2013
391 stared at the walls of her barracks. Lydecker was gone again. Whenever the Colonel went out to survey the other facility, her training was left in the hands of TAC leaders and the oldest X-4s. On good days, the TAC officers let her drill the X-6s, even though that usually left her frustrated and angry. It wasn't the sixers' fault that their genes were dumbed down. Everyone knew it. Well, she wasn't supposed to know it, but as Lydecker's aide, she picked up these things occasionally. After her supposed brothers and sisters abandoned their posts four years ago, the geneticists had immediately begun gene therapy on the sixers. Flack from the guard had it that her class was too independent and too loyal to their own squad. So fucking loyal that they left her behind… She'd never forgive 493 for that. It was acceptable from 599, since he never saw anyone but 452 in the first place, but 493--Ben…
Someone approached the steel door that kept her bound to her cell. When the Colonel was on base, 391 had the freedom to follow him everywhere. A few years ago, one of the guards had called her Deck's Duckling. Beating that soldier within an inch of his life had given her the greatest sense of satisfaction since the time she trounced 452 in a training session. One of the night guard's favorite words always came to mind when she thought about the sisters who left her--skanky bitches. They could've tried harder to get her out. 599 could've taken her with him when he hopped the fence the night of the Pulse. It wouldn't have taken much.
391 already stood at attention by the time the guard opened the door. The guard looked at her with distaste, the same way that everyone else did. Everyone knew she was part of the traitor X-5 class, as much as she tried to prove otherwise. Her association with the Colonel didn't help either. He personally oversaw her training when he was at Manticore. He'd even taken her with him once to the other facility near Seattle. That ended the moment she tried to snap 494's neck. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't debriefed on the fact that the brother who betrayed her had a twin.
"X-5391. The Colonel requests your presence." The guard didn't even bother hiding the sneer on his face. She heard whispers of what the guards said sometimes, something about Lydecker going pedophile. She'd picked up a little of the vernacular from the various guards stationed in front of her cell, but that wasn't a word she felt comfortable asking about. The last time she'd asked for the meaning of a word, she'd worn the resulting bruise for a week.
As she followed the guard down the hallway, 391 had to force herself not to look into the windows of the barracks. For some reason, the guard was taking her the long way to the Colonel's office, not the usual side corridor that took her from her tiny cell to the tiny cell Lydecker called an office. As they passed by the X-8 barracks and made their way to the main conference room, 391 knew something was suspicious. But soldiers didn't ask questions of their superiors, even if their superiors were idiots.
The guard ushered her into the conference room, shutting the door behind her. 391 stood at attention, saluting the Colonel and other high-ranking members of the Council that sat around the table. She could feel their eyes on her. Few bothered to hide their incredulous looks.
"This is your answer, Deck?" Renfro, Director of the Seattle facility, actually stepped forward and circled around 391. 391 had to clench her fists to keep calm, something that wasn't lost on the blond woman. "This is the one who attacked 494, isn't it? She has more of an attitude problem than the really little one that caused all the problems. 210?"
Lydecker nodded in affirmation. "X-5391 has been undergoing special training in location and retrieval. Psy-Ops cleared her for solo four months ago."
Renfro looked at 391 again. The older woman actually smiled. It wasn't the nice smile 391 remembered the Watchers wearing when she was little, but it was still a smile. She had to fight the urge to smile back. She was only allowed to smile at Lydecker, and only then on the rare occasion that he smiled at her first.
"So, you've got a lead on the others, Deck?" Director Renfro took her place at the table again, folding her hands in her lap. "If you fail again…"
The Colonel set a folder on the table, spreading photos across the top. Angling her head, 391 could see headshots of her brothers and sisters as they'd been four years ago, before they escaped. Scattered among the pictures were more recent shots, some of familiar barcodes on the backs of necks.
"599 aka Michael Hanover. Booked for armed robbery in Santa Fe in May of '10." Lydecker's fingers paused at another picture, this time of a girl with light brown hair and blue eyes. "210 aka Jenny Peters. Accused of horse theft about 300 miles west of here. Last scene heading towards California." And a third picture. "452 aka Maxine Montoya. Placed with the Redding family just outside of Cody in March of '09. Reported missing two days after the Pulse." The Colonel shuffled the papers back together, shoving them back into the folder. "We have traces, Director Renfro. There's even a lead from Houston. Two boys have been identified in a series of gun heists. Apparently, they've been stealing guns from hunting supply stores in Harris County."
