The fire ripped through the Sky Wolf Inc. Labs during the early hours of the day, as though the rising sun had reached out to caress the large building and had lingered too long. The smoke pouring out of the structure was pitch black and almost certainly noxious.

Early reports regarding the fire had already began to leak into the news cycle, and the electronic iCuff on Tamera's forearm beeped to signify that the latest casts were ready for viewing. She quickly scrubbed through the few stories to ensure nothing vital was being disseminated and let out a relieved sigh when she found nothing untoward in the reporting. Switching to the secure channel, she listened in on the casts that only very few would ever have the authority to hear.

"The Daglain 2nd wave attempted to upload a vid to the network claiming responsibility for the attack. The message reads 'The Daglain 2nd Wave is not an organizaton for terror, but for liberation.' The publishing has been prevented by the Department of Global Web Services, all systems are secure."

That the voice had sounded so casual had sat uneasily with Tamera, and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if this was the first attack by the "Dags," as the Dept had taken to calling them. In fact, the Daglain 2nd wave had been one of the most successful terrorist organizations in modern times, with actions taken in multiple regions. They'd even developed a sort of underground cult following. She'd have to investigate where they were getting their "news".

She looked down at her iCuff and sighed. What had been just a morning walk had turned into work, yet again. She would only have a little free time once she got back home, and then she would have to rush off to the Department.

Her path back to her room skirted the old industrial park that once brimmed with factory workers, and the dilapidated buildings had a way of making her skin crawl. Four acres of broken down buildings stood as testament to the economic ruin that had plagued the country.

Tamera could not get out a scream when hands shot out from the mouth of the alley to her right and pulled her into the shadows. Struggling against her assailant's grip, she started to yell but a hand clamped down over her mouth. Tamera couldn't admit it to herself yet, but she'd been kidnapped and she was terrified. A bag draped over her head dimmed her vision and chilled her blood.

She and her captors walked for only a little while when she was pushed down onto a chair. The bag came off of her head in one smooth motion and she found herself surrounded by men.

"Daglain 2nd Wave," she panted, relishing the fresher air after having suffered that stinky bag.

She had made her statement sound confident, almost diffident, and she hoped that the steadiness in her voice belied the rising tide of anxiety that was ebbing and flowing up her throat. There was nothing worse than giving in to the enemy.

"That's my girl, always unimpressed and ready to bite."

The voice had come from behind her, a voice from the past that she had thought long dead and gone.

"Raga?"

She had almost forgotten the name, it had been so long.

"One and the same, big sis," Raga stepped out from behind her, a large grin spread across his sun kissed face.

"But how... you're dead. You died," she stammered.

"I know, that was a pretty good article too, except for the whole 'terrorist' angle. But I assume that wasn't your call..." he looked down at her silently.

She didn't know where to start. The brother that she thought was a dead terrorist was standing before her, most certainly alive.

"I was just doing..." she began but was cut off.

"Your job... I know, I know." He smiled sadly.

Raga and Tamera spent some time reconnecting, like lost siblings tend to do. She learned that her brother had not died that day three years ago but had, in fact, faked his death to escape surveillance. Since then, he had been working with Daglain outfits across the region in trying to sabotage the information systems of the Department of Global Web Services. He said the goal was simply to let the truth be free and accessible to any and everyone. A dangerous goal indeed when the Department owned the news.

Tamera told him how she had joined the Department shortly after his death, that his betrayal had spurred her patriotism and desire to serve, if only to clean the family name. She started to cry as the realization of what she'd been doing began to dawn on her. Raga simply put his arm around her, reassuring her that it was okay. There was still good work to be done, he reminded her.

When Tamera left the warehouse, she saw the entire world in different tones, as though she had just left a black and white reality for this one full of vibrancy and color. She had believed in the Department. After all, it had their best interests in mind and only sought to separate the fake from the real news. The conversation with Raga would not leave her so she replayed it over and over again in her mind. He was alive! But he had also asked something of her.

Halfway to the office and she still wasn't sure what to think, let alone do. She was thrilled to have Raga back from the dead but she also had responsibilities to the Department, and it didn't take kindly to dereliction of duty or worse, betrayal. Someone had to do the job, and if she didn't want it there were a host of ladder-climbers who'd be ecstatic to show their loyalty to the Department. What to do?

Too quickly the structure that housed the offices of the Department of Global Web Services loomed over her. She was out of time and no closer to a decision about what Raga had asked of her. Tamera pushed open the smooth glass doors and stepped inside.

At her desk she found a queue of news reports waiting to be analyzed and corrected before publication. Before, she would perfunctorily perform her responsibilities but now she felt deceitful and as though she could be caught any moment thinking the way she was thinking. She could be fired, and worse, for the thoughts that crossed her mind this day.

The report that was now sitting before her was the proposal article for this morning's fire. She stared at it for a long time. It stated that a transformer malfunction had been the cause of the inferno. It went on to detail the three lives lost to the fireteam that suppressed the blaze and how honors would be held for them in the city square.

Tamera pulled her keyboard close and tapped several times, deleting the final sentence of the article. Her fingers trembled and she hesitated several times before resting her hands on the desk. Once she did this, had let this story slip, there was no telling what would happen. An incident like this, three years ago, led to riots and bloodshed on a level that was nauseating. She didn't want to help bring about another round of that kind of horror, but she also could no longer sit at this desk and work for the people who had lied about her brother. The Daglain 2nd Wave was a sorry group of rebels fighting a vast empire, but they were fighting for all of us. The Department was fighting for the Department and the State and would lie, cheat and rework any news that didn't align with their agenda. She chewed her bottom lip as her fingers began to dance over the keyboard. She wasn't sure what would happen, but she knew she was now a part of some big change.

"The Daglain 2nd Wave is not a terrorist organization..."

Here goes nothing, she thought as she hit publish

---

---

Imagery in this post was sourced from pixabay or wikimedia

This submission is not eligible to compete in the community voting round and is being submitted in support of the Steemit Story Slam.

Entries are due this Friday the 13th for the 1st Steemit Story Slam Challenge?!?

The 11th Poetry Slam Challenge is happening now and ending on Friday! What's your message in a bottle?