“Hey, wake up.”

Silas felt a gentle shove against his shoulder, rousing him from his slumber. Silas suddenly felt himself pitch to the right violently and he was almost thrown out of his seat. Catching himself on the door, Silas pushed himself back into the car with a grunt. Raven chuckled weakly as his fist clenched the door frame, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

“Mind the bumps, huh? We’re about ten minutes out, by the way. Damn storms are making this fun, though.” Raven said shakily with a painful attempt at a smile.

“They always do.” Silas muttered back. He cocked an eyebrow at Raven’s pained face. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Don’t really care for being in a steel tube hanging thousands of feet in the air in the middle of a thunderstorm…there’s a reason we aren’t born with wings.” Raven replied darkly as he moved to the passenger side of the car. The door slammed behind him as Raven continued, “I’ve received orders to report back to the Citadel, I’ll have to transfer to a commercial jet once we land. Cassie also needs to talk to you, I don’t remember if I told you or not…”

“You did, I remember that much…I haven’t slept like that in a while.” Silas mumbled as he pushed his hair back off his face.

“Must’ve been nice, I never could sleep in these damn things.” Raven complained as he buckled himself in. Silas merely nodded and rubbed an eye with the heel of his palm. The plane rocked again, more violently this time, and Raven moaned loudly while covering his face.

“Did that all translate to that you get airsick?” Silas asked, surprised as he looked over at Raven.

“One of my few flaws, yeah.” He moaned as the plane pitched again.

“Just don’t lose it in my car please… I can’t stand that smell.” Silas muttered. Raven grunted in reply.

Silas looked at the small windows in the plane and saw the Seattle skyline burning in the distance. It was raining as usual, albeit a little harder than normal. Silas had lived outside of the city for nearly two and a half years now and the dreary, rain-washed metropolis had become his home. He felt the jerk of landing while the decrease in velocity made his gut sink. Then they abruptly stopped. He looked in the review mirror and saw that the loading ramp was lowering. He and Raven got out and unhooked the vehicle.

“You mind if you give me a ride to my plane?” Raven asked as he unhooked the last tether. Silas agreed as he straightened. Raven straightened and looked out at the torrential downpour. He made a small noise in his throat and shook his head as he looked back a Silas. “I don’t know how you live here; it’s damn depressing if you ask me.”

Silas chuckled as he threw aside the tether he had in his hands, “You get used to the rain and it usually isn’t that heavy. It’s usually just a light mist or a drizzle. It plays havoc with your health at first; I had a cold for the first three months. The sneezing almost compromised one of my assignments.”

Raven grunted in amusement as he got back into the car and slammed the door. Silas gazed at the rain for a moment, noting how cold it was. The first mountain snow would be early this year, heralding the end of autumn. The engine roared to life as he slammed his door shut. Nodding to the pilots through the windshield, Silas backed slowly down the ramp and into the deluge. He looked across the rain swept airport as Raven pointed to a plane that was prepping for takeoff a couple gates down. There were several runway workers in fluorescent orange rain ponchos rushing from one task to the other as Silas pulled up to the plane.

Raven reached behind his seat to pullout his equipment bag. Metallic clinking came from the bag as he put in his lap. He looked up at Silas and smiled guiltily. “Cass is worried about you, I kinda told her about how ragged you look.”

Silas rolled his eyes and sighed, “Thanks for that. She never stops worrying.”

“She’s like the overbearing little sister you never had. She isn’t that way with me.” Raven said with a smirk. His face grew serious. “Anyway, she seemed a little anxious to speak to you.”

Silas didn’t say anything, just nodded in acknowledgement. His mind was far away, back in Moscow, back to being paralyzed in fear by that featureless being in the dead hours of the morning.

“Something you want to share?” Raven asked, watching his face.

Silas, coming out of his reverie, looked back at Raven and shook his head. “Nothing important. You take care of yourself, Raven.”

Raven blinked at this sudden dismissal, but opened the door all the same, “You too, Silas, I’ll be in touch.”