"And 391 is your solution?" Renfro turned her sneer towards 391 again, and she took an immediate dislike to the woman.
391 tensed, her hands clenching into fists again. The Colonel's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. "I've scored higher than any other X-5 on all of my training battery, Director Renfro ma'am," she answered, careful to keep her voice level the way Colonel Lydecker taught her. "Sgt. Herrick reported that he'd never seen a soldier beat the clock on the standard reconnaissance training, ma'am. I even beat 494." She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the older woman. "Ma'am."
Out of the corner of her eye, 391 noticed a slight smile cross the Colonel's face before it faded. Director Renfro pressed her lips together and stared at 391 again. 391 resisted the urge to shift in place. She stood straight ahead, meeting Renfro's cold blue eyes. The old woman didn't scare her. No one scared her. Not even the nomalies in the basement…
"Your job, Deck. The Council will give you a chance, but…"
After the others filed out of the room, the Colonel bent down to meet 391's eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder, something he rarely did. "You understand the mission, Puck? This is what we've been training you for. You've got the right skills, and all the preparation we could give you."
391 nodded slowly. The mission was to find her brothers and sisters and bring them back for reindoctrination. "I understand, sir. I won't let you down."
"I don't think you will, 391. I don't think you will."
Two days later, 391 found herself on a train to Houston. An X-4 would shadow her the whole way, and Lydecker would remain in contact via cell phone. It felt odd to face the world. Her hair was free for once, instead of pulled back in its regulation braid. Her new blue jeans felt stiff as she shifted her weight, and the knit hat one of the Watchers jammed over her eyes blocked her view.
"Can I see your ticket, hon?"
She looked up at the older woman, startled. "Yes, ma'am," 391 managed to say as she fumbled for her ticket.
"Robin, huh? That's a pretty name, hon." The woman punched her ticket, handing it back to 391. "On your way to see family?"
391 nodded. "Yes, ma'am. My two brothers."
The woman's face brightened. "Best of luck to you, dear."
Luck wouldn't help her. The mission's success depended on how well she performed and utilized her training. She had to make the Colonel proud, and prove once and for all that his faith in her was justified. But most of all, she had to make her brothers and sisters pay…
391 stared at the walls of her barracks. Lydecker was gone again. Whenever the Colonel went out to survey the other facility, her training was left in the hands of TAC leaders and the oldest X-4s. On good days, the TAC officers let her drill the X-6s, even though that usually left her frustrated and angry. It wasn't the sixers' fault that their genes were dumbed down. Everyone knew it. Well, she wasn't supposed to know it, but as Lydecker's aide, she picked up these things occasionally. After her supposed brothers and sisters abandoned their posts four years ago, the geneticists had immediately begun gene therapy on the sixers. Flack from the guard had it that her class was too independent and too loyal to their own squad. So fucking loyal that they left her behind… She'd never forgive 493 for that. It was acceptable from 599, since he never saw anyone but 452 in the first place, but 493--Ben…
Someone approached the steel door that kept her bound to her cell. When the Colonel was on base, 391 had the freedom to follow him everywhere. A few years ago, one of the guards had called her Deck's Duckling. Beating that soldier within an inch of his life had given her the greatest sense of satisfaction since the time she trounced 452 in a training session. One of the night guard's favorite words always came to mind when she thought about the sisters who left her--skanky bitches. They could've tried harder to get her out. 599 could've taken her with him when he hopped the fence the night of the Pulse. It wouldn't have taken much.
391 already stood at attention by the time the guard opened the door. The guard looked at her with distaste, the same way that everyone else did. Everyone knew she was part of the traitor X-5 class, as much as she tried to prove otherwise. Her association with the Colonel didn't help either. He personally oversaw her training when he was at Manticore. He'd even taken her with him once to the other facility near Seattle. That ended the moment she tried to snap 494's neck. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't debriefed on the fact that the brother who betrayed her had a twin.
"X-5391. The Colonel requests your presence." The guard didn't even bother hiding the sneer on his face. She heard whispers of what the guards said sometimes, something about Lydecker going pedophile. She'd picked up a little of the vernacular from the various guards stationed in front of her cell, but that wasn't a word she felt comfortable asking about. The last time she'd asked for the meaning of a word, she'd worn the resulting bruise for a week.
