3. Welcome To Gold.
"I must say, even by your standards, this was some impressive work."
A small smile spread across Luis' face as he accepted the compliment. He was back on CHERUB campus, sitting in the Chairwoman's office, relaxing back into one of the plush chairs that were situated across from the large oak desk that dominated the spacious room.
Luis and Rafael had managed to make it to Spanish waters where they and the two chasing boats were met by three Spanish Navy fast attack craft, fully fitted out for ship-to-ship combat. Finding themselves severely outgunned the two Basque boats surrendered, though only five of the original nine occupants of the vessels were still alive.
After receiving treatment for his gunshot wound back at the military base in Castro Urdiales, Luis and Rafael were flown in a military helicopter to the Spanish capital of Madrid. There they met up with their mission controller Christian Howard and the CNI agent who had posed as their mother for the mission. Together they sat in on a lengthy debrief with CNI and the Spanish military before being allowed to get some well-earned rest. By midday Luis, Rafael and Chris were on a private jet back to London where they hopped onto another helicopter that took them back to CHERUB campus for another debrief, this time with the senior members of CHERUB staff.
As was usual, once the debrief was finished, the Chairwoman liked to have a few words with each agent, privately. Zara Asker was entering her twenty-first year as the head of CHERUB and in that time she had found that the child agents appreciated these individual chats, where she offered her congratulations or sympathies, whichever was appropriate. She also found that as agents matured they appreciated her insight and often an impromptu discussion would develop.
"You'll be pleased to know that the Spanish are in love with you two." Zara smiled, "I've had the head of CNI, the Spanish military's Chief of Staff and the Spanish Prime Minister all on the phone asking me to give you their personal thanks."
"That would explain the mile-wide grin on Rafael's face when he left then," chuckled Luis, a warm smile spreading across his own face.
"It was an incredibly successful mission. You two managed to destroy a vast number of their weapons as well as pass on key information about the updated structure of the main arm of the ETA. With the threat of all-out violence dissipated for now, the Spanish government seem confident they can bring a close to things without too much more blood being spilled."
"Do you think they'll grant the Basques independence? Or are they looking to keep them Spanish?"
"That is a discussion for a different time." This was one of the things that impressed her about Luis; where many agents would be content with collecting the praise handed out to them, he was still interested in the consequences of his actions on a much more involved scale, "But I can keep you updated if I hear anything that develops?"
She doubted that she'd learn anything about the situation any quicker than he would through world news sites and programmes, but it brought a smile to Luis' face.
"I'd like that," he nodded, "I don't think the Basques are wrong to want some sort of independence or recognition, they're just going about it the wrong way."
"So you don't hold any grudges against the Basque people?"
"Why would I?" Luis shrugged, "We were dealing with a radical group. Do you think differently of the Irish in general because of the IRA?"
"I don't think they ever got close to a full-scale mobilisation and arming of their people though."
"I guess. But how many regular Basques do you think would have actually picked up guns?"
"I have no idea. And thankfully we will never find out because of the excellent work you and Rafael carried out. Now, how's your arm?"
"Sore," chuckled Luis, fiddling with the bandage around his upper arm, "Fourteen stitches but the medic said it's not overly deep so it should heal pretty quickly."
"Good to hear." Zara smiled, her eyes betraying the caring behind her words, "There's one more thing I need you to do before you relax too much."
"We elevating another black shirt?" Luis asked, instantly seeing where this was heading.
"We are indeed. Your old basic training partner if I'm not mistaken."
"They finally approved Mel?"
"Her last mission was flawless and the doctor approved her psych evaluation, so she's good to go."
As Luis made to stand up to leave, a loud rumble carried throughout the room, originating from his stomach, causing Zara to raise an eyebrow, "You mind if I grab some food first?"
"I'd say that would be a good idea." The Chairwoman nodded, laughing lightly as she bid him farewell, "She's in room two-oh-seven of The School when you finally get to it."
Luis nodded back and headed out of the room. Following the completion of the Campus Village, the main building that housed the old accommodation block had been renovated and the whole top floor was assigned as the Chairwoman's office. In reality there was much more to it than just an office and Luis now found himself striding down a corridor that ran along one edge of the building.
One side of it was entirely glass and it provided a stunning view out across the rest of the campus. He could make out the lake in the distance that made up a section of the open combat simulation zone and the enormous height obstacle course standing just next to it. There were the helipads just off to the left of where he was looking from, all three empty for the moment; the helicopter that had transported Luis back to campus was long gone.
