River Stone

"Hello?" Steven asked, his voice coming out gravely from sleep when he picked up the phone.

"Lieutenant Blackwood!" his commanders voice barked over the line.

Steven rolled out of bed and came to his feet in a perfect parade rest, an automatic reaction to the voice of authority. He would have saluted, but there was no one in the room to salute. "Yes Sir," Steven snapped out. "What are your orders sir?" his words came out firm and smooth, like a rock that had been worn flawless by an eternities dance with the tides of a river.

"Get your gear; wheels up in thirty minutes. Notify the others," David ordered before hanging up on his subordinate officer.

"Yes Sir," Steve said, though it made no difference. Steve ran across the hall to their team barracks and flipped on the light. The others made noises of protest and covered their faces.

"All of you. Get ready to go, we have a hot one and no time for complaints," he laced his words with an edge of steel, daring anyone to argue with him. "Wheels up in thirty, so you have fifteen to be ready and on your way to the hanger. Now Move!" Steve commanded.

Steve ran back to his room and was ready in no more than eight minutes. After the allotted time he ran back to the team room where there was organized chaos everywhere.

"Time to go gentlemen," Steve said, his tone brooking no argument, "let's go." He lead the way down the corridor and a swift jog towards the jet hanger.