Hidden Enemies | The Prime Archives #2 ✓

eighteen

Chase found himself pacing behind the curtain separating him from the massive crowd who came to see Senator Alastair Crane speak.

He never paced. In fact, he rarely got nervous. Anxious? Sure. Antsy? Definitely. But nervous? That just wasn't him.

He could recall a few times where his nerves nearly got the best of him. They stuck out in his memory like brash graffiti against a stark white skyscraper. He remembered how nervy he had been when starting school in Germany at the age of twelve. He remembered the dread he felt in the base of his stomach when his father took him hunting for the first time. And, more recently, he remembered the first time he had seen Stella.

It still felt like it had been yesterday when he saw her beautiful face in the halls of River Hill High School. Her hazel irises shone like bronze coins beneath the summer sun.

As her illuminating smile filled his head like sunlight consuming a dark room. He felt the tension leaving his taut muscles. His jaw unclenched and he slowed to a stop in front of the heavy curtain in front of him.

Everything was going to be fine. The mission to protect Senator Crane was going to go on without any complications. No one was going to die.

Everything was going to be fine.

"Well, if it isn't Atlas' golden boy," a voice said from behind him.

Straightening up, he turned around to face them.

Standing before him was the senator himself. His dark hair was slicked back, the obsidian strands catching the glare from the spotlight rigs above them. He donned a smart, gray suit with a black tie. A smug smile sat atop his lips.

Chase scowled. "Mr. Crane."

"You don't look happy to see me, Sentinel. That is what they're calling you right?"

He nodded begrudgingly.

Crane rubbed his forehead, stuttering on a response. "You know, I never got the point of codenames. I mean, your team members don't wear masks like comic book heroes. Why not share your real names with the public?"

"That wouldn't be wise, senator. We all have families that we don't want getting hurt because of our occupations."

"Occupations." He laughed. "What kind of company allows children to fight for them?"

Chase aggressively ran his tongue along his front teeth to keep him from snapping. He sucked in a breath before releasing it. "We volunteer our lives for a greater cause. Some of these children are braver than most adults."

"Most humans aren't brave," Crane said, his demeanor thoughtful, almost aloof. "You know, seventy percent of Americans aren't brave? It's a staggering statistic. You'd think with the emergence of superheroes, human bravery would skyrocket."

"I..." He furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."

"I say that to say this," the man continued. "People are afraid of...your kind. Frankly, they don't really understand you. I don't really either. I mean, I've seen the charts and the data, but I don't get it." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I never was a science guy."

Chase quirked an eyebrow at him.

"When people are afraid, tensions can get high. That's where I, specifically the PRA, come in. Under my administration, people won't have to worry about being crushed in the rubble of a building because of a Prime. They won't have to worry about dying a fiery blaze because someone couldn't control themselves. They'll be safe. Secure. Comfortable." He winked at Chase. "Because, after all, it's easier to control a nation when everyone is content."