Biohazard's Catastrophe: Death's Hallway

Admissions

The Baihaqi Armed Corps Headquarters

Bogor City, West Java

March 14, 2021

The ample waiting room was filled with dozens of people in plain dark green tactical uniforms of various ages. On average, those who were there were between 20-27 years old. The anxiety on their faces sometimes goes away and comes up again. Just because the air from the air conditioning, the situation is a little comfortable. Their seats were divided into two, left and right. Separated access way out and in from the main door.

In the front row of the seats on the left was a slightly oval-faced young man with a half-confident look. The appearance is just as neat as the others with pomade-polished plump hair making it look shiny. His palms were clutching each other as if grasping something. While waiting for his name to be called, this young man occasionally circulated a glance around him. Just to watch people passing by or just chat wherever they stop. Already since seven o'clock in the morning, the place has begun to be crowded by the activities of those who served there.

To start a chat with the person next door just made him feel uneasy. He is not the kind of person who gets along quickly with others. Even to begin the introduction he hardly ever did. As a result, he was just silent like a mute person, while the people around him waited for a call by chatting even though they did not know each other. Only the motivational reading book that was in his hands became friends.

That day will be a historic day for him, where he will be accepted to serve in the most respected private military company in Indonesia and change his standard of living for the better. The young man came from a poor family, determined to end it. Ambition that has long had since two years ago even without ever any promising realization. In this year, he can only make it happen after going through all the disagree and disagree struggles of those closest to him.

However life must change, though it must be in an unimaginable way, the belief it has always held.

“Number 22 on behalf of Ardana Putra! Again, number 22 on behalf of Ardana Putra!”

The soft but firm voice typical of women from the teller through the loudspeaker mentioned the name of the young man. The one who looked over was not only the owner of the name but also everyone else. The difference is, they wander around looking for who the figure in question.

Quickly, the young man with the name stood up and approached the information table which was ten meters away from the row of waiting room chairs. His footsteps were made a little firm and stable to give the impression that he was a young man who was quite confident, if not to say half-confident.

“Good morning, Ma'am? I am Ardana Putra, queue number 22.” he said while handing a queue card with a red color.

A straight-haired young woman with the same uniform behind the handing over table and information served her graciously. He stared while smiling at Ardana. Such treatment makes Ardana feel not like she is preparing to start serving in a private military company. The look of the teller's eyes was then fixed on the LED monitor screen of a computer while his fingers typed something.

“Ardana Putra.., South Jakarta,” hiss the female teller.

Inadvertently Ardana's attention was on the nametag in the right pocket of the teller's uniform. His forehead creased as he spelled the name in his heart.

Mira Dirgantari Jasmine.

“Mas Ardana, all administrative data and selection reports state that Mas can be served from the next three days. Congratulations, yes!”

Ardana who realized his ridiculousness hurriedly took out her green card.

“Eh? Ma—maaf. Just a little awkward and do not believe that I can start on duty later,” he said a little clumsy.

“This is just taken to the recruitment section on the LG floor. Later Mas can meet directly with Lieutenant Denis there. Weapon retrieval is also allowed.” Mira gave a light blue piece of paper to Ardana, as if not hearing the young man's apology.

Ardana. “Alright then, thank you very much. Good morning!” his reply.

“Thank you again, happy duty!” reply Mira.

Turning her back, Ardana closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again.

“Aduh... why use your hands on him everything, anyway? Good thing it didn't get stamped as a rude person!” he muttered as he continued to step without turning his head again towards the information section.

While she began to move away to the place she had been told, Mira had noticed. While shaking slowly and smiling, he returned to take care of the administrative data of the other hostess.

* * * * *

“*Name as Ardana Putra. This child comes from a lower middle class family who lives in Jagakarsa, South Jakarta. His education was only graduated from High School and had become a job worker. Surprisingly enough, from his mediocre appearance it turns out that he holds great potential and passion to fight. At first glance he looked like a person who joined in order to earn a lot of money. But when her tone sounded honest wanting to change her life for the better during the interview session, I realized something. This child does not struggle solely to improve his financial self, but wants to lift the family life and boast of the people closest to him. True said our seniors, your life will be better when the people who fill your day are also happy when you are happy.

He's the only one I can recommend to you. Me and the other higher-ups have seen the training results of the new recruits and so far Ardana is one of the superior ones. The new members who are equal to this child have been spread throughout Indonesia for their first assignments. You said you wanted a person whose ability was similar to Faizar Sudiarta, right? I gave him to do the job. He will come to you*.”

The middle-aged man in a dark green jungle hat was sitting in the corner of a twenty-four-hour cafe located in the Braga area, Bandung City. The hour hand has shown at one in the morning and there are only three visitors including himself who are still loyal to a warm cup of coffee. His appearance that was no different from other civilians made him seem like a common old man. Calm down and not doing much energetic stuff. Although visible physical eyes indicate he remains excellent in any circumstances.

The words of his colleague in Jakarta delivered by phone this afternoon continued to ring in his ear. The smoke from inside the cup that contained the black coffee he ordered a while ago began to thin as he continued to wrestle with the considerations in his mind. Next to him was a small plate with a snack of cassava chips wrapped in spices sow balado that had not been eaten by him much. His eyes glanced lazily at the small meal in front of him. Between hunger and not his hand still scooped a pinch of crumpled chips first then put in his mouth.

“Good. Just send the new kid you told me that for later tasks,” his hiss and then sip coffee.

* * * * *