Sargent Kat sighed as she leaned against a cocoa-brown chair with a deep-green, patterned cushion on the seat of it. It was so boring, being a guard. She knew that the safes were important; each containing about half a million dollars within it, plus weapons, blueprints, food, drink, and many other, varying things. But, honestly, it was a bit hard to respect all of this when all she did, all day every day, was stare at it’s blank gray surface.
The only time she ever got a break was when her shift was over. It began at eight every morning and ended at 10:30 every night. The safes were never left unguarded, though. Another guard took her place at night.
Kat’s base, which is what the military called the safe-rooms, was number four of five. At the end of the hallway, where the last base, Base Five, was located, her best friend, Corporal Kaycee, would be sitting, probably just as bored as her. On Sargent Kat’s other side was Base Three, which was guarded by an eager but dim fellow dubbed Private Bob. Base Two was guarded by a man named Sargent James, and Base One Corporal Helen.
The last (or is that first?) room housed all of the guard’s commanding officer, Major Sanders. This room’s only safe contained not weaponry and provisions but documents and papers. It was Sanders’s office.
Despite the fact that Sanders was their leader, the guards only rarely visited his office. Instead, they communicated on handheld radio devices (more commonly referred to as walkie talkies, or, as the guards liked to call them, HHRD), as that they didn’t have to leave their bases unguarded when they were obliged to report something to another guard or their major.
On the upper floor, there were bunks where the guards slept for the night. This room was accessible by trap doors located on the ceilings of each base. It was a plain, mostly unfurnished room aside from five bunks, each having a tiny wooden bedside table that was to be shared by each of the occupants of the particular bunk. Sanders had is own private bedroom that was connected to his office by a concealed door.
Kat’s Base, Base Four, was furnished by the said chair that she currently leaned upon, with sat in a dusty corner of the room. Nearby there stood a rickety old couch with faded red cloth. Ancient brown pillows decorated only by cobwebs and dust lay on each arm of the unstable couch. At its feet stood a medium-sized ovular coffee table with tan paint pealing. A stack of tattered books stood on one end of the table, and on the other was a plate of food, still steaming. Opposite of the coffee table and couch was the hulking safe, with towered over all of the other objects in the room.
The only light came from an oil lamp, which also sat on the coffee table, and the large window, which took up almost all of the wall-space opposite of Kat and the chair. The window was barred by rusty bars that were possibly older then Kat, who was turning twenty in November. A bookshelf with only half the books that it could hold stood just three or so yards away from Kat. A small medal box about the size of Kat’s hand was lodged on the wall by the door. And that was what the sad little room was furnished with.
Kat was pulled out of her miserable daydreaming state by a mechanical ringing sound emanating from her HHRD, which was clipped to her faded brown belt. In haste, eager for action, Kat unclipped the device and spoke into it.
“This is Sargent Kat do you read me, over,” she said it a official-sounding tone.
“Sargent Kat, this is Corporal Kaycee. I was just wondering if we could chat a little,” all formalities were obviously set aside, for Kaycee didn’t even bother to add ‘over’ to the end of her sentence.
“Kaycee!” Kat said merrily, smiling broadly. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess,” came the nonchalant answer. “All’s fine--but boring--here at Base Five. How’s Four doing?”
“Good.”
“Ah, well,” Kaycee sighed heavily into her walkie talkie, with came out disturbingly garbled on Kat’s end. “I was hoping that something would be going on...”
Kat laughed. “Most guarding these valuables would be glad to have the peace that we’re treated to. Although, I have to agree with you. It’s so boring, being a guard of the Watchtower.”
“Huh.”
“Yep.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence that followed this, both of the friends awkwardly searching for something to talk about. Suddenly, both began conversations at once.
“Don’t you think--” Kat began, only to realize that she was talking over her friend.
“Have you--” Kaycee was saying, before she, too, came to an abrupt pause. “You go first. I’m sure that what you have to say
“Don’t you think that this place could use a little cleaning?” Kat said timidly.
Kaycee laughed so loudly at this that Kat had to hold her HHRD away from her as to avoid becoming deaf. “A little?” Kaycee gasped, still giggling.”It could use a hunka-munka lot more then a little bit of cleaning. Anyway, I can’t believe that I thought that you had to say something more important then me. Why don’t we check on our channels, y’know make sure that we’re still online.”
