M arch 20, 2018, 1400

18-Wheeler Transport, Victorville, CA

When Reggie and Marco walk up to the address on the card, the terminal didn’t look like other small terminals the men had been to. They were expecting a small two-tone brown and cream bungalow, the type people rent because it's more cost-effective. The bungalow would usually sit in the middle of a large poorly graveled lot, and next to it would be the standard light blue port-a-potty. The lot would be surrounded by an extremely flimsy wire fence that had been backed into a couple of times.

The building they arrive to was a small corporate building; it had large, slightly tinted windows around a grayish blue painted building, and a well-paved parking lot. On the side of the structure was big red lettering that read 18-Wheeler Transport. It looked way more professional than they had expected.

“I think we are underdressed,” Marco said checking his clothes in the reflection of the window. He thought his choice of faded blue jeans, red converse, and a dust streak red and black plaid shirt wasn't as good of a decision. He ran his hand across his low-cut dark brown hair as if he had bristles on the bottom of his hand.

“Speak for yourself,” Reggie said, standing there in his plain tan slacks and black polo shirt, that was ironed and crisp. He smiled at his own reflection, standing erect, checking that his extremely curly black hair didn't have a curl out of place.

After another ten minutes of checking themselves out, they walk into the building through the big double glass doors, entering a well-lit and spacious lobby. There were black leather chairs against the white walls with a well-carved wood coffee table in front of them. An organized pile of trucker and Sports Illustrated magazines lay on the table. Across the room was a mahogany desk with a young blonde woman whose hair was in a tight neat bun. She seems very energetic with her eyes bright as she fidgets around in her desk, organizing and reorganizing the same stack of paper.

“Welcome to 18-Wheeler Transport. My name is Jennifer, how can I be of assistance?” She said cheerfully when she noticed the two confused looking men walking through the door. She looked back and forth between Reggie and Marco waiting for them to answer, with a wide toothy smile on her face.

“We are here to apply for the over the road team positions,” Marco spoke first.

“Yes. We were given this card by a man and woman team we helped out a couple of days ago,” Reggie said pulling the card out of his wallet.

The secretary took the card and looked it over. She cleared her throat a bit and looked back up at both men, with her eyebrows raised. She placed the card on her computer screen for a couple of seconds, three beeping noises sounded and her mouth dropped.

“Is there something wrong?” Marco asked clearing his throat.

“How did you get this again?”

“Two days ago, we jumped in to help your driver getting jumped by some guys with platinum blonde hair. They were about to stab him when Marco and I rushed over.”

“Really? You stopped to help?” she said with a hint of disbelief staring at the small frame of the two-thin light brown men standing in front of her. “And saved the man on this card?”

“Yeah! He was about to get hurt, they were trying to kill him. I have a red belt in Muay Thai and Reggie has a black belt in jujitsu. I don’t know about Reggie but I didn’t pay all that money to never use my skills,” Marco said through clenched teeth, “sitting there and watching a man die isn’t something I can do.”

They all stared at each other in silence. Reggie and Marco waited for her to say something but nothing came. She just started to blink like her eyes had been without moisture for a long time. She opened and closed her mouth like she was trying to formulate a response but her brain wouldn't give her the right thing to say. The only thing that woke her from her daze was the blaring sound of her phone.

Jennifer fumbled around with the phone before answering it, with a quick yes sir. Reggie and Marco could hear a male voice on the other end giving her instructions because of the way she was quickly jotting things down on the yellow legal pad. Occasionally, she would still look up at them with questions in her eyes, and she seemed to be searching for the answers in Reggie and Marco's faces.

"Well," she said as she hung up the phone, "It seems you are expected. Follow me, please."

She pushes a button, the front door locks, and another door opens. Marco and Reggie turned to the front door as soon as they heard the locks activate. They look toward the new door that had opened, trying to figure out what was going on.

"What's going on?" Reggie demanded as he moved to a natural defensive stance.

"If you will just follow me, please. The boss wants to meet with you." Jennifer said waving for the men to follow her.

