Ficlets

Baufer flipped through the final pages of the report one last time before turning back to the first page and gazing at the portrait that took up a fourth of the page. To the right of the picture, in bold writing was the name: Gordon Graves

“You’re sure this is the right person?” ... not so much to confirm the choice as forcing himself to change his mind about what he was about to issue as a direct high command. “You do realize you’re asking me to destroy a friend’s life and career, right?”

Baufer looked up at the strange man standing before him clad in dark Order robes. He had a thin gold collar fixed around his neck that Baufer could barely see through a break in the hood.

The man leaned closer to Baufer and said as if reminding him, “For the greater good, Baufer.” He then turned and vanished.

Baufer slammed the command folder shut and stared at the title: OR-CLE S7-OP IN SECTOR 37

He took a deep breath, whispered, “Forgive me my old friend,” and with sweaty fingers, signed the approval.