Silas nodded again and the door slammed shut. He pulled away from the plane and drove to the gate leading into the packed parking lot. He stopped at the gate and showed the guard his identification. His status with the government allowed him the clearance to go anywhere, the many Restricted Zones that dotted the states open to him.

The rain was still coming in hard as he drove through the city, the weather seemingly wiping his fellow drivers memory of how to operate their vehicles. He didn’t mind though. The honking horns and the fuzzy red taillights gave him some small semblance of normality that he greatly appreciated.

It was late afternoon now but it already felt like dusk from the thick clouds overhead. The night would be complete by the time he reached home. He trudged through the heavy traffic for until he was out of the city. The Seattle area was much larger back before the War reached the States shores. Much of Seattle and its surrounding Coastal Cities had to rebuilt from the ground up after the former Japanese Empire razed them to the ground, with some much-needed fortifications added.

The dark roads leading north put on full display what the War had cost the country. He passed entire towns that lay empty, their rain soaked ruins dimly lit by the few functioning street lamps. Rubble still littered the streets, half-destroyed buildings loomed in the gloom like ancient forgotten monoliths, but here and there, light that signaled life dotted the darkness. Much of the rebuilding effort was thrown into the cities that dotted the west coast or ports like Seattle, turning them from war-torn into bustling cites of trade in only a few years time.

The Coastal Cities were among the most defended, most fortified cities in the States, creating a massive line of defense know in D.C. as the Bulwark. But behind the Bulwark, the War had the left the land stark and empty, with only a few intrepid investors attempting to revitalize the wilderness. The closest town to his estate, Glacier, was one such project and seemed to be the only one that was thriving. Most of the town was dark as he drove through it, the drive putting him past the curfew.

He lived in complete isolation; he was almost five miles from the nearest house. He usually wasn’t home for that long, but he enjoyed the small amount of time he got to spend there between assignments. At last he rounded a large cliff base to come to a large valley surrounded by rolling hills that spiked up into soaring peaks. Those peaks were obscured to him now by drifting curtains of white.

Nestled amongst the dusky pines, invisible through the snowy wind, was his manor. There was no fence surrounding the land he owned, but a large wrought iron gate stood sentinel over the main drive. Cold snowflakes kissed his cheek as he slowed to punch in the entry code. The drive wound through the dark forest before breaking into a clearing, the old lodge standing alone atop a gentle hill.

The bleak weathered stone of it lent a lonely cast and the tall windows were like pleading eyes, begging Silas never to leave again. The swirling purple-gray of the sky above and the gentle snowfall against the shades of grey settling over the mansion gave Silas a sense of a peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ivy had begun its assault on the exterior of the lodge before succumbing to the icy chill of the coming winter. The dried, dead webbing that remained clung to the windows of the bottom story.

When he discovered the lodge through an ad in a Glacier newspaper, it was nothing but a decaying corpse; he breathed life back into the house when he purchased it. He had workers restore the lodge to its former glory while he was away and had even pitched in when he returned from assignments. In a little less than a year, it had transformed from a ruin into a much needed sanctum where he could be alone.

As he followed the path, it led him to the back of the building were the garage door was situated underneath the building, he paused before the door and hit a button in the console above him. When the door slid upward smoothly, he drove through into the cavernous garage and parked next to a sleek black coupe. Taking his bag in hand, Silas stepped out into the chilly garage, the slam of the door piercing the quiet. He slowly looked around the garage, taking in that fleeting feeling of long awaited arrival. Everything was the way he left it, save for a few tools that scattered across the floor.

An involuntary smile pulled on his lips as he headed towards the stairs that would take him up into the kitchen, pausing at a small screen before heading up. Silas never got tired of that comfortable feeling of homecoming he felt whenever he returned. With a few swipes of his finger he brought up his cache of music and after a few taps, a quiet introspective piano number poured throughout the house. Silas pushed opened the door, only stopping in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator before making his way to the main stair case.

