Chapter 10

Opening her eyes, there was a brilliant, blinding light above her. She quickly shut them again, squeezing them tight so that the eyelids crinkled and patterns of swirling colours played in the blackness. Was she dead? No. Not dead. She used her ears. Rattling noises. The tink-tink-clatter of rain against glass, but not against her body. She was inside? She must have fainted, or blacked out. Why? Muffled voices muttered all around her.

"...do with her..."

"...reported missing girl?"

"Nothing yet."

"What happened, soldier?"

Soldier? Her hearing became more focused as her head seemed to 'click' into shape and begin to work. Soldiers... The castle was still an active military base. The castle?

Am I in a castle? Is Tony-san here? Why am I thinking of a castle?

"...Tony-san..." the words were little more than a whisper.

No one heard her. She felt a sudden, inexplicable dread well up inside of her. Questions. What was hidden in her head? What couldn't she reach within her memories? What had happened? Why could her mind not tell her? More importantly, why could Tony-san not tell her?

"Goodbye, my love. I will love you forever, think happy thoughts." What was that? A poem? A line from a film or a story that Tony-san told me? I think Tony-san must have told it to me.

Then she remembered. The letter. ADAM. The fear. The safe-house. Tony-san...

Her scream of realisation would be heard by all. Her eyes ripped open and she shot bolt upright on the hospital trolley.

"TONY-SAN!"

Why? Why couldn't that blissful blockage in her memory stay? Why couldn't it just let her lie for just a short while in peace? Because, she told herself, Tony-san gave me a job to do.

"She's awake."

"Finally!"

A man with short, fiery orange hair and black, rectangular glasses over to her from the other side of the room. He was clean shaven and his blue eyes were magnified by both his glasses and Rose's resurfaced tears. A white coat hung off his back, over a smart suit. Behind him, a woman with neat blonde hair and the same white coat motioned to a young man in military fatigues to leave the room before she came over to the trolley. The man gently tried to ease rose back into a lying-down position, but she remained upright as she tried to think.

"Travel south..."

I have to get out of this room.

"Hello, little girl." The man seemed nice enough... "My name is Doctor Stewart and this..."

He never got a chance to finish as Rose's right fist smashed across her body into his jaw, smashing it into fragments. He fell sideways with a spurt of blood from his mouth as Rose's right leg thrust out and caught the lady doctor in the throat. The woman's chin shot downwards with the force of the blow and she was doubling up in mid air as she thundered backwards into the wall. She landed onto the ground in a sitting position, resting her shattered, broken frame on the cracked wall. Rose landed in the centre of the room – all it had taken to seriously injure two adults and propel herself into the centre of the room, ready to face all comers, was a single movement lasting less than five seconds.

She looked around herself at the room. There was a large window to her left, the glass dirty and grime-encrusted. But she could hear the rain beating it's endless beat onto it. The white tiled floor was dusty and chipped with age. The walls were undecorated, save for a foul turquoise paint covering. The trolley which she had led on was draped in loose, untidy sheets and next to it the doctor with the glasses led, groaning. A spurt of a dark red fluid crossed floor and started to run up the wall from his mouth. There were pieces of equipment sitting dead in the corner – as though afraid to move in case this child would look badly upon them and shatter them. Too afraid to even make a gentle 'beep'. Rose turned to the wooden doors and noticed the badly hurt lady doctor sitting next to them, a gentle trickle of blood dribbling from her mouth. She had bit her tongue. The door slammed open and the young soldier who had left the room earlier raged into the room, a yell on his tongue. Rose smashed her foot into his knee, snapping his leg like a twig and he fell, just drawing his pistol. She raised he knee upwards to meet his face and his head shot backwards – now in a foul angle compared to his body. He hit the floor with a dull thud.

Rose considered the soldier's pistol, but left it. Tony-san would not want her to use such an inelegant 'device'. But then she saw his grenades. Did Tony-san ever say anything about them?

"Tony-san..."

I will do as you wish, my love. I just hope...that I will find you again along the way.

The tears in her eyes built up again and she stepped out into the corridor. Empty. But definitely inside the castle – the grey stone walls told her that (in much the same way, the false plaster walls of her room had been enough to let her realise that this was a converted section of the castle now being used as some form of hospital). She began to run down the corridor, her feet padding along the threadbare carpets. She didn't even notice the cold, icy touch of the air in the corridor, nor the bitter draught that bit her even through her pyjamas – which were still damp from the rain. Another pair of soldiers at the end of the corridor started and stood like statues, perplexed as to why there was a young girl running towards them angrily whilst wearing night-clothes. Their hesitation was their downfall as Rose smashed them both to the floor. Two fully grown, well built, trained professional soldiers knocked cold in a single move by a nine year old girl. Rose didn't even break her stride. There was an open doorway at the end of the corridor, and outside was grey skies and falling water. She burst out into the light and felt the rain begin to nip at her body again. She didn't care. Tony-san had told her to do something. She would do it. It didn't matter if ADAM stood in her way, or if God and Jesus and an army of angels stood in her way, she would do it. For HER angel.

