Surawordz Fiction

This is an excerpt from Cry of the Eagle soon to be out in publication.

One

            Steve twiddled a black knight chess piece in his hand until he felt the jagged edge of the broken left ear; an old injury from a lingering battle. He pressed his thumb into it, feeling the sharpness, he wondered if it would ever be rubbed smooth.

The knight was a dark marble with bands of gray and a streak of white running through its chiseled features. The sides of the horse’s head seemed unusually smooth today between his finger and thumb.

He did have a tendency to rub the cool surface like a worry stone. His eyes crinkled at the corners. His brother would laugh at him. The broken ear scratched his finger.

Steve was sitting in his new office. Everything rank and file, yet empty. In fact, when one entered, one might have thought that he had not yet moved in even though he had been in place for three weeks.

There was very little color to the décor. In the sand colored carpet opposite the door was the impression from the feet of the desk. Steve, on his own, had just moved his desk away from its original location. It disturbed him that he was sitting with his back to the airfield and the sky. He had put the desk on an angle in the corner by the window. Now, as he sat at his desk, he could look to his left out the long window with its colorless drapes and watch the S-4’s Starfighter’s and other aircraft take off and land.

Opposite the window was the door in the far corner from Steve. To the right of the door was a three-by-six silver plasma screen which still had a good view from his desk. Both screen and drapes had infrared controls embedded in the left side of the desktop.

On the wall immediately to Steve’s right were three framed certificates and a blue matted display of all his medals. On the far wall, between the window and the door was a large encased in glass American flag. A somewhat old flag that represented the country before The Six with its thirteen stripes and fifty stars.

Now with his desk, chairs, cabinets in their suitable places, Steve had put on his jacket and pulled out the chess piece from his right jacket pocket to think.

Steve closed his eyes. His mind focused onto an orderly chess board as he returned to a match half played. Chess reflected his choices in life: strict rules, clear lines, and strategy. All of it led him to his present destination; General Conrad, Commander of the Eagle Brigade, Homeland Defense’s military arm under direction of the president, the constitution, and himself.

Knight takes pawn, he thought.

A sharp knock rapped on his door as Captain McNamara bustled in. The knight retreated to its pocket to await being called forth again.

“Excuse the interruption, sir,” she said, her voice tense with the breaking of protocol. The change in the furniture in the room did not seem to throw her off from her task. Steve was not surprised. Even though she too was a part of Steve’s new command position, they clicked as a team. She was all military, right down to the impeccable uniform and the tight-bun of her brown hair. She reminded him of a character from an old army medical show; a clerk who could predict the commander’s thoughts. Steve still couldn’t recall the name of the show or the character.

“There has been a loss, sir.”

Steve was in motion toward the door. “Brief me.”

As he left the room, the captain fell in step.

Any thoughts? Email me at surawordz@yahoo.com. Subject: Chapter 1.