As he entered the main hall, a great flash of shadow streaked down the grand staircase. The great black dog tackled him to the ground, his bag and bottle flying from his hands, pinning Silas with a set of massive paws to his chest. The dog put his muzzle right in his face and growled deep in his chest for a few seconds, then proceeded to bathe Silas’s face in merry saliva with his tongue.

“Atticus, alright! Alright! I get it! I get it! never leave again!” Silas laughed as he pushed against the dog. The dog stopped and then nuzzled against Silas’s chest as he rubbed the side of his jaw. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.”

The dog cocked his head, his crimson tongue flopping out the side of his mouth, and wagged his tail as Silas scratched his ears. Silas got to his feet, grumbling as he wiped away loose hairs and saliva before grabbing his fallen bag and bottle. Hefting the bag, he moved towards the stairs, Atticus darting ahead of him. He had to report in with Cassie; she didn’t like being kept waiting.

He strode up the stairs, glancing out of the tall window at the landing. The snowfall was gentle, nowhere near what he experienced in Moscow, but it still sent him back to the blood for a sickening moment. He walked past lavish but deserted bedrooms while he tried shaking off his guilt. His boots made relatively little noise against the thick carpet that ran down the center of the hallway as his breath billowed out in a white cloud every time he exhaled. The house was freezing, but it didn’t bother Silas and it certainly didn’t bother Atticus with his shaggy coat.

He walked along the hallway until he came to a large study at the end of it. Book shelves that ran up the high ceiling lined the room with a large window giving a view of the meadow the house sat in and the mountains surrounding it. The study was by far the most lived in room in the mansion, with the clearly used furniture and décor of a more personal nature.

“It’s almost like I never left.” He muttered, looking around the room. Almost like he hadn’t spilled more blood.

The various books occupying the shelves ranged from medical journals to history books on the countries of the world, but all had one thing in common. All bore the signs of frequent use, with the dog-eared pages and the tattered bindings. Silas had read nearly every book that sat on those shelves. Books, he felt, were a never ending source of knowledge and the more he knew, the better equipped he was to handle his missions. A large fire place took up most of the remaining wall with a large screen situated above it. He stopped by the door and turned to another pad, tapped it and a fire sprang up in the hearth.

Atticus was already laying on his lavish cushion, his head resting on his paws, amber eyes watching Silas as he deposited the bag on the desk near the window. Bathed in the orange glow he went to the screen and stepped in front of it. A red light winked on above the screen and a beam of light shot into Silas’s right eye.

“Retina scan confirmed, login please.” A cool female voice commanded.

“Call sign: Silas.”

“Password.”

“Damn passwords....” Silas muttered as he racked his brain for the latest one.

“Password incorrect, one attempt remaining.” The cool voice warned.

“Zero-seven-blackbird.” Silas said through gritted teeth, internally cursing Cassie’s new security system.

“Voice pattern and password confirmed. Welcome home, Night Angel Silas. Who would you like to contact?” the female voice switching over to a more a pleasant tone.

“Cassandra Rhodes, please.” Silas asked as he crossed his arms.

“One moment please.”

The screen brightened and an empty room came into view. Silas allowed his eyes to glaze over a bit as he waited, the ever present weariness battering against his body. A door opened to the right of the screen, the light showing an office filled with towers of files and books. Silas could see empty Styrofoam coffee cups littering the surface the files and papers didn’t cover. Cassie was brilliant, but she lived inside her head most of the time and her office suffered for it. A young woman came into view and plopped down in the empty office chair with what looked like a fresh cup of coffee in hand.

The past six years hadn’t touched the cheery smile she always had ready for him, but her innocence had hardened into a jaded maturity that rivaled his own. Unlike him however, she had at least retained her sense of humor. Her smile faltered a little as she studied his face, though. Her smile then turned into slight frown, probably due to how haggard his face must look.

Silas answered her faltering smile with a small one of his own, “Hello, Cassie.”