You will be there for me. I know you will. You are always there for me. Always. You and me forever.

Richard Sutherland woke with a sudden jerk and leapt out of his seat. He'd fallen asleep at his desk. What had woken him?

BRRRIIINNNGGG!

"Bloody thing."

He crunched back down into his chair and picked up the telephone.

"Hello?"

His wife. Oh shit.

The fire breathing dragon...

"Yes dear. Like I said, we've got a bit of a situation here. One of the children has been, ah, taken ill and as chief I can't leave the premises until the situation is resolved. I told you yesterday."

Here comes the fire.

"No dear. I can't come back just yet – we're having a really bad day here..."

Please...just be quiet for a moment.

"Look, I'll be home in time for dinner. Trust me on this. We've just got some things still to sort out. No, no I'm not hiding something..."

"Something I'm not telling her?" Well, let's just see – if I were to say to her;

"No, I'm not the chief of a government organisation that looks after terminally ill or badly disabled children who can't be looked after elsewhere. I actually brainwash the terminally ill children and make them work as assassins who kill people the government doesn't like. One of the children has been raped and murdered horribly in Edinburgh and we haven't had a report back from the recovery teams – except for from the Edinburgh Keeper, who's frantic, garbled communication our experts are still trying to decode."

Would you believe me if I said that? Eh?

A man in a pale blue shirt, unbuttoned and with a loose hanging tie (another who had stayed overnight – this had been a hard one on all of them) knocked on the door to Sutherlands office.

"I have to go. I'll ring at lunch. Goodbye. Yes, yes, goodbye."

He slammed the phone down onto its rest and motioned for the worker to come in. This guy had been responsible for talking to anyone in Edinburgh who might know the situation. Specifically the police – the few messages they had received from the Keeper (what they could understand that was) seemed to indicate that something had gone massively wrong. Hence the chaos. The fact that he had been trying since the early hours didn't look good. Either the law was extremely busy (which was possible if the operation had been very loud or particularly brutal), or, well, what were the alternatives? They just couldn't be bothered answering? Something had gone terribly wrong? But what? What could silence an entire police force? And how would it connect to the BWC? Maybe they just picked a bad time. But some shit had gone down which no one had expected. So much confusion and disorder. Sutherland's head was rocking. None of his thoughts made sense anymore. He needed answers.

"Sir? I got through to someone in the military from the castle."

"Oh good, what did you find? And why haven't the police been answering?"

The agent came into the office and shut the door behind him. He had hastily scribbled notes on a crumpled piece of paper.

"It's bad. Very bad."

"How? It was a routine trip. Does this explain why Paul hasn't contacted us?"

"Yes sir. From what I can gather – we have a rogue Cyborg. The police survivors are saying it was a 'he'."

"Good God. ADAM. Go...go on."

"He was last seen heading into a chemical works which had recently been overtaken by a Chinese man and a girl. Reports indicate that partially dissolved, broken Cyborg remains have been pulled out of one of the vats there."

"Amy's dead then...Christ." Another one! Jennifer, Sarah and Amy... "What about Paul?"

"He hasn't reported back. If he died in the vat too – there won't be anything left."

"Thank you..." Sutherland nodded grimly "Take a break, get some rest. I've got an announcement to make."

Where are Tony, Eve and Rose?

Rose arrived back at the safe-house, wet and with fresh tears on her face. She saw the door handle first. It was loose. Broken. Snapped off. The door was broken too – hanging loose on its hinges. She heard a banging noise inside the house. A shattering and crashing – the yelp of an injured man. Treading carefully, she steeped silently into the house. Another crash and a scream of pain. Down the hall, a doorway lay on the floor. A light was on. Across the floor, sideways, was cast a shadow play. Two figures. One crouching, pleading. The other, short, yet terrible in its power, seeming to grab the other figure by the throat and cast it across the room. Another crash and James Monroe slammed into view, skidding across the wooden floorboards. His blue dressing gown had a red streak down the front where his nose had been smashed. He screamed.

"I tell you, I don't know! I woke up ready to leave and they were already gone!"

"Then let me tell you," A voice, cold and calculating, but definitely that of ADAM; "that they have just returned. I can tell these things, you see. But...you say Kite left Rose a note? He has abandoned her?"

"I...found a letter."

