Chapter 11

When I walk outside of the institution that afternoon I'm met by a white car and a short pale man as my chauffeur waiting for me. I extend my hand out towards him. He accepts it and shows me to the car.

"Mr. Ortiz is very excited to have you over, please relax and we'll be there in a few minutes." He says. He begins driving and I begin to look outside of the window and admire the infrastructure of the great city.

"Wow, this is amazing! What a great city!" I say happily. I notice the driver look at me through the rearview mirror.

"It sure is, you're not from here?" He asks me. I'm a bit hesitant to respond.

"No, I've only recently lived here," I answer. He makes a noise of understanding; we pull up to an empty lawn. I walk out.

"Where is the house?" I ask.

"ACCESS CODE! R-I-A-M-N-A," the old man recites

A beautiful fluorescent blue light reveals the humongous house of Ezequiel Ortiz. A white palace with golden engravings on the pillars holding up the house. I look in amazement I had never seen anything more mesmerizing. I walk up to the red-carpeted staircase that leads to the front door. Security stops me at the front door.

"Name please," the security guard rudely demands.

"Aaron Philan," I respond. He looks at his roster of names and checks a box and moves aside and opens the door for me.

"Enjoy," he says in a sarcastic tone.

I walk in and the inside of the home is more magnificent than the outside, the rims of each room were in gold with similar engravings to the outside ones. The staircase was a beautiful white and was in the shape of a helix. And a huge family portrait hand-painted with Ezekiel, Olivia, Dante, two little girls, and a woman that's presumably Ezequiel's wife. I'm cut short of my staring by the cold hands of Ezequiel.

"I'm so glad you could make it Aaron please right this way." He says while guiding me to a huge hall with many visitors and some of my comrades that run over to greet me.

"Dude you went crazy on him!"

"I didn't think you were gonna pull through!"

"You did everyone a favor!"

"You could be but on the Alpha Squad!"

They all say to me in a congested circle the congregation is cut short by a clanking of a wine glass.

"Thank you all for attending the dinner party in honor of our graduating soldiers of perfection! Enjoy your food and make sure to be ready for tomorrow's prerequisite mission at 5 am sharp." Olivia announces in a white dress and Dante beside her with a black vest and white dress shirt under. She runs over to greet me with a hug.

We all heard about the huge news, me and Dante are so proud of you, and for you to beat him that badly you really showed out!" She exclaims. Dante looks unimpressed and walks off. I wonder why he's so angry, I decide to follow him.

I enter the backyard door and I see Dante sitting on the staircase leading to the extensive lawn with a pool that houses a fountain; just how rich are they? I join him on the stairs.

"Hey, are you alright? You seem a bit upset at me." I ask cautiously. He takes a deep exhale and looks at me.

"You gave up your freedom for people you didn't even know, why?" I'm shocked by the straightforwardness of his question nonetheless I answer.

"It makes me feel good; helping people you know? Isn't that the whole reason you join the military?" I say. He looks at me with great disdain.

"Do you hear yourself right now, this isn't a fairy tale it's real-life can you really sit here and say that cliché overused garbage!" He yells. I look at him with concern.

"Dante, I'm sorry if I made you mad-" I begin to say.

"Stop saying sorry about every single fucking thing!" He yells even louder at me.

"Be ready for the mission tomorrow you're gonna need it." He says while storming off. Mr. Ezequiel tries to console him, but Dante jerks his arm away. Mr. Ezequiel walks over to me and takes a seat.

"That boy; has never been the same after his mother died." He relays to me.

"I'm sorry to hear that about your wife sir, you've raised great children as a single parent," I respond to him. He looks over and smiles with a tear escaping his eye.

"Your dad raised a good son as well," he says. I laugh a little.

"I haven't met my dad yet, and I probably never will, my mom raised all herself," I say. He immediately retracts his earlier statement, but I take no offense to it. Olivia comes out to sit with us and we all watch the silky, smooth red streaks scraping the clouds and the sun's yellow dimming radiance into the night's calm. As we prepare for the hell that tomorrow will be.