The loose fitting jeans and non-military standard jacket were odd on the usually so rigid Colonel Micah Parker, but, for whatever reason, they asked him to come in street clothes. The colonel was a military man through and through and even the idea of wearing something that wasn't military issue made him uncomfortable. He'd become so used to the form fitting, utilitarian garb dispensed by the government. Sometimes, it was almost as if he had forgotten how to be a civilian, how to be a person outside the uniform, but on the other hand, that's just who he was.<br/><br/>He'd been in China for a few months getting adjusted to his new life and undergoing a large number of pre-examinations. He'd been in a number of different facilities all over the large country, but today was the first day he'd be in the heart of it; in the main headquarters for the organization that chose to go simply as "The Company". It was exciting, after everything that he had been working for, he'd finally be able to make some real change, or so he hoped anyway.<br/><br/><br/>The bustling streets of Beijing were more than just a challenge to navigate, but it wasn't long before Micah found himself at the entrance of an unassuming alley way. The stone walls to either side were stained with age an odd discoloration from the pollution that permeated the city. Toward the end of it he could see a lone figure sitting in a pile of debris. The colonel peered around in an attempt to figure out if this was the right place, but he had no way to be certain. Deciding that standing in place was an ineffective strategy, he began down the small passage. The clearly homeless man near the end of the alley reeked of booze, but something felt off about the situation as a whole. Before those suspicions could become anything more than a vague thought however, the homeless man was up with a gun in hand.<br/><br/>"Credentials, now." He said in a noticeably sober voice. "Slowly." Colonel Micah complied, brandishing his military identification, his "classified organization" badge, as well as the special identification card he was given for this specific occasion. Taking a firm moment to read each thoroughly, he said, "Sorry, colonel, security protocols around here are tight."<br/><br/>Taking the cards back, Micah responded in a respectful tone. "It's all right. Orders are orders."<br/><br/>"Yes, sir." The disguise man responded as he unlocked and opened a door to reveal a descending staircase. The colonel headed down with a respectful nod of departure and the door shut with a magnetic click behind him. The security protocols around here were indeed "tight".<br/><br/>Awaiting him at the bottom was a another military checkpoint, though this one was for more overt. Two security guards stood at a small terminal at the back of the room. "Good morning, sir. We need a retinal and thumb scan before you can continue."<br/><br/>"Very well." He complied without complaint. The military was as full of these kinds of protocols as it could be, this level of security was nothing new.<br/><br/>After the thumb reader chirped in recognition of Micah's fingerprint, a door behind the security station opened. "You're cleared, sir. The lift will take you down to the research level."<br/><br/>"Thank you, gentlemen." He said as he entered the lift.<br/><br/>The door slid shut with a metallic clack and the feeling of G forces shifting began abruptly. The ride was longer than he would have thought. After all, how large of a facility was China going to allow a private, not too mention foreign company to build beneath one of their largest cities. Not to Micah's surprise, another checkpoint waited for him as the elevator doors slid open. "Your organization is certainly thorough, isn't it? He said as he approached.<br/><br/>An older man stood at the terminal, at least in his late 40's, and the look in his eye was hardened. Something about him put Micah on edge; he'd seen a similar roughness in the eyes of people with unyielding intentions to take his life. When he spoke, his voice seemed almost abrasive. "Insert your finger into this device,"" he eluded to a small divot in the back of the terminal. "We require a DNA sample."<br/><br/>"Of course." Micah replied. He placed his index finger within the small opening and an odd scraping feeling began on his fingertip. The gruff security guard never took his gaze from Micah during the process. "Are you all right, sir?" He asked in the spirit of courtesy.<br/><br/>"You're cleared to continue, Colonel Parker." He said not even answering the colonel's question. "Once inside, the facility's AI will guide you."<br/><br/>"Thanks. Good day to you." Micah was overcome with an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity with this man. With a polite nod he entered the complex. If the earthen eyed colonel had happened to turn around however, he would've seen the older guard staring at his back.<br/><br/>"Are you all right, Commander Graff?" The much younger guard looked on in confusion. His boss never acted so cold to another person.<br/><br/>Commander Jeffrey Graff sighed to himself and managed to speak somewhat calmly. "Yes, son. Just an off moment for me. That's all." He smiled broadly at the younger man, but it wasn't what he felt. How could he be all right after seeing the man who got his son killed?