They waited for a heartbeat before they moved, entering a long corridor with typical office white walls and gray carpet. The walls were lined with pictures framed in gold or silver, of drivers and their tractors. It looked as if it was the companies wall of fame. They walked down the hall looking at each picture. When they passed a picture of a red Peterbilt with tinted black windows, chrome smoke stack, grill, and rims. Though they loved the look of the truck and thought it was a beautiful piece of machinery, it was the team drivers that caught their eyes.

Next to the truck was a tall, well-built tan man with deep green eyes and the biggest smile on his face, like he had just won an award. Right next to him was a tall smooth cocoa brown woman with light hazel eyes that seem to pierce through you even in the picture.

“Aren’t these the people from that warehouse fiasco?” Marco asked.

“Yeah, but this looks like it was taking a while back. They look younger,” Reggie said examining the picture.

“Their names are Janis 'Ice Queen' Richardson and Pauli 'Nighthawk' Myers,” Marco read out loud, “those are pretty cool handles.”

They let their eyes wander over the picture for a little while before they turn to see Jennifer standing behind them, with her hands over her chest, and her eyebrows low, tapping her foot.

“Gentlemen, can you follow me please?”

She gestured toward the door that she was standing in front of, Reggie and Marco looked at each other before moving. They got to the doorway and peek into the room before they entered a huge office space with windows that brought in so much natural light, there was no need for a lamp. There was a large dark wood double bookcase, full of books in the back with two white leather lounging chairs and a coffee table in front of it.

In the middle of the room was a dark metal and glass desk, with a medium built older man with salt and pepper neatly trimmed hair. He wore a very well-tailored dark blue suit with a black button-down shirt with silver JBP cufflinks. He sat behind his desk looking at the increasingly confused looks on Reggie and Marco’s face, smiling the whole time.

“Reggie and Marco Smith, welcome gentlemen, have a seat. We have been expecting you,” He said, “My name is James Brown Pak, I am the terminal leader.”

“Really?” Marco said through a cracked smile, “Jennifer looked real surprise when she saw us.”

“I wasn’t surprised at your presence, I was surprised at your size,” Jennifer shot back, “You both are a lot smaller than what I expected. From the way Nighthawk explained how you helped him, I was expecting bigger guys. Not super thin men who looked like if the wind blew too hard they would be carried off to the land of Oz.”

“Okay Jennifer,” James said chuckling, “You can go.”

“I’m sorry sir, but how long has your company been around?” Reggie started, “I’ve done research and I have found very little information about this place. I've asked some friends and no one has heard of you. The only person that had heard of you said you didn’t exist. So, explain to us, what is going on.”

Marco stood there saying nothing, he could feel the aggressive energy flowing off Reggie since Jennifer had called them tiny. He glanced back and forth between James and Reggie. Reggie's eyebrows got low and his eyes became serious and hard. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face. Marco was sure the terminal leader's smile would fade once he had heard the forceful tone of Reggie's voice, but James kept the same happy calmness he had projected the entire time.

“So, you did your research?”

“Yes, and I came up with nothing.”

“Did you do some research?” James said looking at Marco.

“Nope. Not at all sir,” Marco said with unbelievable confidence, “I didn’t need to, everything seemed OK to me.”

“Really!” Reggie interrupted, “You have got to be kidding me? We almost saw a guy murdered and you don’t have a problem? I want to know what type of freight they are hauling that gets people’s ass beat. So again, I ask, who the hell are you?”

“We are 18-wheeler transport,” James said trying not to laugh.

“I get that, but what are you? What type of company is this?”

“Now, that’s a better question. We are an underground transportation agency of the federal government. We track and hunt down the commercial drivers that work with criminals.” James pauses a second to see if they had something to say. “As truck drivers, we can move day and night, without much of a fuss. So, they use us the get in and out of places undetected.”

“Come on, now. You really expect me to believe this is a government agency? That the man and woman we help are federal agents?” Reggie laughed.

“You mean Nighthawk and Ice Queen,” James said.

