An undisclosed location...
"You called?"
The crisp British accent cut solidly through the crowded room. Lucius Griffin turned to take in its source. The man before him was well-dressed, as was his custom, in a designer black suit, sans tie, accented with a charcoal grey shirt that brought out his eyes. His short white hair stood styled straight up.
He was young, certainly, but his youth was deceptive. Griffin had relied on this man many times before and each time the results far exceeded his own expectations.
Griffin smiled and extended his hand. "Dr. Carmichael. Thank you for coming so soon."
"Call me 'Seven,'" Carmichael said humorlessly, ignoring Griffin's hand. "What's the problem?"
"We've got a red light," Griffin said, wondering why he even bothered with pleasantries were Seven was concerned.
"Then why call me in?" Seven responded. "You have agents for that kind of thing, yes?"
"Did I say 'a' red light?" Griffin said, gesturing toward an enlarged display of the globe that filled an eighteen-foot high wall on the far side of the headquarters. In every major city in the world - and a few not-so-major ones were 'events' were known to crop up - there was a small light bulb. As Seven looked at the board, his eyebrow raised - his only sign of emotion.
"I must have been mistaken, then," Griffin said, "because I meant to say seventy-seven..."
"Odd," Seven replied, his eyebrow still raised.
"Which is why we called you," Griffin said. "Compounded by the fact that most of these have cropped up within the last ten hours."
"Brief me," Seven said curtly. "As quickly as possible."
"The States seem to be the key source of all these happenings, truth be told." Griffin picked up a large stack of printed read-out, handing them to Seven, who casually flipped through, his gaze flitting periodically from the files, to the board, to Griffin. "Chaos recently erupted in Los Angeles resulting from chaos in a laboratory. The US Military has just reported the disappearance of a highly experimental android weapon, according to our sources. Still no word on the Mars expedition out at NASA. Traces of an extradimensional gateway flickered across our monitors little more than four hours ago. Too brief to put a trace on it, but long enough for something to slip through, obviously. Our satellites picked up an unidentified flying object entering Earth's atmosphere somewhere in upstate Illinois. A crack in space-time appeared and reappeared moments ago along the eastern seaboard. And, lastly, there are reports of activity in the Adirondacks."
Seven turned his head sharply toward Griffin, his angular features directed toward the man. "You mean to tell me that they might be --"
"I understand your concern, Doctor, especially after the last time. Still, under the circumstances, we feel that the happenings out there are secondary to some of these other potential threats."
"Secondary?" Seven retorted, his nostrils flaring. "After what I saw, you have the audacity to tell me that something like this is secondary when you, of all people, know full well what I saw?"
"Dr. Carmichael... Seven, this is the Prometheus Initiative. We are, of course, looking into the goings-on in the Adirondacks, but you are the best agent we have and, given the nature of the incident in Los Angeles, your skills and expertise will do more good to more people there."
Seven paused, rubbing his forehead. Looking back up at the map wall, then back at his files, he raised his head. "Who did you send?"
"Beg pardon?"
"To the Adirondacks. Who did you send?"
"Agents Arcola and Ramierez," Griffin replied. "We're expecting their report within the hour."
"Very well," Seven said. "If I am to go to Los Angeles, I expect to be notified as soon as they check in."
"I don't owe you anything, Doctor," Griffin said, setting his jaw.
"That may be," Seven said, "but if something does come of this, I may be the only one who can save this wretched planet."
The thin Brit sighed, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the interior pocket of his jacket. Pounding one out into his hand, he quipped, "I had a feeling about today... should do well not to ignore those."
"You can't smoke in here!" Griffin said indignantly.
"Tell me about it," Seven said, striking a match and raising it to his lips.
Griffin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I'll have Li brief you more specifically en route to L.A.," he said. "You are dismissed, Doctor."
Seven merely nodded. "Cheers," he said, turning and exiting the headquarters of the Prometheus Initiative without looking back.
