After many drinks in a bar, Ross had been attempting to stumble his way home before he finally gave up and decided to sit next to a vagrant on the streets. As the homeless man stared at him, Ross noticed his face was stringent and had the semblance of foul manner. "What the hell is wrong with you?" the words seemed to slur out of his mouth, but he felt a sense of accomplishment when he sat next to the man.

"Your breath smells, and you need to get a life you jerk." the irony of the statement caught Ross by surprise, and he raised his fist to hit the man. "You do that, and I'll get people to do worse to you, you drunk idiot." Ross lowered his fist in ideal with the man's comment. As he sat there, the homeless man was gathering his things and preparing to walk away before he turned around and held his hand out towards Ross. "The name's Benjamin."
Ross hesitantly shook the man's hand, "The name's--" he was quickly interrupted.

"...Ross, I know." Ross suddenly let go of the man's hand and looked at him questioningly. "Don't worry, I only know because you're wanted somewhere..." the man stared at a clock in one of the buildings behind him, "fairly soon, actually. I must be going, Ross, have a good night." As the man walked down the street, Ross noticed he had a limp in his gait, but thought nothing of it.

Although very close to an inebriated state, Ross could still question the odd man's statement. "He already knows me?" he thought to himself. "Maybe we went to High School together...but he looked kind of old, maybe not." he sat there thinking until another man walked up to him. "Hey, where did Benjamin go?" Ross looked up at the man. He was tall, skinny, and wearing a dilapidated outfit. "Must be another vagrant," he thought.

"The other old guy? He left, but he didn't say where to." The man looked at Ross, then at a clock in the store behind Ross. "Say...you don't happen to know if that Benjamin guy is CIA or something..do you?" the man laughed at the question.
"That old guy, in the CIA? He'd be a disgrace to such a manner of government equality. Besides, the CIA doesn't hold water against the R--" the man paused and looked at Ross, he seemed to recognize him. "Who are you anyways?" Ross looked up when the man paused.
"The name's Ross. Why? Are you going to run away from me to? Is this some kind of joke?" the serious situation hit Ross and seemed to make him entirely sober. When things got heated, alcohol couldn't even hold him back. Ross stood up and reached for the man, who was backing into the street.

"I'm sorry, I cant talk to you." He quickly turned around and started to walk faster as Ross chased him. "I cant talk to you!"
Ross almost had him, but the man was sly and eluded the snatch. "What the hell is going on!" Ross shouted. The man stopped in the street and turned around. Ross saw that his eyes were wide, and it looked as if he were high.

"Do you really want to know, Ross?" the man started slowly walking forward. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but they want to kill you!" Ross stepped back from the man, who was getting closer. "I am part of an--" a screeching car interrupted the man, who was now staring down the street with wide eyes. "No! Look what you've made them have to do!" the man started running down the street, but the car only sped up. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the car ran into the running man and drove over his body. Another car came speeding down the street, and Ross could only stare.

Two tall men in black robes got out of the car and walked towards Ross. One of them was carrying a white suitcase, which he was opening as they inched closer to Ross. "What's this?" Ross screamed. As he tried to escape, the hindering effects of the alcohol started to rush through his legs, and he collapsed. One of the men grabbed Ross and held him down as the other readied a needle. Ross tried to fight the man, but his grasp was to great. He felt a prick in his leg, and the world began to spin around him, and then blackness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ross awoke in a white room, his head was light, and pounding. He was wearing a white set of clothes, which he must have been changed into. The absence of color seemed to frighten Ross as he scoured the room for a way out. After 20 minutes, he could find not doorway, no window, no slits; he could find no way out. Just as things seemed hopeless, a voice echoed in the room.

"Hello, Ross." the accent of the voice was British, and it was nothing that Ross could recognize.

"What the hell do you want with me? Who are you!" he screamed. The voice turned into a meditative repetition of breathing until he finally got an answer.

"I think the better question, Ross, is who are you?" it seemed an arrogant question.

"You obviously know who I am--" he was interrupted.

"Such foolish thoughts you have, Ross. We simply know your status in certain...organizations. In truth, you already know why we have taken you."

Ross sat and thought while he listened to the breathing again. "Wait. Is this because I'm the security advisory at--" he was interrupted again.

"No. Do not make me pity you for being so ignorant. You're not here for simple and secular things."




TO BE CONTINUED

NOT GOOD CLOSURE, BUT I HAVE TO COOK SOME DINNER.

I'm intrigued ...... can't wait for the next installment ....