November
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
48,047
Reviews:
341
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
48,047
Reviews:
341
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
November 14
November 14: Monday
The entire Centre was on high alarm. Every peer group was in lockdown, no visitors were allowed in or out, check-ins were required every 45 minutes, and the number of chaperones around the campus had been doubled. The halls were filled with angry officials; high ranking officers paced every corridor and cranny, and Awni was dragged in front of every tribunal and court of law that could be put together in 24 hours. A carrier had never been lost, not once, since the beginning of the program; every man who'd ever been registered was in some way accounted for, and there were a lot of people very invested in making sure it stayed that way.
It only took half an hour for them to figure out that four people were missing from base and the Centre; within an hour, two of those had been accounted for. The only two still gone were Carrier Havar Granger and Officer Brian Inderson. There were conferences immediately; Brian and Havar's faces went up on every comp screen, every projector, and in every hallway in a fifty-mile radius; images, descriptions, and summaries of both were sent out to national command centers from the Southern territories to the Hinterland Corridor. Beneath Havar's picture was a reward for his safe return; beneath Brian's were the words Dead or Alive.
~:~
Brian had been prepared for them to treat it as a kidnapping, but he wasn't prepared for how quickly things would go. He and Havar had headed south first, intending to cross the mountain range before heading for the coast. From there, they'd take a boat into the Caribbean, then go west, and buy passage through the canal to the west. From there, they could reach Baja, and from there, find passage to India. Traveling by land, Brian had told him, would be an impossibility. There would be posters out for them, and warrants, and the dire likelihood that someone might turn them in. He was right, it turned out, but his timetables were just a little bit off. There were twenty task forces out the very next day, and by the end of the week, he anticipated that carrier safety activists would be calling for more.
All they had to do was make it to the Canal. In the State of the Canal, there would be no such trouble. And in India, he'd assured Havar, kindly pushing a curl behind his ear as they rode in the middle of the night down the backroads of the Shenandoah Valley, there would be no such laws at all. Havar would be free, and Brian would be fine. Havar had believed him, nodded his head and followed silently behind Brian's lead as they disappeared into the darkness.
The entire Centre was on high alarm. Every peer group was in lockdown, no visitors were allowed in or out, check-ins were required every 45 minutes, and the number of chaperones around the campus had been doubled. The halls were filled with angry officials; high ranking officers paced every corridor and cranny, and Awni was dragged in front of every tribunal and court of law that could be put together in 24 hours. A carrier had never been lost, not once, since the beginning of the program; every man who'd ever been registered was in some way accounted for, and there were a lot of people very invested in making sure it stayed that way.
It only took half an hour for them to figure out that four people were missing from base and the Centre; within an hour, two of those had been accounted for. The only two still gone were Carrier Havar Granger and Officer Brian Inderson. There were conferences immediately; Brian and Havar's faces went up on every comp screen, every projector, and in every hallway in a fifty-mile radius; images, descriptions, and summaries of both were sent out to national command centers from the Southern territories to the Hinterland Corridor. Beneath Havar's picture was a reward for his safe return; beneath Brian's were the words Dead or Alive.
~:~
Brian had been prepared for them to treat it as a kidnapping, but he wasn't prepared for how quickly things would go. He and Havar had headed south first, intending to cross the mountain range before heading for the coast. From there, they'd take a boat into the Caribbean, then go west, and buy passage through the canal to the west. From there, they could reach Baja, and from there, find passage to India. Traveling by land, Brian had told him, would be an impossibility. There would be posters out for them, and warrants, and the dire likelihood that someone might turn them in. He was right, it turned out, but his timetables were just a little bit off. There were twenty task forces out the very next day, and by the end of the week, he anticipated that carrier safety activists would be calling for more.
All they had to do was make it to the Canal. In the State of the Canal, there would be no such trouble. And in India, he'd assured Havar, kindly pushing a curl behind his ear as they rode in the middle of the night down the backroads of the Shenandoah Valley, there would be no such laws at all. Havar would be free, and Brian would be fine. Havar had believed him, nodded his head and followed silently behind Brian's lead as they disappeared into the darkness.