“So, we have walked into the X-Men headquarters and your Doctor Freaking X? Come on, Marco let's go. This is stupid. There is no way he is telling us the truth,” Reggie said turning to leave, only to notice that Marco hadn’t moved. He turned and gave him a hard look like he was trying to Jedi mind trick him into leaving. Once he realized that Marco really wasn’t moving, he glared.

“Dude, what are you doing? Let's go! This is obviously a con.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

“Reggie, remember all the questions we had that night, he just answered them all by telling us they are feds.” Marco beamed, "and you know I have always wanted to be a fed. It feels right Reggie."

“You have to be shitting me, man. Please tell me you don’t believe this nonsense,” Reggie pleaded, "Are you serious?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Marco said more serious than Reggie had ever seen him.

“We are not here to live out your little boy dreams!” Reggie yelled. “You really believe this is a federal secret agency?”

“If I may interject for a second,” James said quickly.

“What?” Reggie yelled but calmed himself quickly once he saw the eyebrows raise and a small sneer come across James's face that was quickly replaced with a smile, “I'm sorry sir, but this is a bit unbelievable. A trucker federal agency. That's a little hard to believe.”

“I completely understand,” James said smiling, “If you guys come sit over here I can explain everything.”

James walked over to the bookcase and pointed to the lounge chair in front of him. They slowly walked over and sat in the chairs, and once they were seated, James pushed a button on the side of the bookcase and the room disappeared. They were going down a large shaft, sitting in the seat they were directed to sit in. Reggie tried to stand but repeatedly fell, while Marco sat there, not moving in amazement.

"You see fellas, we needed to start the agency that didn't seem like one. We needed people who could move through the states without being noticed or could be mistaken as a federal agent, and truck drivers fit the bill."

James finishes his statement just as they reached the bottom. A door opens, Reggie's mouth drops and Marco almost squeals at what they see. They were now at the entrance of an underground truck yard. There were 10 trucks and 10 trailers on their left. They stood there and watch a man pre-trip his nice dark blue Kenworth with charcoal black smokestacks, with a chrome grill, and white wall tires, everything looked normal. He was doing a simple check on his truck until he checked the tires and two sharp spinning blades burst through the red hub the rim. From inside the cab, he flipped a button to check his head lights and a gun barrel came out of each light. Their mouths dropped as they took a step further into the room.

Once they entered, they saw that it was more than just a truck yard, it was a full out training center. As they moved further into the room, they saw a woman on their right practicing several forms of martial arts on a dummy. She uses a tire thumper to strike her stationary opponent. The younger woman hit it with insane precision but with every strike, she pushed a button and two electrodes sprang out, sending a wave of high voltage shocks through the dummy. She looked over and saw them watching. She smiled, blew them a kiss and waved.

“Reggie and Marco,” James said to bring their attention back to him, “In the time I have met with you, I have seen how you to operate together. You two complement each other. Reggie, you are a calculating person and Marco is all feeling. You balance each other out. Even when you helped my team, Reggie watched and waited, while Marco flew into action, but both of you helped. And from what Nighthawk says you guys are damn good fighters. I would like to offer you a job. Do you think you would be a good fit?”

Reggie and Marco looked at each other. Marco could see the indecision in Reggie's eyes.

“Come on man, we have got to do this,” Marco said.

“Why?”

“Look around, Reggie. We are standing in an underground truck yard with a full-out combat training center. Where the hell else would we get to drive and fight bad guys? We would be like modern-day cowboys," Marco gushed.

“You sound like a ten-year-old. I want to fight bad guys,” Reggie says mocking Marco’s enthusiasm.

“Stop being a dick and look around, we can help people. We could do this, we would be amazing at this. You always said Sherlock ain't got shit on you,” Marco laughed, “So, prove it.”

“Well, guys,” James asked, “What do you say?”

“Yes,” Marco said.

“Fine, I'll do it,” Reggie said rolling his eyes at the Kool-Aid smile Marco wore, “but as soon as I don’t agree with something, I will leave.”

“Excellent, Let the training begin.”