The Shadow Command

For a thirty-five year old man, General Thompson Holbrook was aging faster than he should. Seeing the streaks of white in his deep brown hair through the phone screen before him caused a wave of existential crisis to settle into him. He turned on the screen and navigated to the FaceTime icon. Now wasn't the time to wonder if he needed to buy hair dye.

“Sir.” A voice he had grown familiar with out of necessity called beside him. Thompson sank into his seat, feeling the pressure of being mid-air underneath his feet. It was his assistant, Darren.

“Darren, we don't land for another seven hours. I'm about to get on FaceTime with my wife and daughter. Whatever you're about to say better be important.”

“It is, sir.” Darren responded. Thompson turned to look at his assistant. He looked the usual. A slightly nervous wreck with his tablet strongly clamped against his chest.

“Well, spit it out.” Thompson said, feeling the impatience grow in his voice.

“The National Security Adviser wants to speak with you. He says it's urgent.”

Thompson exhaled, already feeling the impatience in him turn into mild exhaustion.

“We're in a plane, Darren. I'm sure whatever he has to say can wait till we land.”

“But sir—”

“I haven't spoken to my family in days. I need some privacy please. Hold off the adviser till I'm ready to speak to him.”

“Sir, I don't think—”

“You can do that, right?”

A brief pause passed between the general and his assistant, only coated by the slight beeps from the overhead speakers.

“Yes sir.” Darren finally commented.

Thompson watched him turn away and walk back to the corner of the place he'd come from.

“Jesus.” He exhaled again before turning to his screen one more time. This was his family time and no one was going to interrupt it. Not even the security adviser.

“Daddy!” The voice of Ash, his ten year old daughter screeched across his phone speakers. Soon, her excited face appeared on his screen, matching the giddiness in her voice.

“Hey, baby girl.” Thompson smiled and waved back. “How's it going?”

“It's going great!”

“You can tell me all about it when I get home right?”

“Yes!”

“Great. I can't wait to see you.”

“Can't wait to see you too!”

“Hey, where's your mom?”

The phone screen flickered a little before settling on his wife's face, one he was looking forward to seeing more than anything.

“Hello, General.” His wife teased, a playful smile on her face. “I didn't know you were allowed to make phone calls on war planes.”

“I didn't know either.” Thompson replied, a mild laugh lacing his voice. “I guess Darren thought it was about time.”

“How do you feel, Tom?” His wife asked again, the playfulness on her face slowly disappearing.

“It still feels really surreal, Alex. Something keeps telling me I'll get pinched and wake up to realize this is all a dream.”

Alex laughed. “You've always been the kind of guy who lingers in disbelief. I'm afraid this isn't a dream. You're coming home.”

“Five years was practically eternity. I'm never doing this again.”

“You were serving your country. I'm sure there's a medal of honor waiting for you back home.”

“Trust me, as long as I can see you and Ash, I couldn't care less about any medal.”

“You're on your way home, aren't you? I don't think anything is going to stop you from seeing us.”

“I've missed way too much.” Thompson said, feeling the regret roll over his stomach. “I can't wait to catch up with everything again.”

“Hopefully, another war doesn't send you to the borders of some other country soon.” Alex replied, the smile now returning to her face.

“Yeah.” Thompson replied.

“I can't wait to see you, Tom.” Alex said again. “We both can't wait.”

Five years of war can take away a man’s life if he's lucky—his humanity if he isn't. Witnessing nothing but bloodshed and shell bombs for half a decade, Thompson couldn't be happier to get back home to his family. Watching his daughter grow up on the other end of a screen didn't exactly bode well with him. Now that he was going back home, he could see it in realtime. He might have missed a lot, like her first day of school or her first report card, but now he was going to try his best to contribute to other parts of his daughter’s life. Now he was going to be the kind of father Ashley had always wanted. If only this plane could go any faster and touch down already. For someone who had to handle some air strikes in the past few years, spending hours lazing around in an airplane was probably the most mind numbingly boring thing he'd had to do. The plane was only big enough to take a few people, him, his assistant, a hostess and the pilots. He leaned back into his chair, trying his absolute best not to ring up the flashbacks of the trenches threatening to flood his brain. If he gave way for one, the memories would start pouring in. He needed to look composed when he saw his wife and kids. They were the only thing keeping him going over the past five years. They were his beacon of light, the only reason he decided to keep pushing even after members of his infantry continued to die one after the other. He was determined to live, no matter what. He had something to live for and he would do all he can to get back to his family.

Basking in his fading memories with his family before he left for war, he slowly drifted off to sleep. Happy thoughts warranted happy memories. Happy memories bring forth happy dreams and at this point, he was going to take all he could get.

He woke up several hours later, aligning exactly with the time the plane touched the tarmac. His heart beat with severity at the thought of seeing his family again. Even as he checked out of the plane and boarded a cab home, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Ash didn't recognize him. What if he wasn't what she was expecting?

He got home almost an hour later. A rush of excitement swam across his body as she dragged his suitcase out of his car. He thought of calling his assistant to tell him he's gotten home but thought against it. Dennis was probably going to taunt him about something else.

The feeling that something was wrong did not evade him as he dragged his suitcase across the cobblestones leading to his entrance. The house was quiet.

Way too quiet.

Something was wrong. Was Alex and Ashley out for some grocery shopping or something? Biding the thoughts aside, he trudged to the entrance. The crashing feeling settled into him once again when he noticed that the door wasn't only unlocked but slightly open. Feeling his grip slip off the suitcase, he sped into the house, throwing all caution to the wind.

“Alex!?” He screamed as he made his way across the foyer and into the living room. Silence.

“Alex?!” He screamed again.

Silence again.

Oh God.

He rushed to the staircase leading to the master's bedroom and climbed across it. The unsettling feeling in him continued to grow rapidly as he approached the bedroom door. Just like the front door, the bedroom door was also slightly ajar. He pushed it open and was met with a sight that made dizziness crash into him almost immediately.

Alex was sprawled across the carpeted floor, blue and utterly lifeless. Blood oozed from her stomach into the carpet.

Thompson felt a giant force, like a secondary form of gravity, push him straight into the floor, and for almost a few seconds, he was unable to move.