"Intriguing. The web of betrayal and abandonment catches all. Well, I better welcome my guest. Because if what you say is true, then Rose has returned to this house alone. You are... now most unwelcome."

A black shape enveloped the screaming man, and there was a ripping, stabbing sound as he was torn apart by a kitchen knife in a frenzied attack of horrifying strength. The black shape turned to look at Rose – who was stood, still, petrified in the hallway. And Rose saw that, though it may have originally been black, it was now a new colour. A deep, dark red. The red silhouette stood poised in the doorway, facing her. About its body were the outlines of guns. In its hand was a bloodied carving knife from the kitchen. Behind it were remains. They no longer looked like human remains. They were something out of an abattoir – torn apart on all sides and with bones protruding out of the dark flesh. Like a punctured water-bag, James Monroe's blood gushed outwards over the floor in a wave. The silhouette, she noticed, had a piercing, stabbing red glow in place of its right eye. A light so bright she feared it would bore a hole in her. She stood stock still – unable to move. ADAM spoke to her, a surprising gentleness in his voice.

"Rose, you are not my enemy. I won't hurt you unless I have to."

Rose said nothing in reply.

"Where is Tony Kite? Tell me."

"I don't know."

"But you loved each other. We all saw it. They weren't happy about it, either. They only put up with it because you were so good. But I'm better Rose. And they aren't going to be around to judge us much longer. He has abandoned you, Rose. Forgotten you."

"He said you would go after him..."

"I will. Last. He's far too good to track across Britain. I'll head to the British Welfare Corporation first. I'd like you to join me. Those people, they betrayed us both. And Tony Kite betrayed your love. Does it not make you mad? Come with me. Kill them."

"No, it doesn't make me mad. I could never be mad at Tony-san. He still loves me. I'll see him again. He's my angel. Always there. And you...you are going to die."

"I'm not going to die, Rose. You shouldn't show him that respect, that devotion – he wants you to fight me instead of him. He ran away to escape me. He is not an angel, he is a coward."

"No."

Rose smiled and shook her head.

He's anything but.

"So you will not join me?"

"No."

"Then will you stand aside?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. I killed Amy, you know. At the end, she wanted it. She couldn't bear what the Corporation had done to her. Stand aside now, Rose. Or you will die as well."

"No."

"I'm truly, truly, sorry."

"So am I."

And she threw the grenades she had hidden behind her back; ADAM looked at them, bemused and was blown backwards in a spray of blood. He smashed into the carcass behind him and lay still. Rose didn't bother to check him – she hurriedly ran into her room and changed. She pulled on her jeans and black woollen and prepared to leave the house – taking Tony's note and the revolver with her. Old clothes, new weapons, new purpose. She didn't even look back at ADAM's body. There was no point. He hadn't had time to recover, and even if she used the opportunity to attack him she couldn't kill him. Not with her weapons. Not alone. She needed Tony-san for that. And he had given her a job to do. She hurried out of the house and took with her the wallet lying on the small table in the hall. Enough money for a train, easily. South. And hope no one asks questions about why a nine-year old girl was travelling alone.

She was gone for only a minute or two when ADAM awoke – the entire of his front shirt obliterated and saturated with gore. He rose to his feet and couldn't help break into a laugh. He would have to be more careful in the future. He hadn't been prepared – and had suffered for it. She would not catch him off guard again. ADAM rooted around in a wardrobe for some clothes. His current set was ruined and he'd need to cover his head if he was going to pass amongst the public. He took a pair of black jeans, cut off the bottom to shorten them, and a black hooded top, which wasn't too big. Big enough though, to hide his glowing right eye if he so wished.

Sutherland called an agent into his office. He stood looking out of his window, his hands fidgeting in front of him through nervousness - thankfully out of sight. He watched the overcast sky, spread like a thin grey sheet across the heavens and blocking out the sun, changing its mood and starting to rain. He addressed the agent, his voice unreadable.

"We can't handle this ourselves. Call for backup."

"From who sir? There is no one, the BWC is supposed to be unofficial."

"Call other Cyborg organisations."

"Who sir?"

"ANYONE!" The shout drew looks from elsewhere in the building down the corridor towards the office. "The Italians owe us a favour, but try and get another agency if you can as well. Don't care who. The goddamn French for all I care."

"Yes sir. I'll contact the Italian Social Welfare Agency and the French Child Security Organisation."

"You do that."

The Italians and the French at once. Brilliant. All he needed now was a bullet in the head. Or a dragon.

His phone began to ring. It was lunchtime. The dragon called.

Elsewhere, sitting alone on some godforsaken park bench, Tony Kite was fighting a war. A war in his mind. A war against himself. A war he needed to win to be able to help fight ADAM and to help Rose.

A war he was losing.