The pool complex stood just behind these, but his gaze was always drawn from that directly to the firing range and armoury that loomed behind it. Luis had logged some serious hours with every weapon he could get his hands on at the firing range and he knew the place like the back of his hand. Hearing his stomach growl again he tore himself away from the view and quickly made his way down to the end of the corridor, hopping into the elevator and riding it to the ground floor.
The rest of the building consisted of the administration and education sections of campus and he inwardly groaned to himself as he realised how much work he would have to catch up on. He had only been back on campus for a week before embarking on the Basque mission, the Spanish government insistent on its urgency, and he had just come off of a four-month mission before that, so he was sure to have a large backlog of study to catch up on.
Exiting the building he immediately started shivering as the whole place was blanketed in a thin film of snow, the temperature well below freezing and he was stood there in nothing but a pair of jeans and an oversized military t-shirt. His hoody and better fitting t-shirt had been disposed of at the military hospital in Castro Urdiales as they were coated in blood from his arm. Deciding the best way to get warm was to get inside as quickly as possible, Luis took off at a run down the main path towards the Campus Village.
He passed by the old, rundown education block to his right, knowing that Mel would be sitting in room two-oh-seven wondering what in the world had happened. After the main building was renovated to house the campus' teaching needs, the old education block was scheduled for demolition. However, it was saved and now served as another combat simulation zone, teaching agents the art of room-to-room warfare and close-quarter combat, earning the nickname The School.
The campus security building was just across the path from it and he quickened his pace as he rounded it and the junior block off to his left passed by in a blur. He felt a small pang of guilt in his chest as he realised he hadn't seen Stacey yet; he promised he'd see her as soon as he got back from the mission, but he'd have to bend that promise slightly as he was starving.
He spotted the mission preparation building a little way in the distance, a massive construction of curving steel and glass. It was nestled in the corner of campus and the path running around it bent at the same angle as the building, blending it in perfectly. Luis upped his pace again and was in a flat-out sprint as he rounded the curve, bearing down on the Campus Village.
As CHERUB expanded, the number of agents within its ranks swelled, causing a requirement for larger living quarters. Rather than continually add on to the existing accommodation in the main building, it was decided to build another complex on the previously unused land behind the mission preparation building and the chapel. The village itself was a series of ten separate housing blocks, each containing enough rooms for two-hundred agents each.
These were arranged in pairs forming a circular pattern around a central courtyard while a huge catering block dominated one of the six arms that spread off from the centre. Luis raced down the pathway towards the courtyard, snow crunching underneath his feet as he came to a halt at the foot of a giant fountain in the centre of the village.
His breathing was ragged and he put his hands on his knees as he sucked in bitingly cold air. It felt good stretching his legs after hours cooped up inside offices and aircraft and he took a minute to catch his breath again. He was cooling down rapidly now and the freezing temperatures were stinging his exposed arms and face, though it had a nice numbing effect on his wound.
Quickly making his way towards the catering block he passed a number of people making their way from it, having finished their dinner. He exchanged greetings with a few of them, but most just stared as he wandered past. As he pushed the door open and walked inside he was met by a rush of warm air and the smell of food, which instantly set his stomach off again. Noticing a clock on the wall told him it was still peak dinner time, he wandered into the main dining hall and was greeted by a sea of faces and a wall of noise as over half of the agents on campus were chowing down.
Luis couldn't have taken more than three steps into the hall before he heard a familiar voice yell out from the middle of the room.
"REAPER ON DECK!"
As heads turned to both where the shout came from and then back towards the door, almost half of the kids shot up from their seats dotted around the room, standing to attention and saluting. An embarrassed smile broke out onto Luis' face as they all continued standing, a few of them wearing gleaming gold t-shirts marking them out as the same rank as him.
"At ease, morons!" Luis shouted back. He had quickly learned how to deal with this particular joke and he turned to head for the food as he shook his head and chuckled, even though his cheeks flushed red. Piling a plate full of meat and vegetables he strolled over to his normal table, dropping into a spare seat.
"And so he returns."
Luis flashed a warm smile at the welcome, looking around at his friends gathered at the table.
The one who had offered the greeting, and led the military style salute as Luis entered the room, was Malakai Duke, his best and closest friend. He had arrived at CHERUB from Africa a few months after Luis, cycling through the same basic training course as him and rising through the ranks of an agent almost as quickly. He always wore a broad grin, flashing perfectly straight pearly whites and he split his time evenly between normal activities and punishment for various pranks or schemes. Luis had spent more than his fair share of time digging out ditches or on washing up duty with him, but Malakai seemed to live his life from one punishment to another.
