Wanderer 2.0, Book 1 Of The Wanderer Series

An Even More Unexpected Meeting

~A~

There's a charged air in the boardroom. Fourteen men sit around a long oval mahogany table in tense silence. None of them know the reason behind the summoning they received from Phil Roberts. They were merely warned that this mission would require their full attention and that they'd be leaving the country for quite some time if they accepted.

This came as an unsettling shock to them. Only recently had the two Factions merged. Both Factions had just finished missions that took up a lot of their time. The Blackbourne faction having spent a year and a half on a drug cartel in New York City. The Toma faction had spent just over a year trying to rebuild a corrupt political system in Atlanta, Georgia.

They'd been hoping to spend time bonding together, getting to know each other not just as friends but as brothers-in-arms. Technically they could still turn this down, but the way Phil had been going on about it, they wouldn't want to. An old Syndicate veteran had contacted Phil, and said he would make it worth their while. Finding out this man is also on the East U.S.A. Syndicate Senate, made this decision a bit easier. Impressing the local Senate is a sure way to move up in the Syndicate.

Owen Blackbourne, Faction Commander of the newly formed Toma-Blackbourne faction, sits regally to the right of the head of the table which is currently empty. His methodical grey eyes pierce the dimly lit room from behind smudgeless black frames. His black suit is unwrinkled, defying the natural laws of the universe in it's pristine condition even after the long day they've had. Dark brown hair, kept short and uniform, is perfectly combed back from his face. He resembles a government special agent in all his uniform glory.

His manicured fingers, something he only trusts himself to do to his preference, slide down his maroon tie as he adopts a leisured posture with his ankle crossed over his opposing knee.

Beside Owen Blackbourne is the team doctor, Sean Green. He graduated from medical school before he turned eighteen. Now, at twenty-five, he's a full-fledged doctor who specializes in emergency and trauma medicine. His specialty has greatly benefited their faction while simultaneously fulfilling the Syndicate's faction requirements of having at least on medic on deck.

Sean lays lazily in his seat with his head hanging off the back of his chair. He sways from side to side, his grass green eyes foggy with sleep. His blonde curls have grown down past his ears, matching his blonde five o'clock shadow that's been a permanent fixture on his face for nearly a year now. He's bulked out a bit too, mainly in his chest and arms. Trauma cases tend to be a lot more hands on than the everyday patients he use to get at the hospital. Now he uses his skills on the field. Most of the time he has only himself to depend on to move a patient's body as needed. Nothing works out a man's upper body like dragging a three hundred pound woman from a flood zone.

He honestly doesn't know how he feels about this mission. It sounds like it could be one hell of an adventure, but he's so tired.

Beside Sean Green is Dakota Lee, the faction's Co- Captain. At twenty two, Dakota Lee has graduated from college with a doctorate in physics. Hired straight out of college by the Syndicate, Dakota gets to use his skill set in untypical ways. With the Syndicate, Dakota has become an asset that no one foresaw. He works mostly from home, putting together tactical algorithms for the military. For the Syndicate, his unique skill set is used for many various sorts of tasks.

Dakota has grown into quite the man over the years, broadening out in his chest and shoulders. He sits with his arms crossed in a dour mood. His emerald green eyes are narrowed at the table as he contemplates every outcome he can possibly think of.