/Searching for asset Sameen Shaw
/Searching for GPS
/GPS lock failed
/Searching for MAC addresses
/ Search failed
/Facial recognition: scanning all sources
/Facial recognition failed
/Cannot locate asset Sameen Shaw
The worst thing about resurrection was the fact that during the time it took the ethereal essence that passed for her soul to do whatever it did after freed from its mortal coil, she was actually dead. That meant that when she returned to life, hours or days later, it was with whatever injuries it carried, all as fresh as the day of her death.
"Sonofafuckingbitch," the being known in the twenty-first century primarily as Sameen Shaw wheezed as breath filled her lungs for the first time in days and tried to curl into a ball. It was lost as quickly as her body quickly began registering her injuries, two shots to the gut and a coup de grâce, accompanied by a myriad constellation of bruises that seemed to cover her from head to toe.
"Tell the boys to be easier on the merchandise next time," she growled when she could get enough breath to do so. The first thing she noticed when she could perceive past the pain was that it was chilly and all four limbs were restrained, shackles binding her wrists and ankles to reinforced points on the frame of her bed.
The second worst thing was the disorientation. Shaw couldn't say just how old she was, but vague memories, dreams almost, of what she was fairly certain was the middle of the Bronze Age of Man made her at least three thousand years old and all of it got downloaded to her brain at once.
She opened her eyes with her second breath, looking around and hoping for something that would anchor her timeline. There wasn't unfortunately, her immediate environment consisting of her bed, monitoring equipment and surgical-green sheets hanging from metal poles hemming her in with an elderly man, somewhere in his mid-sixties, if Shaw had to hazard a guess. His hair was thick and grey, face weathered and lined and wore what was probably supposed to be a grandfatherly smile, but just made Shaw's hackles rise.
"I am sorry, but I did not understand what you said," the man said in a cultured, European accent.
Third worst thing; having people talk to her as soon as she woke up. Living as long as she had, Shaw was something of an omniglot which made it hard to tell what someone was speaking before she got her memories sorted. Until she could anchor her timeline, she was as likely to speak in dead tongues as anything spoken in the present if she didn't pay attention, which is almost certainly what she had just done.
Shaw had long since learned to hold her tongue until she was absolutely certain of where and when she was after resurrecting, so when it became clear that she was not going to say any more to the man her instincts were telling was an enemy spoke again.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. Shaw and quite a remarkable return it was. One that borders on the miraculous, if one were so inclined to believe in that sort of thing."
Shaw groaned. It was always annoying when someone saw her resurrect for the first time and judging from his words, Greer, (the name snapping into place, as well as those of his employer and associates) looking like he was going to be the most annoying kind of hostile witness; the kind that simply wanted to understand.
'Most recent death, most recent death,' Shaw thought to herself, closing her eyes in concentration. 'There, the Stock Exchange. January… 2015.' she thought to herself. Two bullets to her abdomen, medium range, one to the forehead, point blank, matching up with the two points of pain in her abdomen and the spike in her skull. 'Well, this is going to be fun.'
"Crazy things happen all the time," Shaw tried, pretty sure that Greer was speaking English.
"Yes, but how often does a woman rise from the dead? Martine killed you, Miss Shaw, and yet here you are, breathing before me. May we dispense with the lies and both acknowledge that you are a being capable of cheating death itself? I can show you video of your death, if you would like, and what happened immediately thereafter" Greer offered. "And I feel I must ask, is there another name you would prefer to be called by?"
The being known as Shaw sighed, then groaned when the movement pulled on her wounds. "I've had a lot of names over my lifetime; Sameen Shaw is as good a name as any."
"Very well, Ms. Shaw. May I assume that this is not the first time you are in this situation?"
"Listen, I've been around for a really long time, so yeah, this is not the first time I've been captured by an enemy who knows my secret. You mind cutting to the chase so I can get back to my nap?"
Greer smiled one of those knowing smiles that Shaw had to admit he did rather well. "Unfortunately, Samaritan has some rather pressing questions It wants to ask you. I don't suppose you would save us all the time and effort and simply tell me where your friends are?"
Shaw shook her head. "See, now it's stuff like that that makes me question your intelligence, Mr. Greer. You should know enough about me to know I would never sell you my allies to you.
Greer sighed. "If you will not answer our questions voluntarily, then I have little choice but recommend you for more… vigorous interrogation. We really need to know where your friends are hiding, Miss Shaw and we will find out, one way or another. How much pain it involves is up to you."
Shaw rolled her eyes. "First of all, we both know that torture rarely leads to honest answers and second, we both agree that I am very old, so torture wouldn't work on me in any case. Third, the last time that it did work on me, the Black Death was depopulating Europe."
"Well, we won't know unless we try, won't we?" Greer rose to his feet, straightening his suit and giving her an apologetic look. "For what it's worth, I do believe that you could become an invaluable asset, should you choose."
"Trust me, never gonna happen. You think you are doing something revolutionary here, that you are going to change the world. Make it better maybe, I don't really know or care. I'm telling you you aren't. Seen a hundred tyrants, seen them all."
"That very well may have been the point up until now. Samaritan is something different, something new. You will come to see that eventually, and when you do, you will join." Greer gave her a short nod, and stepped through the curtains.
Shaw briefly considered slipping her bonds and taking Greer right then but there were too many unknowns, not the least of which was what her prison was like beyond the immediate five feet. No she would bide her time, she decided and wait until she could make good on her escape.
She wasn't left alone long, a white coat entering and withdrawing a syringe. He said nothing as he emptied the approximately ten milligrams of a clear liquid into her IV, sleep following in seconds.
