<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>SPECTRE Command<br/>Location Classified</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Ever since President DuPont seized power, the tangles of red tape had slowly been cut away.  Taxes were still collected, and that was about all Congress did anymore.  They were just the purse strings, the ones who made the people think they had a say in how their government was run.  Most knew it was just a farce, but that was one area that not even DuPont had been able to seize ultimate power.  But while Congress had been culled into being little more than a collection agency for the government, the judicial branch had been all but removed.<br/><br/>Supreme Court Justice Alexander Flemings sat in the interrogation room, stoically silent.  He'd been arrested almost four months ago, and had been held here without trial ever since.  Technically it was the FBI that wanted Flemings, but SPECTRE had been in position.  Flemings' daughter had been a super, and Flemings was using his position to keep it a secret.  As a result, they now had him here, and she was being 'detained' elsewhere.  That thought gave SPECTRE Colonel Taylor Drake a reason to smirk.  He'd seen what they did in those camps, and he knew she wouldn't be having any fun at all.<br/><br/>He turned from behind the two-way glass and headed towards his office on the other side of the building.  Along the way, he passed the Situation Room, a large open area with several computers setup to monitor and display events.  This was just one of twelve SPECTRE commands, each one taking a piece of the country.  A large map of Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana was displayed, with small red dots to indicate areas of activity.  Soldiers in SPECTRE grey sat at their posts, talking into headsets and relaying information from field agents into the collective database.<br/><br/>In his office, Drake sat down and began going through the paperwork waiting for him.  He wanted to make sure everything was set for tonight, and that meant no loose ends.  He didn't want to be distracted with bureaucratic paperwork when he was busy.  He checked the time... he had a few hours before he needed to be there.  He signed off on some equipment requests, made sure that a training exercise was scheduled properly, and finished off with a letter to Brigadier General Joseph Lake.  He and the General had been in the Army together, and still corresponded from time to time.<br/><br/>Standing up, he stepped out of the office and turned off the light, shutting the door and locking it.  Even with professionals in the building, one could never be too careful.  He headed downstairs and found his car waiting for him, along with his usual escort.  He got in the car and relaxed while the driver asked, "Where to, sir?"<br/><br/>"Home," Drake responded, taking a moment for himself, "I need to change, and then there's a benefit tonight I promised to attend for Stacy."<br/><br/>"Sir.  Yes, sir," the driver responded, and began driving.<br/></span>