HEY EVERYONE HERE IS CHAPTER 11.
HOPE YOU ENJOY.
CHAPTER 11: DIMITRI PART ONE.
The cool water poured over his head, easing some of the soreness from the last sparring session. There didn't seem to be any part of him that wasn't sore. Despite landing a few well placed blows, he wasn't any match for his trainer yet. Even though he spent the bulk of the last few hours being pounded into the ground, he still preferred the straight forward nature of Hans over his other trainers.
The last few months in Section had been the loneliest, most isolated he's ever felt. Even in prison there had been hardened convicts willing to extend a friendly hand and ease his transition into confinement. Existence in Section was filled with pitfalls and circling vultures.
He thought back to the disorienting discovery of his new life.
Dimitri had gone to sleep in his jail cell and awoke to an overly bright room completely devoid of color. At first he wondered if somehow he had died, but the room didn't look anything like how he pictured hell to be. After glancing around the room he noticed a woman sitting near the bed he was restrained in. The woman was older around early 50s with shoulder length blonde hair and cold gray eyes. Eyes that analyzed him like a specimen under a magnifying glass. The way she stared at him unnerved him and made him blurt out the first thing that came to his mind.
"Where am I?"
"This is Section 8. You're not in prison anymore. The world thinks you're dead. Suicide. This is your funeral."
She showed him a picture of a cemetery showing a small group of people surrounding a headstone. The group of people included his little sister Sonya who was crying, Daris who held a comforting hand on her, a few distant cousins, and some of his parents friends. The woman's voice drew his attention away from thoughts of Sonya's welfare.
"Row 8, plot 30. We've decided to give you another chance. This is where you'll train. This is where you'll learn. After two years if everything goes well, you'll work for us. Any questions?"
"Why me?"
"We believe a man with your looks, who can kill in cold blood, would be useful in our organization."
"What does your organization do?"
The woman had glared at him and answered "We prevent people like you from killing innocents. You are here to atone for what you've done. I'm going to give you a choice now. You can either conform to Section standards or you die. What will it be?"
He had wanted to die since the moment the bomb exploded and he saw the consequence of carrying out his beliefs. He had once told Daris that a person could be defined by what he was willing to die for. After seeing the destruction he had caused, he knew he wasn't willing to die for that belief any more. He had wanted to bring about change, but killing so many innocent people who had full lives ahead of them was no way to do it. Since he was not willing to be a martyr for a cause he no longer supported, he had to live in spite of his desire.
"I want to live."
With those four words he had committed himself to this strange afterlife.
He had been taken from the white room to another room sparsely furnished with a bed and an attached bathroom. The room was as brightly lit as the room he woke up in and equally devoid of color. In a dresser he had found some changes of clothes and exercise outfits. There were some toiletries in the bathroom, but there wasn't a shower or tub.
Strangely there were no light switches or clocks. Any question as to how he was suppose to sleep with such bright light was removed when the lights went out without warning that night leaving the room completely dark. The lights went on just as abruptly the next morning, jolting him awake.
He had been wondering when he would see another human being when the door opened and a woman entered the room and introduced herself as his trainer. It was a shock to find out what they expect of him.
"You've been recruited to be a Valentine operative. Have you heard of the term?"
"No."
"Sometimes the best way to get to a target is not through guns or fists. There are times where you would need to get close to a target in order to bring them down."
"Get close how?"
"Through trust, friendship, seduction, anyway you can get close to a target."
"Seduction?"
"You are a beautiful man, Dimitri. We will teach you how to turn that beauty into a weapon."
It took awhile for her words to register. Before his incarceration, the only people who commented on his looks were his mother and sister. Of course his family's praise came from love. His forced his mind away from thoughts of prison.
Her words circled in his mind: seduce, beauty, weapon, seduction. It became obvious what Section intended to use him for.
"You want to turn me into a whore."
"No. We are turning you into a weapon. It's up to us how we want to use that weapon."
He remembered the words the cold eyed woman spat at him: "We prevent people like you from killing innocents. You are here to atone for what you've done." He was here to atone, even if the act of atonement chipped away at his soul one piece at a time.
"Do you accept that?"
