DAY 01

B.E.A.R. LABORATORIES

SOUTH ENTRANCE: GATE 9

Veronica parks her car in the parking lot just outside the main gate. Her fingers drum anxiously on the steering wheel as she glances at the clock on her dash: 7:48. Early. This day has been multiple weeks in coming. She was sent multiple emails with security paperwork that needed to be filled out that took many days to process, as it always does when dealing with the government.

She checks her makeup and hair in the small mirror on the visor, squinting her eyes as they narrow on a bit of smudged eyeliner. She fixes the blemish before fluffing her semi-curly red hair. It rains heavily outside and already the thick humidity has started to weigh down her curls. She had looked almost perfect when she left the house this morning: makeup light but still enough to look professional, hair styled to look tame, and attire fit for a high-class interview, which is exactly what she's doing. The long drive, being over an hour, has unfortunately dampened her appearance, both metaphorically and physically.

Nerves make her posture rigid as she waits patiently for Dr. Anderson to arrive. She sips tentatively on her coffee to try to ease the growing butterflies in her stomach, though it is of no great help. The warmth of the mug is, however, a pleasant distraction. Soon enough--all too soon, really--a silver sedan pulls in next to her. She immediately notices the driver as Dr. Anderson and she smiles politely at him through the window.

Veronica reluctantly places her mug back into the cupholder as she mentally prepares herself for the coming day. Act professional. Don't speak out of turn. Answer truthfully. Don't make a fool of yourself, she mentally coaches.

She exits her own car before entering Dr. Anderson's. They exchange pleasantries and make idle small talk as they approach the guarded security gate. Veronica rides with growing anticipation swirling in her chest, feeling more than a little out of place as the car stops in front of a tall chain-link fence with barbed wire across the top. A security officer dressed in military BDUs gestures for Dr. Anderson to lower the window, to which he obliges.

"Name and I.D.?" He asks in a deep baritone.

"Dr. James Anderson," he answers swiftly and without hesitation, handing over his driver's license and military clearance badge, one she notices does not carry the same characteristics of the usual CAC card.

Veronica swallows thickly when the officer's dark, hooded eyes narrow on her. "And your passenger?" He asks.

Dr. Anderson glances briefly at Veronica before replying. "She is a new recruit for the Project."

The man raises a thick brow before nodding slowly, hesitantly. "Very well." He raises an arm in gesture to another officer in an enclosed booth behind him. The gate immediately begins to open and Dr. Anderson drives forward.

The road is narrow and winding as it snakes deeper into the Virginia mountains. Trees loom overhead and rain pours down continuously from the sky as their destination does not yet come into view. Various emotions swirl in Veronica's mind, none of them related to the interview, however. Caution and intimidation are only two of the emotions she feels as they amount more and more into an overwhelming sense of trepidation.

She steels herself as the infamous B.E.A.R Laboratories comes into view. The car goes through another security checkpoint before arriving to a large, mostly full parking lot. The two exit the vehicle and Veronica follows as Dr. Anderson leads the way to a small, inconspicuous grey building.

"Dr. Anderson--"

"Just follow me," Dr. Anderson interjects, voice firm without room for further discussion. Veronica seals her lips, though reluctantly. The more clandestine the circumstances become without any answers, the more Veronica begins to fear for her safety.

They enter the service-station sized building. The first thing Veronica notices, is that this building is far too small to house the number of people who should be inside as indicated by the full parking lot only meters away.

The building contains only a desk with a man in uniform behind it and a single elevator flanked by armed guards. Veronica enters cautiously behind her old professor, the young woman feeling far too young and far too ignorant to be in a place such as this. Dr. Anderson leads her to the desk where the man behind it scans her appearance suspiciously, though whatever thoughts arise, he does not voice them.

"Morning, Lieutenant Creeks. This is Veronica Odair, the new recruit you should have been informed of. Did you receive the waivers sent from HR?"

The man, Lieutenant Creeks, nods. He is young, not much older than Veronica herself. His hair is blond and trimmed short, his complexion fair and youthful though his gaze is stern and vigilant. He says nothing, retrieving a folder from somewhere behind the counter. As he situates the necessary documents, Dr. Anderson turns to the worrisome young woman.

"These are just for security purposes. The first to log your arrival, the second is a security contract; you will be sworn into secrecy, that you will not speak of the things you see here to anyone and you will bring no recording or photographing devices into the premises. Last is a safety waiver; you will agree not to press charges for any physical harm that may befall you while in the facility."

Veronica swallows thickly. "Physical harm?" She asks, surprised that her voice didn't shake.

"Nothing to worry about," he dismisses. "It is only a legality."

"Have others been hurt here?" Veronica can't help but ask.

