2-0-2-2-0

My father is the former President of the United States. My father is Ronald Reagan. The current president is killed, and with no one to turn to, Reagan decides to step in. In a weird way, I also work for him, as I am a secret service agent, along with 3 others that are on this special team to complete a specific task. It has to do with a foreign relation, because we are about to board a plane and fly to our destination across the seas. We are transporting a package that is very important to this mission, and has safeguards to it in case it doesn't reach its intended recipient. All of our team has had an implant in our bodies, which are connected to a timer. The timer is connected to a backpack, which one of us wears containing "the package." If we don't de-activate the timer by the time it reaches zero, all of us will be killed by our internal implant, which will release a toxin in our blood stream.

There has been a delay, and Ronald is going over his speech for what he will say to the other party. Once we start finally boarding our plane, I notice the backpack timer is ticking with 20 seconds left. I freak out and take the backpack off of my partner, and rush it across the room to another guy who has the deactivator. He's already feeling the effects of the implant, and we rush to inject him with some antidote drug.

The deactivation code was told to us in briefing, but I'm panicking and can't remember the sequence. Then it comes to me. 2-0-2-2-0. The timer has already reached zero.

A girl in training said, "Right for chai, left you die."

The Old Man and the Sea

The beginning of something between dream and thought...


Luke had to remember. He just had to. And why did it seem so real to him? Was it a dream? Details seemed to come and go. Luke was now deep in his thoughts. Then almost like starting a film reel, the memory began to play in his head. The rolling sounds of the waves crashing upon the shore seemed to invade his mind. It was dark, but a brightly lit night from the moon. He thought he had probably ran far enough now. He was somewhere he could be alone; and this is where he liked to be. The ocean and Luke seemed to understand each other, speaking in a language he did not comprehend but understood. But then, up above the horizon, something he hadn't seen before.

A hooded figure walked toward the beach a couple hundred yards in front of him, but something was not normal about this figure. The oddly short and wobbly "man" walked down towards the water hurriedly, like he had a specific purpose. Then he abruptly stopped. Then something happened. The man whisked his hand up in the air, and almost at once, the rhythm of the waves stopped in their tracks. It was as if time had stopped.

Luke watched on in amazement and horror as the hooded man then lifted his other hand in the same motion, and again the water obeyed his movement, and suddenly rose backward upon itself as if retreating back into the depth of the waters. The now large wall of water suspended and awaiting further command was still, and the man casually walked toward the now dry land which once was ocean, and then down an opening of a large chasm. In haste, Luke ran toward the shoreline to get a better view, but was careful not to be seen. He now saw what looked like a heavily wrinkled older man, now with his hood hung behind him walking quite briskly down what appeared to be stairs made right from the earth itself. And then, a door appeared. The man flung his hand forward, and the door abliged, welcoming him inside, and then politely closed. Then Luke thought about it. Would he do it? He looked at the still standing wave and then made a dash for it. As fast as he could, Luke sprinted toward the staircase, following the same path of the man, and reached the door. The thunderous sound of the wall of water was loud and now not far behind him. He knew what was coming next . . .