Heavens! This makes the third story I'm working on! Anywho, I'm not sure how fast this'll go, 'cuz it's an 'on the whim' thing. Well, mugging comes later. Enjoy! -Jimmy Candlestick


The hot sun beat down on the California desert. Even up in the air, heat waves could be seen dancing on the ground in the distance. A few carrion birds circled in the air, looking for a dead morsel lying about. All was silent except for the buzzing engine of the small single-engine Cessna 350. The sleek plane was cruising in large circles over an unusual huge rock formation beneath it. The belly was painted a copper blaze, whilst the stripe was suede green.

In the cockpit, the pilot peered below through his dark sunglasses. He was trying to catch a glimpse of some life, but none seemed to dwell in the forbidding ground below. Glancing at the fuel gauge he sighed. He took out a slim black cell phone with the emblem of an 'N' that had a narwhal swimming around it at a slight angle. Hooking it up to his black headset, he dialed a number.

Someone picked up on the other line at the first ring. "Hello?"

"Patch me through to the Major, please," he answered.

"Just a minute."

While he was waiting, he looked down again. The pilot was young, about eighteen, with longish brown hair that extended to the middle of his ears. Taking off his sunglasses, he revealed the most serious eyes one could come across. A deep brown with hints of green near his irises. At first glance, one would think he was just a serious lad that did a lot of pondering, but if they actually looked into them, they would discover pain, sorrow, and age that was not yet supposed to come to him.

"Dawes?" A clipped voice came through.

"Yes sir," he began. "I haven't seen anyone and I'm almost out of fuel, I'm going to have to turn in for the night."

An audible sigh was heard on the other end. "Alright. Wait two more days before going out again. Don't want to look too suspicious."

"Yes, sir. I was-hold on! Someone's coming out."

"Follow him! I want to know where they're going!"

"Yes, sir!" A click on the other end signified that the major had hung up.

The car below had seemingly come out of no where, popping out of the rock wall. Banking right, 'Dawes' followed it toward a dilapidated building not to far from there. It pulled in and must've stopped. For a few minutes, Dawes was afraid he'd have to go ahead and leave, but as the sun was setting, six cars turned off the road and drove toward the building.

Quickly, he switched to auto-pilot and snapped a few pictures with a camera he had lying next to him. He was able to get the symbols on the cars, but unable to get the drivers. Three of them were darker, duller colors, with a funny looking 'M' on them. The other three were brighter, white, blue, and orange colors, their symbol a bit more complicated than the others.

Looking once more at his fuel gauge, Dawes turned to return to the airport. At his hotel, he'd upload the pictures and send them to the major. Then, he would wait for his next orders.