"Still in his civvies as well," a feminine voice chuckled.
Lucy Romani twirled her fork as she smiled over at Luis. She had short, dark hair that sat in choppy waves across her head and brilliant green eyes that jumped out at you. She'd been a military brat as a young kid, spending significant time in Italy and also happened to be tall for a girl her age, which she enjoyed as it put her on equal footing with many of the boys.
"Only just finished my debrief," replied Luis, as he loaded up a forkful of food, staring at it longingly "And I'm starving."
"You could have at least put something that fit on," another boy laughed, "Have you seen the state of your t-shirt?"
Damian Fisher was the third boy sat at the table and he was considerably shorter than both Luis and Malakai, though he weighed in heavier than either. Built like the proverbial brick shithouse, he was constantly being warned at how he was taking himself out of consideration for missions because of his muscle. However, the boy from Yorkshire took little notice of the warnings, turning to baggy jumpers and t-shirts as a solution, and could often be found in the campus gym.
"Huh?" Luis mumbled, a mouthful of food. He looked down at his t-shirt, noticing that it was a good three sizes too big for him, "Oh yeah, they got rid of my stuff in Spain because it was covered in blood from where I took a bullet."
"You got shot!?" A squeal erupted from the girl sat directly opposite Luis.
Isabella Ruby was, by all accounts, a stunner – and she knew it. Her flame-red hair fell in perfect coils around her shoulders and she had blue eyes that would make a boy drool from fifty metres away. She'd used her looks on more than a few occasions to get her way, but she could also throw a tantrum for the ages if she didn't get what she wanted, an unfortunate trait she carried over from her privileged upbringing.
"What did you think the bandage was for, Iz?" Malakai laughed, "A paper cut?"
"I don't know," huffed Isabella, her hair bouncing as she did so.
"I didn't get properly shot," explained Luis, trying to play it down, "The AK only clipped the back of my arm."
"You got hit with an AK?" asked Lucy, her eyebrows shooting up, "Surprised that didn't take your arm clean off."
"Lucy, don't say that!" Isabella squeaked again. Lucy chuckled as the red-head squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as if trying to rid herself of a vision of a one-armed Luis.
"Like I said," Luis cut in, carefully pulling the bandage off and exposing a bright red line across the back of his upper arm that was criss-crossed with stitches, "I only got clipped."
Reactions around the table ranged from Isabella turning away from the wound to Damian leaning in for a closer look.
"Sweet," the stocky boy grinned, "That looks so cool."
"Bodycount clocking up the scars like he does kills," laughed Malakai, slapping his best friend on the back.
Luis smiled in appreciation before changing the subject in between mouthfuls of food, "Where's Jamie and Carly at?"
"Carly shipped out on a new mission to London a few weeks ago and J-Dog's still out in South-East Asia somewhere," replied Malakai.
"Still?" Luis exclaimed, "What's that, six months now?"
"Closing in on seven," corrected Lucy, "Last we heard from him he was in Singapore, but he could have moved by now."
"Jamie Okasawa, international playboy," laughed Malakai, "He does get some pretty shit-hot missions."
"And still no Gold," commented Lucy.
"You think he really minds too much about that though?" asked Isabella, "Jamie's never really liked the types of missions Gold would open up."
"Fair point." Malakai nodded, "Dude doesn't even really like the combat sims."
"Yeah, but they'll be elevating someone soon," Damian cut in, "Jaylen aged out a couple of weeks ago when he got back from his mission."
Luis knew he was about to upset his friend, but he would rather he found out from him than in a couple of days time when he saw a new gold shirt wandering about. Of the five people at the table, Damian was the only one that was still a black shirt and it was no secret that he desperately wanted to be elevated. Unfortunately CHERUB kept a cap on the number of agents elevated to the gold shirt. Luis, despite the two girls being older than him, had been elevated first, earning the shirt a little after his thirteenth birthday. Lucy had got hers next, over a full year after Luis, while Isabella and Malakai elevated at the same time a few months later. Damian was desperate for his, but there were very strict protocols about who got elevated and he was repeatedly being passed over.
"Well, Jamie won't be taking his place," Luis announced, staring down at his food as he spoke, "Zara told me that they've got someone sitting in The School waiting for us."
