CE 63

Sarik deftly blocked another kick, then retaliated with a punch, which was in turn blocked.

He didn't mind this foreplay. If he truly wanted to, he could take down his opponent in the same amount of time that it took to blink one's eyes. The longer the fight, the more interesting it became, at least in his opinion. During the past two months, Sarik had learned to stretch things out to avoid the fatal boredom that this place could bring.

Sarik's opponent let out a yell as she charged him, jabbing her fists at him with cat-like reflexes. This was followed by a kick, more punches, then a combination of kicks. The charade continued for another few minutes.

Sarik, starting to grow bored, began to fight more aggressively. His opponent threw out a wide, uncontrolled punch, which Sarik decided to use to his advantage.

Sarik grabbed his opponent's arm and moved in with a flat-handed blow into the back of her arm, stopping right as he hit the skin. The two remained immaculately still, the victor obvious.

"Finish it!" the hand-to-hand combat instructor yelled.

Sarik lowered his hand and loosened his grip on his opponent.

"If you can't finish it now, how do you expect to win a fight in a battle?" the instructor questioned. "Finish it!"

Sarik let out a "hmph" and pushed his opponent's arm, throwing her off balance. She fell flat onto her bottom.

"Everyone, class is over early today," the instructor informed his students with a hint of annoyance.

"You all right?" Sarik asked Stella as he extended his arm to assist her.

She nodded her head in the affirmative with a smile on her face before taking it.

Soon after, everyone began filing out of the room to rejoin their team instructors.

"Blue team, please wait here," the instructor told them. "I need to have a word with your instructor."

Upon hearing this, Sarah walked into the sparring room.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I would prefer to do so in private," the instructor told her.

"Wait outside," Sarah ordered Sarik, Stella, Grey, and Alex.

They quietly filed outside into the corridors and waited.

* * *

As soon as the last of the children filed out, Sarah closed and locked the door.

"Are we clean?" she whispered.

The instructor reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a small sphere. He pressed a button on its side and dropped it outside of the security camera's range.

"We have ten minutes," the instructor informed her.

"What's wrong, Edmund?" Sarah asked the older man. "I got your message earlier."

"Blue One is going to be taken away today after his next class," Edmund informed her.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"To be used in a series of potentially fatal drug tests," he told her.

"What!" Sarah yelled.

"That's what I thought when I first heard," Edmund remarked.

Sarah held her hand to her forehead and sighed.

"Why?" she said with tears starting to fall down here face. "Why children? Why mine? What have we stooped down to?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Edmund said.

Sarah wiped her eyes, then regained her composure.

"There's more, isn't there?" Sarah asked coldly.

"Yes," Edmund answered. "In less than a month's time, most of the instructors will be given a leave of absence for two weeks before being reassigned to other positions within Blue Cosmos."

"What will happen afterwards?" Sarah asked, already suspecting the answer.

"The rest of the facility's children will be put through the procedures that Blue One is going to be used to develop," Edmund answered.

"Why Sarik?" Sarah asked.

"I have no proof, but I think he's a Coordinator," Edmund told her.

"What makes you think that?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Have you seen him fight?" Edmund asked her.

"Yes," Sarah answered. "He fights as well as the other children."

"He TOYS with them, Sarah," the instructor told her. "He plays around for a few minutes, then finishes them when he gets bored. Well, almost."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.

"I mean he won't ever follow through with a knockout," Edmund answered. "Everyone else will at least try."

"Who's his partner?" Sarah asked with a slight smirk.

"Blue Two," he replied.

"Stella," Sarah muttered. "Should have known. He would never hurt that girl for any reason."

"I see," the instructor said. "I should have known better."

"Is there anything we can do to stop this, or at least rescue some of the children?" Sarah asked.

Edmund glared at Sarah in a very serious matter.

"Are you willing to risk your position within Blue Cosmos for a bunch of brats?" he asked in all seriousness.

"Blue Cosmos progressively has stooped down to something far lower than I originally thought it to be," Sarah answered. "This organization, nor its ideals, have never been worth fighting for. Sarik is an obvious testament to me that Naturals and Coordinators can co-exist. I had always thought they were a bunch of arrogant, self-righteous bastards, but obviously, my experiences were a small part of the story. If raised correctly, I think they could be made to think of everyone as equals."

"Hey now, I never said Sarik was proven to be a Coordinator," Edmund told her. "Don't need to spout out your life's philosophies quite yet."

"You're willing to bet your life that he is who and what he is," Sarah remarked. "So I am willing to risk everything for those kids, even if it turns out to be the only good thing I do in my life."

"Then remember this well," Edmund told her. "Sarik's parents are Derick and Laura Ostheim, owners of the private corporation Silver Shield Incorporated. When you are sent on leave, I will have a man contact you involving the code words 'sea is black'. He will get you in contact with the Ostheims. You have to provide him with proof of what's going on here. If you can get him something solid, the parents should take care of the rest."