"I have no choice."
"No. You don't."
The first few months of training with Tasha had been emotionally draining. Knowing everything she taught was so that he could become a better whore for Section was slowly destroying him. It was made worse when he saw that her lessons were working, perhaps better than she anticipated since it was obviously having an effect on her. He shied away from thinking about the day when he would actually put what he was learning into practice.
As uncomfortable the one-on-one sessions with Tasha were, time spent in Section common areas could be downright hazardous. While most people ignored him, others were quick to assert their dominance. He lost count of the number of times he was attacked by fellow recruits.
Dimitri forced his thoughts back to the present. He turned the temperature of the water to scolding in a vain attempt to scrub the memory away. He knew it was no use. The stain was in his soul and could never be cleaned away.
With a sigh he turned off the water and toweled himself off. When he walked into the locker room he noticed another recruit shaving at the sink. As was his customary practice, he ignored the other person and quickly got dressed.
"Hey, I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. Name's Ivan."
He looked down at the proffered hand and was momentarily startled at the friendly gesture. He numbly shook Ivan's hand while studying him. He was a tall man in his mid 20s with dirty blonde hair and an open smile. Guileless blue eyes lined with laugh lines set in a tanned face curiously assessed him in return.
"You can call me Dimitri."
"Ooh! Listen to that accent! The ladies must go crazy for that."
He didn't know how to respond to that comment.
"Don't mind me. I'm just jealous since I don't have a cool accent ladies love to listen to. I blame it on my mid-western upbringing."
"Mid-western?"
"Grew up in Ohio in the good old USA. Where did they snap you up from?"
"Russia."
"You're Russian as well! That's yet another thing the ladies will go nuts for. You, my man, are blessed. Bet you don't ever have to work to get a date. Probably have women fawning over you 24/7."
The friendly ribbing was light hearted and reminded him of a better time, before Section, before Daris, and before his parents died. He smiled a little despite himself.
"Actually, I went to an all boy Catholic school before the University and my major mostly consisted of men as well."
Ivan's eyes opened wide at that information. "An all boy Catholic school! How in the world did you survive that?"
His smile widened a bit more remembering his misspent youth. "I got into a lot of trouble to stave off boredom."
"I bet! Hey I'm starving. Wanna go grab a bite to eat over at the mess hall?"
After hesitating for a brief moment he said: "Why not."
He noticed Ivan seemed friendly to everyone around Section and was greeted warmly in return. Others noticed him walking with Ivan regarded him with curiosity instead of the scorn or outright hostility he had been experiencing. They made their way to the mess hall, loaded their tray, and sat down.
"How long have you been here?"
"Man a lifetime it seems. Actually been here for 15 months, 15 long and miserable months. How long have you been here?"
"Four months."
Ivan choked on a bit of food and coughed for a little while. "You've only been here four months?"
"Yes."
"But I saw you sparring with Hans. I thought you've been here for years maybe."
"Why?"
"Well Hans is pretty high up and he doesn't normally train recruits."
"Oh? I didn't know that."
"I've only seen him train operatives on profiling or tactical operations. So what's he training you on profiling or field ops?"
"Both."
His answer seemed to confuse Ivan.
"How can you be training to become a profiler and a field ops at the same time?"
"They tell me they're training me to become a Valentine ops."
Ivan just blinked a few times at that answer. He watched as a smile appeared on Ivan's face and grew until it was a grin. All of the sudden he started laughing.
"Oh man! I had you pegged! You ARE here to drive the ladies insane!"
Ivan slapped his knee in mirth as he chortled. "And Russian to boot! Oh those girls' won't know what hit them!"
Ivan's laughter was good humored, without a hint of maliciousness. It was also contagious as it made him smile in response, a wide genuine smile.
Seeing the smile, Ivan nearly doubled over in glee. "Oh man just like that! You give them one of those smiles and they will be falling down on your feet!"
Watching a grown man laugh himself to tears made him chuckle. For the first time since waking up in the white room, he didn't feel quite so alone.
PLZ REVIEW
THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO BE BASED AROUND IVAN AND TASHA'S RELATIONSHIP WITH DIMTRI