"What!?" Damian shouted, "Who is it!?"
"Melanie Jacobs."
"Your old basic training partner!?" Damian roared, pushing off from the table and firing his chair backwards as he stood up. It clattered into a nearby table as he fumed, "That is such fucking bullshit!" As hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to face the seething boy, he stomped out of the dining hall, booting the door open on the way out.
"Good to see the lad's still passionate," chuckled Malakai, polishing off the last of the food on his plate before spying the leftovers on Damian's, "You think he's coming back for that?"
He didn't wait for an answer as he reached across and snatched the plate, plopping it down on top of his own empty one as Lucy shook her head and sighed, "He'll be in a mood for days now."
"He'll get over it," announced Malakai between mouthfuls of food, waving his fork in the air in a dismissive manner, before turning to Luis, "The more important thing is that since you're the one in the know, Zara put you in charge of elevating her, right?"
"Yup." Luis nodded, chasing the last of his vegetables around the plate, trying to scoop up a few errant bits of sweet corn. He glanced over at Isabella and noticed she was wholly disinterested in the slant the conversation had taken and was staring absent-mindedly out of a window.
"Good," grinned Malakai, "That means The Duke is in, baby! You two coming along as well?"
"I guess there should probably be a couple of girls there as well," nodded Lucy before turning to Isabella, who was still staring out of the window, "Izzy, you there?"
"Huh?" Isabella started as Lucy nudged her in the side, "What?"
"You coming with us?"
"To what?"
"Have you even been listening?" Luis asked, perplexed.
"A bit." Isabella shrugged, "I got bored though. I should probably go now; I just remembered I've got some work I need to do, so have fun with whatever it is you're doing."
With that she got up from the table and strolled out of the dining room, turning more than a few heads as she did so. Malakai and Lucy shared a chuckle with each other while Luis just stared dumbly at the both of them.
"Oh, she's good," the dark-skinned boy nodded.
"Very good," the raven-haired girl agreed.
"What are you guys on about?" Luis asked, still behind on what was happening.
"It's like he's two different people," laughed Lucy as she looked at Malakai, "Two steps ahead on every mission he's on, but one behind when he steps foot on campus."
"What are you on about?" Luis persisted, bewildered.
"You ever get the impression that maybe Isabella doesn't like Melanie too much?" Malakai suggested, emphasising the names.
"Why wouldn't she?" Luis replied, looking between the two remaining people at the table.
"Now that would be telling," grinned Lucy, exchanging a look with Malakai.
"Come on, LuLu," mocked Malakai, slapping Luis on the back as he stood up, "Ha! That works for both of you! Come on, LuLu's, let's go elevate us a new gold shirt."
The end of the first decade of the 21st century was a rough one for the world. As the financial crisis of 2008 hit, economies around the world were plunged into disarray and chaos soon followed as they failed to recover. Some of the worst hit included many of the central countries that made up the European Union and the failure of these economies and the accompanying bailouts that followed plunged an already struggling Eurozone into financial disarray.
As economies failed to recover and the burden of keeping them afloat fell on others, some of the better off countries started pulling out, plunging the rest into full-on panic. A mere five years after the financial crisis peaked and the EU was in tatters as governments backed out of deals and colluded with others, all in an attempt to keep their own economies above water.
Running concurrently with this was the explosion of violence and revolution in the Arab world at the start of the second decade. Within three years former leaders had been forced out of four countries, while civil uprisings occurred in many more. A further six countries would fall to revolution by the end of the decade in what became widely known as The Arab Spring.
This was a nightmare for the USA, as they were still fighting in the Gulf, protecting their investments in Afghanistan and Iraq. As more and more countries in the region were shown to be liberating themselves, the people of the Gulf turned on the Americans, attempting to drive them from their countries. The resulting conflict is now considered the single greatest oversight by a military power since the ill-fated Vietnam War as it effectively bankrupted the leading world superpower by the middle of the second decade.
With the United States now focused on fixing their broken economy and dealing with the fallout from their Gulf War, the world reacted.
Russia made a land-grab for their former Soviet States, reclaiming vast swathes as they met with little resistance. As of the present day, only small regions of the Ukraine, Belarus and Moldova remain free from Russian rule, with fierce fighting occurring in those areas. There is also a tense stand-off occurring along the recently expanded Russian-China borders, both militaries wary of the other. At the same time a Chinese-backed North Korea pounced on South Korea with American attentions turned elsewhere and the region fell under communist rule in a matter of months.