"Very well," Sarah acknowledged. "Got any suggestions?"

"A few pictures would be ample enough for me," Edmund said before he stomped on the jamming sphere, destroying it.

"Than you very much, I'll work on that," Sarah said before leaving.

* * *

Sarah thought long and hard as she escorted the children to their next training sessions.

She was by no means happy. The job description she had been given was very vague, mentioning nothing about young children nor the treatment they would receive.

She has initially dismissed it as necessary. The Coordinators were a growing threat, now forming their own government and military. Drastic times called for drastic measures.

But the recent revelations she had received were the final straw. The experiments to be performed on Sarik, then the procedures that would be performed on all of the other children as a result. And Sarik was a Coordinator. Why on Earth had they picked her?

But her thoughts grew mild when she thought about Sarik. If he was one of these 'awful' Coordinators, then how bad were the rest? Sure, the few she had experience with were very elitist, always looking down on her, getting away with anything, but maybe they weren't all like that. Maybe, she was WANTING to be the victim. Maybe under specific circumstances, they could raised to co-exist with Naturals on an equal standing.

But first, she had to get these children away from here, Natural or Coordinator. As many as she could.

Sarah snapped back to reality when she heard a voice calling for her.

"M'am, I have a message for you," informed a young security officer, now walking next to her.

"Yes?" Sarah acknowledged.

The young man handed her a small envelope, then walked back to his post.

Sarah ripped the envelope open, revealing a small note.

Sarah opened it and nearly cursed after seeing its contents.

Dear Instructor,

Please take note that one of your charges, Blue One, also known as Sarik Ostheim, will be taken from his classes today for special assignment.

Please do not be alarmed. He will be returned to you within two days' time to resume his training.

Signed,

William Ostheim

Sarah almost ripped the letter to shreds, but held her composure, folding the letter and placing it in one of her pockets.

She was furious. Edmund had been right about what was going on. What was TRULY going on.

Sarah snapped out of her thoughts again as she and her charges approached one of the facility's exits. She held the door open for the children, then followed them onto the firing range.

* * *

Sarik fired another shot with his pistol, hitting the head end of his target twenty meters away.

He had been shooting pistols for most of his stay and had become very efficient with them. The instructor had started him off with a .22 magnum semi-automatic, which was very accurate and had little recoil. Over time, he had progressed to the .45 he was firing now. Once, the instructor even let him try a .50 caliber pistol, but the recoil was so powerful that even when braced, Sarik was swept off of his feet.

Sarik fired the last two shots in his pistol, then ejected the clip and reloaded. This took time since he only had the single clip in his gun and a box of .45 caliber ammunition.

As Sarik was replacing the clip into his gun, the instructor ordered everyone to lay down their weapons. After it was deemed safe, the guards took the children's various pistols and replaced them with bulky assault rifles.

Sarik hated rifles. Sure, they were more accurate and a longer effective range than pistols, but they created a lot of recoil for someone his size, especially when fired in automatic.

But, Sarik sucked it up and slammed the rifle's clip into the gun, then turned off his safety and pulled the charge pin. When he was told to, he hoisted the rifle to his shoulder and began shooting at the now moving targets.

Five minutes later, hundreds of holographic targets were sent out onto the range and the children were told that they must destroy them all or they would receive time in the cells.

Sarik switched his fire mode to full automatic and unleashed a spray of bullets upon the targets, some which moved quickly, some slowly, some erratic, some even through each other.

When he exhausted his 60 round extended magazine, Sarik quickly ejected it and reloaded as fast as he could, then returned to the targets. There were only a few dozen, so Sarik switched back to semi-automatic and used his amazing marksmanship to destroy each with only one or two rounds.

Sarik was on his last three rounds when he heard someone down the line yell, "NO!"

One of the targets slipped by, beginning to move behind a bullet-proof back drop.

Sarik, being in the central section of the firing booths, aimed with inhuman speed in the general direction of the target, then unleashed his remaining rounds as fast as he could while still trying to be accurate. One barely grazed the target, causing part of it to shatter just as it became unreachable.

Sarik let out a sigh, then placed the heavy rifle on the table in front of him, his arms sore from the gun's weight and kick.

"Good job, everyone," the instructor complimented. "Everyone is dismissed except for Blue Team."

Sarik sighed and remained where he was as the guards came by and took up his equipment, expecting more trouble.

"You and your team are doing an excellent job," the marksman instructor told him.

"Thank you!" Sarik replied enthusiastically.

"You and Blue Four are exceptional," he said as the rest of the team approached.

"Alex?" Sarik asked.