“Okay,” Kat sighed. “Signing off.”
“Signing off,” Kaycee replied. This was followed by the click of Kaycee’s HHRD being turned off.
Kat turned her’s off a moment later, then strode over to the hand-sized box by the door. She fished a key out from her jean’s pocket, jammed it into the box’s keyhole, and turned it with a click. Kat swung open the paper-thin medal panel to reveal many switches and dials. Each was marked beneath it with a number and a letter. They read as follows:
A1, A2, A3, A4, A5, B1, B2, B3, B4, B5, C1, C2, C3, C4, and C5.
Kat flipped five switches in a pattern, repeating the password in her head, C3, A5, B2, A1, C5. At receiving the correct password, the panel split in half, both sides retreating away from one another. Kat tapped the screen revealed with a finger thrice, and searched through the files broadcasted by the screen. When Kat finally found what she was looking for, her jaw dropped. Her channel was currently offline.
Aghast, Kat smashed a bottom beside the screen, causing the panel halves to join back together, covering up the screen once more. Kat smacked the box’s front panel and, with haste, dislodged the key from it’s place in the lock. She scooped up her HHRD and called Kaycee before she could even consider doing anything different. In the blink of the eye came Kaycee’s panicked answer.
“I-I’m offline, Kat!” Kaycee spluttered nervously. “You?”
“Same,” Kat said bluntly. “I’m going to go notify Sanders. You start to ask the other guards if their online or not.”
“M’kay. Signing off.”
Click.
Kat held true to her word and called Sanders. The answer came almost immediately.
“This is Major Sanders, the Watchtower, do you read me. Over,” Kat heard a deep, gruff voice answer her call.
“The is Sargent Kathrine, Major,” Kat began. “There is something that I must report to you. Over.”
Kat could her Sanders grunt with satisfaction at how formal she was being. “What is it that you want, Sargent? I’m in the middle of sorting through these files, so it’d better be important--”
“It is, Major,” Kat interjected.
“YOU WILL ALLOW ME TO FINISH MY SENTENCE!” Sanders roared. She heard him take a deep breath and then audibly release it, evidently calming himself down. “Now, what is it that you have to report? Over.”
“Corporal Kaycee and I are both offline, sir,” Kat explained, wincing as she heard Sanders inhale sharply as to give himself enough breath to resume yelling at her. So she decided to speak again before he got the chance. “We have not relaxed our guard all day, Major. I haven’t even eaten dinner yet...” Kat glanced hungrily at her plate at this. “And right now, Corporal Kaycee is asking the other guards if they’re offline also.”
Major Sanders sighed heavily. This was followed by a long pause, both of them mauling the situation over and wondering what they should ask the other.
“How did this happen?” Sanders said hoarsely, obviously distraught.
Sanders seemed to be saying this more to himself then to Kat, but she desided to reply nonetheless. “I...I don’t know,” she began, unsure. She didn’t really know what to say, but she knew that something needed to be said. Feeling a odd rush of determination, Kat ended finished with a touch of finality, “But one thing is for sure. Me and my fellow guards will stop this devious character in their tracks.”
“Well said,” the major said. And, even though she couldn’t see him, she could tell that he was giving a short nod at this. “Over and out.”
She heard the click on the other end of the line, signaling the conversation’s end. Kat plunked down heavily on the old red couch, which gave a creak of dismay. What was she to do now?
She heard that familiar metallic ringing drone in her ears. She unclipped her walkie talkie and spoke into the mouthpiece.
“This is Sargent Kat, is that you Corporal Kaycee?” Kat inquired, not even trying to keep the pressing hope out of her voice.
“Yep, it’s me,” Kaycee’s voice replied dully from the other line.
“And the news?” Kat asked, fear closing in her throat. But she already knew the dreaded answer.
“All of the others are also offline. We now have no means of contacting the outside world, or for that matter, disabling the traps in the hallway.”
Kat swallowed, and without even biding her friend farewell, turned her HHRD off. She was trapped, alone, in the sad, desolate little base that was hers to guard. Although she would be able to talk with the others in the mournful-looking bunk-room, she still felt trapped.
How had someone managed to hack into their closely-guarded channel system? Kat had believed that the channels were only accessible by the small control-boxes located solely within the bases, but no one could actually enter the bases, unnoticed, less they were a guard.
Or could they?
-KittyLover8
© 2013
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