However, the worst affected place was the Central Americas, quickly overtaking Africa as the most violent region on the planet. As the American-funded Mexican war on drugs ran out of money, the country exploded into a full-on warzone. With little now standing in their way, the cartels that formerly controlled Mexico from behind the scenes jumped into full-view. Fighting spread south along the narrow strip of countries that connects the Americas and out-right war was declared between the rival cartels as they fought for control of the region as well as the lucrative supply routes from the south.
And where does CHERUB fit into all of this? As civil wars erupted across Europe, sparked by political unrest in several countries formerly thought secure and the influx of refugees from the east as a result of the Russian land-grab, Britain found itself in a precarious position. They had ridden out the crisis fairly effectively and were now seen as the strongest country in the Eurozone and one of the strongest in the world. This thrust them firmly into the spotlight and the island nation took on the task of piecing the world back together, with undercover children playing a vital role.
However, with increased violence comes increased risk and it was decided by intelligence ministers that many missions that could prove vital had become too much for the child agents to reasonably handle. And so, as the USA crashed into bankruptcy and the Russian advance from the east marched on at the end of the second decade, CHERUB took the decision to begin training their top agents in the art of warfare – kill or be killed.
This new rank – the gold shirt – would be granted to the top 3% of CHERUB agents, although within the boundaries of strict parameters. All agents would now be subject to frequent psychological analysis from the day they stepped foot onto campus in an effort to identify which ones would be best suited to cope with the extra demands. Training exercises for gold shirts would also be much more frequent and their skills would be honed to the highest level.
Despite this, there have been some casualties, although no deaths. Four former agents are currently housed at military institutions suffering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, while two have been left with permanent disfigurement to limbs and one was paralysed from the waist down when an extraction went wrong on his mission.
Still, the British government and the Secret Intelligence Service have deemed the work done by these agents too valuable to suspend the program and as of the cold mid-January of 2027, twenty-nine of a little over a thousand CHERUB agents possess a gold shirt. And one more was about to join their ranks.
Melanie Jacobs had no idea what the fuck was going on.
She had just returned from what, by all accounts, was a highly successful mission infiltrating and neutralising a smuggling ring operating out of France. They were transporting all manner of illegal cargo up from the Mediterranean coast and into what remained of Europe, including the UK, and CHERUB had been tasked with putting a stop to it. In a little under six weeks she had completed the task, crushing the illegal operation.
She'd arrived back from Paris yesterday with her partner, a younger girl, and mission controller to be debriefed and had received high praise on the success of the operation. She'd gone to bed that night feeling content and happy but had woken up to find herself blindfolded and tied to a chair in a room that smelt of burning and cordite.
Whoever had tied her up had done a great job because in the long hours she'd been awake she hadn't managed to loosen any of the binds a single bit. Being blindfolded threw off any idea she had about the passage of time and she had no clue as to where she was. She'd initially consoled herself with the fact that she had fallen asleep on CHERUB campus and that there was no way the whole facility had been overrun. However, she'd shouted herself hoarse and still heard nothing, so doubt was rising quickly, threatening to turn into all out panic.
She was on the edge of losing all hope when faint footsteps started echoing off the walls around her, the noise stinging her ears. A door swung open and the noise deafened her as a number of people clattered into the room. The door crashed close behind her and she heard a thump as something heavy got set down onto the ground, the sloshing sound of water accompanying it.
"Melanie." A feminine voice broke the silence, speaking in French, "You have caused a great many problems for us." She felt the presence of the speaker close in to her, getting so near they were almost touching.
She felt as if she'd taken a vicious punch to the stomach. She had just returned from the south of France after her mission; what if somehow the people she took down had found a way to get to her? But she had gotten back to CHERUB campus, how was this possible?
Another voice started shouting at her, a male one. She didn't understand the language, though it sounded like it might have been Spanish or Portuguese. What she did understand however was the hard slap across the face she received.
"Why did you do this?" A third voice spoke, again in French but with a distinct African dialect.
Shit! She knew that the smugglers had been trafficking up through Africa and then across the Mediterranean and into the south of France. Many of the former French-African colonies still spoke the language, highlighting France as a more attractive destination than a country such as Spain, where the distance to travel across the Mediterranean was much shorter.
Melanie kept quiet, deciding silence was the best cause of action, and then the other man started shouting again. This was what she couldn't figure out: where did he fit into all of this? All of the people she had dealt with on the mission had stuck solely to French. What if the operation was bigger than she thought? She knew that a lot of the South Americas spoke either Spanish or Portuguese, what if they were somehow connected?
