combed back sleek orange hair with blue azure eyes. His hands hold the collars to a sharp grey suit, as the smell of poppies filled the room. "I'm sorry for being late to the call, but you don't need to yell." He addressed the bartender, whose name is Liam.

"Well, Anderson sir, this man here." Liam pointed his thumb and nodded his head towards Terry. "Wanted to talk to ya, the first time I didn't hear anythin' from ya. Wanna introduce yerself lad?" Liam asks Terry to introduce himself to Anderson, and Liam as well at the same time.

"Well, I'm Terry and I'm a corporal in the NYPD" Terry stood up from his seat and held out his hand as Anderson approached the dining table. "Pleasure to meet you, Anderson si-"

"Liar" Anderson retorted, and Terry's hand loosened in surprise. Liam gestures to Terry to sit down and he does so, while Anderson pulled the chair opposite to Terry and sat down. "You're not a member of the NYPD, you're an agent, and an investigative officer of an organization." Tension in the room increased, Liam straightened up and crossed his arms, while Terry leaned back on the chair with his hands on the table to show that he was not reaching for any weapons.

"You spoke to Liam earlier, you do not have a daughter, you did not watch the San Francisco blue explosion on the TV. You're the one that caused it, you were there."

"... I'm not sure what you're talking about, unfortunately."

"Don't try to fool me, Agent Terry. I know your past, I know you in the present, and I know your future. I already know your motives, I already know your goal, you do not wish to get out of this empty-handed or end up dead with a bullet in your skull but I respect your wish to choose diplomacy first and violence second."

Terry closed his eyes and sighed, nodding, an anomalous human. "I understand now. You're at least a blue reality bender."

Anderson confirms it with a nod. "Your Foundation classifies me and my abilities as such, yes."

Terry then turned his head towards Liam, who stood there with a rather unamused face. "You know this too, right Liam?" Terry questioned Liam, Terry's not sure if Liam knows about Anderson's ability or not but judging from the metal door and concrete basement he already figured as much, he just wants to make sure.

"Yeah lad, he's a god-send ain't he? Being able to look forward in time, and even back in time, even know everything in the universe, it's a miracle really and he helps me with my business and my cash. Ye don't think running a classic Irish pub is good enough to keep me in the green right, lad? You'll be fuckin' stupid if ye think that, I deal in crypto, all those graphics cards you saw are mining Etherium and DogeCoin, silly fuckin' names I tell ya but it brings me the money."

"Anderson tells me which and when fluctuates and fall, back in the first days he told me to cash in on coin, nowadays he helps me with Etherium, DogeCoin, Litecoin, whatever type of Crypto there is in the world that will bring me lots of money."

Terry only stared with squinted and skeptical eyes, it can't be that profitable back in the day all you can do with coin back then was dark and black-market dealings as well as black hat operations. "A bit of an exaggeration but yes, Liam here depends on my knowledge and abilities. In exchange, he gives me a safe place to call home. You may call it boring, but having this ability gives me quite the lovely time, watching every movie and tv show in existence and the future, reading books, watching Youtube, good days, good days indeed."

"But as much as you have fun in your head, you can't have them in reality, so you depend on Liam and other people to bring physical objects to you. I understand, you want something from me and you give me what I need.

Anderson cracked a smile and appears to be pleased, leaning back in the chair and clasped his hands together. "You catch on quickly, Agent Terry. Expected from someone with a master's degree in Psychology and a major degree in Business, unfortunate that you have joined the Foundation rather than starting your therapy firm, missed opportunity I will have to admit I see a better thing if you would've gone down that path." Terry's shoulders tensed up and a chill shot up his spine, such intricate knowledge of his early life just being thrown out into the air with no regard whatsoever.

"You talk too much" Terry hissed.