It had been an hour and quarter that the Director had gone into the tent. When he had returned out of the tent, it was night time. Exactly 20:22.
What had waited for him outside was as he intended.
Max—his nephew—and the two fine young adult girls that followed him. Max sat down on a chair. Luna leaned on a wall. And Alice idly walked back and forth at a slow pace.
Seeing the Director, Max was the first to react with an upright stance as his legs closed in on him; though not too close as he knew this moment was a hard one to handle.
"Uncle!" He said. His voice lengthens as if worried.
The Director lifted his hands. "Calm down," he said. He reassured.
Max looked at the state he was in. Although he couldn’t tell from a face he was projectin properly hiding the real one behind a mask, he assumed it was as bad as any goes. "How is he?" He asked.
The Director glanced at Max. "His," his lips wanting to speak, "His okay...."
"You sure?" Max asked.
"Yeah."
This feeling.....sadness left hurt in people's heart. Max could feel it too. The heavy burden. The weight too much to lift. Too much to hold.
The first time had met with Ben, the specialist of the organisation he was called, was in a training field. There, in the middle plain grass, he watched with an awestruck, awe-inspiring, and teeth clenched face. The rolls he did, the slides, the jumps, and the evasive maneuvers he did spark a tingle in Max's behind. They were close of age though he was older. He was also told that he trained like this ever since he was a young lad. For him to be trained like that, for a fine soldier, Max knew who was responsible: the Director. The only 0erson of high authority and abilities to make an order.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Max watched continously as he wired across obstacles and ran up to a ramp and leaped into the air for sometime until he inevitably stick the landing in a big splash in the nearby waterpool. This however was not his final move as Max glanced at the water surface that he didn't surface yet, instead he moved under the water as skillful as sea snake, and with time he was already at the end (appearing to land again) and he ran, breathing greatly ever so.
At the end of the track finishing off at about two minutes and twelve seconds was a new record beating about 10 seconds earlier than his other records that stay up there on the leader board. The soldiers and staff who stood by and watched the whole event unfolded applauded. It had two months of training and he had succeeded.
At lunch, at a tent area serving refreshments, Ben had a go on the food. He was done for the day. The other band of teams tried in the event. He could eat, drink, and relax.
You were good out there, Max would say. Ben turned around his mouth stuffed with a sandwich. Max laughed. Ben didn't know what to say, yet Max found it funny. My names Max, he said and extended his hand to Ben. Ben unwittingly and unknowingly took his hand, shook it, and soon found out who Max truly is with just small talk and light gestures they had a bonding going on.
Just as Max remembered that day the Director spoke.
"So," he smoothed out his throat, "I'm sure you have THINGS you want to talk about." The Director glanced at the bag which was on ground where Max left it (while he seated and waited for the Director).
Max glanced back at it too, following the Director’s eyes and back. "There..." he wanted to speak.
"Come," the Director said. "We'll talk somewhere there aren't eyes everywhere." The Director’s eyes seemingly looking in the dark and into an area of buildings that wasn't part of the secured area.
"There'll do," he said once again having made up his mind.