The doctor does not initially respond, his eyes glancing to Creeks before returning to hers. "As I said: You have no need to worry."

Veronica can tell there is something he kept hidden from her--the truth, no doubt--but what truth was he hiding? Was it that she could be harmed, or was he hiding the identity of those who were? Or better yet, what was dangerous?

The papers were arranged before her, and Veronica scanned over them to find they were essentially what the professor had informed her of. As she read them, she found it harder and harder to keep the pen in her hand from shaking. Was this a good idea? The pay for this will no doubt be incredibly good, but is it worth the fear of binding secrecy to the government? Veronica absently wondered what branch of the government this facility belonged to. It is certainly far from the CID she was expecting to work for when she first began college.

"Is there something wrong?" The doctor asks when Veronica takes a little too long to sign.

"I... No, I'm fine," Veronica says as she makes her decision. Beyond the fear and the anxiety of her ignorance over the inner workings of her new employers, Veronica knew the only way to find clarity was to press on. If Veronica wants answers, then answers she will get.

After all is signed and filed away, the two are led to the single elevator. Veronica's heels click as she steps between the guards, the pitch of the sound shifting as she boards the lift. The number of floors are only 1-3, 1 being the current floor. Dr. Anderson keys in a code before pressing the button for 3.

"Each employee has their own access code," Dr. Anderson informs. "The code is specific to the person and each individual's clearance level."

"Will I have one?" she asks. "That is, if I am hired."

"Yes," he replies. "But I don't know what you will have clearance to."

"Well, how high is your clearance?"

"The highest."

The elevator doors open, Veronica and the professor stepping out. This is what she was expecting.

The room is large and open, people of all sorts moving about the room, some slowly, others with long, quick strides. The very center is full of cubicles with open aisles making an X in the center and around the perimeter. Along the sides of the square room are various offices, conference rooms and server rooms.

Veronica hastily scurries after Dr. Anderson as he strides quickly past the cubicles and down a hallway. He pays the other employees no mind and instead keeps his gaze ahead, not even turning to glance at Veronica.

They arrive at another elevator at the end of the hallway, one once again flanked by guards. He keys in his code before entering, typing in his code once more on the keypad inside the elevator. The number of floors on this lift is only one: 4.

"Why use codes instead of badges or CAC cards?" Veronica asks.

"Cards can be stolen, a memorized number cannot," is his simple reply. Veronica finds it is a good one.

This floor is much quieter, fully stocked laboratories with top of the line equipment being what occupies the first few rooms. Numerous men and women in lab coats work idly at their designated stations, none bothering the other and speaking kept is at a minimal.

Dr. Anderson leads her down a small corridor, one not often used, it seems. At the end lies another guarded elevator, though he guides them into a room long before they reach it.

Inside what appears to be a conference room, Veronica is offered a chair at the end of a long table, the opposite end of which seats three other individuals: a woman who seems to be in her late forties, greying blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, a shorter man with a short beard who seems to be a little older than the woman, and finally a tall, thin man. The last occupant she observes, the tall man, is vaguely threatening to Veronica, though she can't tell why. He regards her with piercing grey eyes behind thin wire-framed glasses, his gaze severe, if not a little condescending.

"Miss Odair, this is Dr. Conner," her professor says, introducing the woman. Dr. Conner nods stiffly, her lips pursed. "Dr. Peterson," he introduces the smaller man, who mutters a small Hello. "And Head Scientist, Dr. Vanderwall."

Dr. Anderson seats himself, Veronica threading her fingers together on the tabletop. "Pleasure to, uh, meet you all," Veronica mumbles insecurely though she tries to hide it.

"Tell us why you are here," Dr. Vanderwall speaks up, his voice light, though deep and slightly commanding.

"I was invited by Dr. Anderson, sir. I am a former student of his," Veronica replies, her voice steady and more sure of itself.

"Yes, yes. He has informed us of your collegiate accomplishments," the doctor murmurs. "Has he told you what we do here?"

"No, he hasn't," Veronica responds hastily, almost a little too excited. Perhaps now she will finally get some answers to her many questions.

"Good. There is no need for you to know at the current moment."

"I'm sorry?" She questions. "I don't think I understand. I thought I was being offered a position."

"Oh, you are," Dr. Conner speaks up. "But for the time being, you will be like all the other employees who work here. This Project is highly classified and the exposure of its nature is something we cannot afford."

"Then what am I to do?" She asks. "I don't understand how I can be of any use to you if you don't tell me whatever it is I am working on."

"The rules are simple, Ms. Odair," Dr. Vanderwall says. "You do what we tell you and you don't ask questions. You do not have to understand to do your job."

Veronica ponders their words before asking yet another question. "Is the Project dangerous?"

"Not if you do as we say."