"Yes?" Alex replied, not knowing what was going on.

"I guess," the instructor replied, not knowing the child's actual name.

"Oh," Alex said, realizing Sarik wasn't talking to him.

"How would you like to try something new?" the instructor asked the four.

"Like what?" Sarik asked.

The instructor nodded at one of the guards, who picked up a box and brought it over. Inside were four well-polished weapons that appeared to be a cross of a rifle and a pistol.

"These are called submachine guns," the instructor explained to the children. "They are powerful, like rifles, without the bulky size. They're useful for short to medium ranged combat."

Sarik looked over one of the guns, examining the design. It was a much smoother design than that of a rifle or a pistol, both which were very bulky weapons in shape.

"Can I see one?" Sarik asked.

"Everyone can," the instructor replied, smirking.

Stella, Grey, and Alex joined Sarik and they each picked up a submachine gun, testing its weight in their arms.

Sarik liked the feel of this gun. If the instructor was correct, he could easily reach something farther away, like with a rifle, but it wasn't so bulky and heavy that he had to struggle to hit his target.

"Would you like to shoot them?" the instructor asked the children.

The children's wide-eyed stares did all the talking. All of them had learned to enjoy target shooting.

The man let out a slight laugh, then handed them each a clip, which they then carried over to their booths and slammed into their new guns.

Sarik found the charge pin and cocked the gun, then waited for some targets to pop up. About forty meters away, a few dozen targets popped up.

"Same rules as last time, accepting the punishment," the instructor told them. "Go."

Sarik opened fire with semi-automatic, but soon found the gun wasn't quite as accurate as a rifle, wasting six rounds on two targets. He switched to automatic and held down his trigger.

Sarik yelled as the gun's recoil forced it up, continuing to fire. Sarik released the gun as it threatened to break his right wrist and fingers, falling down onto his back. The gun fell right above his head, the barrel pointed at him.

The instructor walked over and nudged the barrel in a safe direction, then carefully ejected the gun's clip and picked it up. Sarik got to his feat and looked down in shame.

"Good attempt," the man complimented. "Try again."

Sarik took the gun back and received another clip, which he quickly slammed into place. More targets popped up, and Sarik took them down with amazing efficiency, ready for the recoil this time.

"Amazing," the older man commented. "You shoot as well as a veteran marksman, Blue One."

"I really don't think..." Sarik started.

"Nonsense, you and your team are superb," the instructor declared. "You guys will have a bright future ahead of you."

Sarik looked around at his friends, and he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. He didn't like the concept of this being training for the rest of his life.

"Now, you four are dismissed," the instructor said.

Sarik, Stella, Grey, and Alex jogged back towards the facility to rejoin Sarah, but one of the guards from the firing range caught up with Sarik and grabbed him on the shoulder.

"You're coming with me," the man told Sarik.

"Says who?" Sarik replied.

"Your instructor already knows," the man answered.

"All right, all right," Sarik complied.

* * *

Sarik followed the man to a part of the facility that he had never been before. And having lived there for two months, that was an honest surprise.

Eventually, Sarik and the guard walked up to an elevator guarded by four middle-aged looking men armed with heavy assault rifles and light machine guns. Their were no problems with them. The guard showed them his ID, and two of the armed men inserted their key cards into their slots at the same time, opening the elevator doors.

Sarik entered the elevator, which was easily large enough to hold a tank. He waited in boredom as the over-sized contraption took several minutes to descend to its destination.

When they finally stopped, Sarik stepped right off the elevator, which turned out to be a mistake.

His guard snatched him by the shirt and pulled him back just as a vault door slammed down and turned white hot. The door was so hot that the elevator quickly became as warm and dry as a desert.

After a couple of minutes, the vault door opened, blasting Sarik with a wave of dry, unbearably hot air.

"Someone got stuck in there once," the guard said. "Nothing is left of him now."

Sarik did his best to keep calm, but he knew if something was this well guarded, it had to important. In his situation, Sarik knew that to be bad.

After passing through another checkpoint, Sarik and his guard entered another elevator, which took even longer to arrive at its destination.

Sarik waited for the guard's approval before he got off this time, but exited the elevator with just as much enthusiasm.

On his way out, Sarik was grabbed by two large men, but not guards. They began to carry him forward, but Sarik fought back.

Sarik threw out one of his legs in front of the man on his right, tripping him. This knocked the other man off balance, which gave Sarik a chance to slip away.

As he ran back towards the elevator, Sarik heard a gunshot, then felt something painful hit him in the shoulder. He stopped in his tracks and looked over to find a hypodermic dart sticking out of it, the contents already injected.

Sarik fell down onto the ground and began to jerk like he was having a seizure. He couldn't control himself.

He spotted the guard standing over him with a smoking pistol before falling into oblivion.