Fear was rising inside of her but still she kept quiet and she heard someone pick something up and a single word uttered towards her.
"Puta."
A tiny scream erupted from deep within her as she felt ice-cold water smash into her, flooding over her and for a brief second she was stunned into disorientation, not knowing whether she was still sitting or had been pushed into a river. A half-second later when the water had washed away she realised it had only been a dousing from a bucket and she rushed to regain control of her breathing. The blindfold she had around her was now soaked and it stung her eyes as it attacked them with remnants of the freezing water.
"You will talk to us, Melanie," the feminine French-speaker cooed. She had a calm voice, speaking to her as a mother would to her child when they were upset, "We don't want to hurt you, but we may have to if you don't tell us what we want to know."
"I don't know anything," spat Melanie, defiant.
"Puta!"
Another bucket of ice-cold water smashed over her, but this time she managed to hold in her scream. The second bucket didn't have the shocking effect of the first as she was already cold and wet, but her heart almost stopped as she heard a loud crackling sound.
"You're making Mr. Hernandez very angry by not telling us what you know," the male French voice said, "You know he's come all the way from Mexico to see you, right?"
"Have you heard stories of Mexico, little girl?" Mr. Hernandez spoke. His English was good, but it had that unmistakable Mexican twang to it, "We have very unique ways of making people talk."
Melanie kept her mouth shut and concentrated on nothing else but breathing as she heard the crackle again. She'd been basic training partners with Luis and they'd grown close over the course of the hundred days and the years after, so she'd heard a few stories about his childhood in Mexico. The place he described was not one she would like to get to know, especially not on the level Mr. Hernandez was offering.
"I would not keep Mr. Hernandez waiting any longer," the French woman advised, "He's already very angry at what you have done; you have upset him greatly with your actions. I would not upset him anymore."
"You are a smart girl, Melanie," Mr. Hernandez spoke again, walking towards her as the crackle punctuated his steps, "I assume you know that every action has a reaction, yes? You must also know that you've caused me a great deal of pain with your recent actions. What I want to know is why? Why have you done this to me? If you tell me then maybe you will die a little faster and your pain will be over sooner."
Melanie's heart was beating so fast it was threatening to punch a hole in her chest, but she forced herself to speak calmly, not wanting to betray how terrified she was.
"You don't scare me."
"Oh, I don't?" Mr. Hernandez laughed loudly, the noise reverberating off of all four walls, "I do not scare you, little girl, is that right? Let me tell you something, puta..." He spat the final word with such venom that Melanie flinched slightly, "When I am done, you will be scared of me. You will tell me everything that you have done, how you did it and why you did it. And then you will beg me to end your miserable, pathetic excuse for a life because the pain will be so unbearable that anything would be better, even death."
There was a pause and another bucket of water hit her, drenching her figure, "There is one technique that I like to start with. My father, God rest his soul, taught it to me. Have you figured out what it is yet?" She could feel the man move closer to her and as he swept a hand through her hair and that awful crackle burned her ears again, fear cascaded through her as she realised what was about to happen.
"If you electrocute somebody who is completely dry, it fries them too quickly. But if you drench them with water first, you can prolong their life, extend the pain, save them a bit. Water is a wonderful thing, it gives us life, it lets us exist." She felt a hand cup her cheek and then the cold touch of metal against one of her exposed legs, "But it will also be your enemy, the devil that torments you. The one that ultimately takes your life."
Melanie braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and tensing every muscle in her body, as if that would in any way help her. She felt the cold metal drilling into her leg and she waited for the inevitable, the sharp crackling that would signal the start of her journey of pain that would ultimately end with death. Time slowed down as the crackling started, the sharp, excruciating snaps that beckoned the arrival of thousands of volts of electricity that began to flow through her.
But it wasn't electricity flowing through her, there was no pain accompanying the sharp crackle and she realised that the hand that was cupping her cheek was still there. It hadn't moved, so why wasn't it being electrocuted? And then she realised that there was no electricity; what was flowing through her was relief, elation and confusion. Suddenly the hand moved and ripped the blindfold from across her eyes, even the dim light in the room momentarily blinding her. The sight that met her was one that filled her with ecstatic joy and her heart leapt as she took in the features that were staring back at her, inches from her face.
"Bienvenidos al Oro, puta."