March Forth (The Woodford Chronicles Book 1) by Deirdre S. Hopton Read Free Book Online Page B

patrol!”  (There was no actual boogie man; ‘boogie man patrol’ was the organization’s amusing nickname for the task force assigned to prevent negative backlash when magical energy was discharged.  The energy, in its raw state, worked by the Golden Rule philosophy, “What you put out will be returned to you threefold.”  The Boogie Man Patrol used technological development to prevent this from happening at inconvenient times.)  Everyone seemed very pleased… except for Steven.  He wordlessly stared at his paper as if waiting for the words typed on it to change.
                  One of the other new officers noticed, and said, “What’s wrong, Drisbane?  Where’d they stick you?”
                  Steven shrugged, and walked away.  The organization had taught him discretion.  He saw no reason to tell the other new officers that his paper said only, “Room 301, 6:00 tonight.”
     
                  At 5:59 pm, he knocked on the door of room 301.  At precisely 6:00 pm, it opened.  General Larsen was nothing if not absolutely literal.
                  “Come in, Drisbane, have a seat,” the General said as he ushered Steven into a room nearly identical to that in which they had had their first meeting.  They both wore the standard black uniforms this time, but Steven’s sense of confusion and dread felt all too familiar.
                  “Why was I not given an assignment, General?”
                  “You were.  You just weren’t given a paper explaining your assignment.”
                  Now that he was quite used to Larsen’s ways, Steven followed up with another direct question.
                  “Why was I not given a paper explaining my assignment?”
                  “Ah.  That is an excellent question.  You’re quite good at asking excellent questions, have I ever told you that?  Well, now I have.”  Larsen shuffled through some papers on the table in front of him.  “You were not given a paper, Drisbane, because you are being given a special assignment, the likes of which the organization has not embarked upon in the past.”
                  “I…wow,” Steven said, nonplussed.  “Doing what, exactly?”
                  “You are going to find David Carver and bring him in by any means necessary.”
                  Steven blinked several times.  “David Carver?  Chief Admiral David Carver?  The founder? I thought he was dead, or in another dimension or something.”
                  “Those are rumors.  We know that he is alive.  For the past couple of years, there have been more and more traces of his molecular structure and energy signature picked up by our equipment.  He never stays in one place long enough for us to catch up to him, and we cannot seem to predict where he will turn up next.”  Larsen sighed.  “For over a decade, he was either laying low or simply … not himself.  We have seen more evidence of him in the past year than we have in the past decade as a whole.”
                  “If this has been going on for over a year, why wait ‘til now to bring him in?  Why didn’t you track him down a year ago?”
                  “Couple of reasons.  First, we needed to train the right candidate to catch the man.  It may not be as simple as finding him and bringing him here.  He may not be the same man he was before he left.  It’s been a very long time.”
                  “What makes me the right candidate?”
                  “Honestly?  There have been too many ‘coincidences’ involving you and him.  I have learned, in my years on this earth, that there is no such thing as coincidence.  You actually met Carver, albeit briefly, just as he was deserting his post.  Then, by a completely unrelated string of so-called ‘coincidences,’