As she followed the guard down the hallway, 391 had to force herself not to look into the windows of the barracks. For some reason, the guard was taking her the long way to the Colonel's office, not the usual side corridor that took her from her tiny cell to the tiny cell Lydecker called an office. As they passed by the X-8 barracks and made their way to the main conference room, 391 knew something was suspicious. But soldiers didn't ask questions of their superiors, even if their superiors were idiots.
The guard ushered her into the conference room, shutting the door behind her. 391 stood at attention, saluting the Colonel and other high-ranking members of the Council that sat around the table. She could feel their eyes on her. Few bothered to hide their incredulous looks.
"This is your answer, Deck?" Renfro, Director of the Seattle facility, actually stepped forward and circled around 391. 391 had to clench her fists to keep calm, something that wasn't lost on the blond woman. "This is the one who attacked 494, isn't it? She has more of an attitude problem than the really little one that caused all the problems. 210?"
Lydecker nodded in affirmation. "X-5391 has been undergoing special training in location and retrieval. Psy-Ops cleared her for solo four months ago."
Renfro looked at 391 again. The older woman actually smiled. It wasn't the nice smile 391 remembered the Watchers wearing when she was little, but it was still a smile. She had to fight the urge to smile back. She was only allowed to smile at Lydecker, and only then on the rare occasion that he smiled at her first.
"So, you've got a lead on the others, Deck?" Director Renfro took her place at the table again, folding her hands in her lap. "If you fail again…"
The Colonel set a folder on the table, spreading photos across the top. Angling her head, 391 could see headshots of her brothers and sisters as they'd been four years ago, before they escaped. Scattered among the pictures were more recent shots, some of familiar barcodes on the backs of necks.
"599 aka Michael Hanover. Booked for armed robbery in Santa Fe in May of '10." Lydecker's fingers paused at another picture, this time of a girl with light brown hair and blue eyes. "210 aka Jenny Peters. Accused of horse theft about 300 miles west of here. Last scene heading towards California." And a third picture. "452 aka Maxine Montoya. Placed with the Redding family just outside of Cody in March of '09. Reported missing two days after the Pulse." The Colonel shuffled the papers back together, shoving them back into the folder. "We have traces, Director Renfro. There's even a lead from Houston. Two boys have been identified in a series of gun heists. Apparently, they've been stealing guns from hunting supply stores in Harris County."
"And 391 is your solution?" Renfro turned her sneer towards 391 again, and she took an immediate dislike to the woman.
391 tensed, her hands clenching into fists again. The Colonel's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. "I've scored higher than any other X-5 on all of my training battery, Director Renfro ma'am," she answered, careful to keep her voice level the way Colonel Lydecker taught her. "Sgt. Herrick reported that he'd never seen a soldier beat the clock on the standard reconnaissance training, ma'am. I even beat 494." She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the older woman. "Ma'am."
Out of the corner of her eye, 391 noticed a slight smile cross the Colonel's face before it faded. Director Renfro pressed her lips together and stared at 391 again. 391 resisted the urge to shift in place. She stood straight ahead, meeting Renfro's cold blue eyes. The old woman didn't scare her. No one scared her. Not even the nomalies in the basement…
"Your job, Deck. The Council will give you a chance, but…"
After the others filed out of the room, the Colonel bent down to meet 391's eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder, something he rarely did. "You understand the mission, Puck? This is what we've been training you for. You've got the right skills, and all the preparation we could give you."
391 nodded slowly. The mission was to find her brothers and sisters and bring them back for reindoctrination. "I understand, sir. I won't let you down."
"I don't think you will, 391. I don't think you will."
Two days later, 391 found herself on a train to Houston. An X-4 would shadow her the whole way, and Lydecker would remain in contact via cell phone. It felt odd to face the world. Her hair was free for once, instead of pulled back in its regulation braid. Her new blue jeans felt stiff as she shifted her weight, and the knit hat one of the Watchers jammed over her eyes blocked her view.
"Can I see your ticket, hon?"
She looked up at the older woman, startled. "Yes, ma'am," 391 managed to say as she fumbled for her ticket.
"Robin, huh? That's a pretty name, hon." The woman punched her ticket, handing it back to 391. "On your way to see family?"
391 nodded. "Yes, ma'am. My two brothers."
The woman's face brightened. "Best of luck to you, dear."
Luck wouldn't help her. The mission's success depended on how well she performed and utilized her training. She had to make the Colonel proud, and prove once and for all that his faith in her was justified. But most of all, she had to make her brothers and sisters pay…