Chapter Ten: Fallout
Torri sat perfectly still staring out the small window that allowed little light from the cab into the cold recesses of where she sat. Her senses were alert for any movement from their captive who lay across from her on the floor of the refrigerated truck bed. Her thoughts however were a million miles away. It had been a messy but rewarding mission. She had lost one of the soldiers under her command, taken down before he even had a chance to join the fight. The man that Lydecker had so desperately wanted had accurately and fatally shot the boy without ever seeing him. Her mouth thinned, there was something more to his ability than just what fighting prowess he possessed, but just what was like a butterfly that would flit out of her mental grasp just about the time she had it pinned down. She recalled back to when Lydecker had been taken and how someone in that group kept sensing where the bullet was going to come from next and move Lydecker into that line of fire, foiling all of their attempts to thwart their escape. She wondered if this man had something to do with that.
They had secured the apartment pretty quickly, shackling their prize and cornering the X-5 that was with him. Then all hell had broken loose, with the woman struggling against Bryn and the man suddenly jumping into the fray. Torri had managed to subdue him but not before he had taken down and severely injured several members of her small group of soldiers. She had knocked him out cold and had turned to carry out the orders to terminate the X-5. The woman had broken off her attack of Bryn and had headed directly for the kitchen window. Torri had lit off her weapon watching as one of the bullets grazed her and threw her off balance. She had hit her head on the frame of the glass before breaking through it. Torri had run up to the window and watched as the woman had fallen, and she knew long before the woman landed that she was unconscious. She had grimaced seeing the impact that the woman had taken and shuddered as the delayed thud reached up to her perch.
She had turned back around to face her superior, "I'll go check to make sure she is dead Ma'am," She had said taking her orders very seriously when it came to the disposition of the X-5.
Bryn moved over to the window and looked down at the unmoving form of her fellow X-5, "Don't bother X-8-222, she's not going anywhere." She stepped away from the window, Torri just watching her closely. Bryn stepped over to the lifeless form of Kito then, rolling him roughly over, and checking for a pulse. She drew her fingers away looking disgusted, but satisfied with whatever she had come up with.
"Get Cale and bring him…" she glanced around the room once, "We're done here," and with that she had strode out the door. Torri had picked the man up bodily and brought him to this vehicle herself, dumping him on the floor like so much garbage, securing his wrists in behind him and shackling them to his ankles.
Torri focused once more on her surroundings, feeling bitter about sitting and watching an unconscious man in a box he couldn't get out of. Bryn had ordered her back here while the rest of the team either rode in the cab of the truck or in the Humvee behind the truck. And Torri couldn't help but wonder whether or not it had to do with the rivalry Bryn seemed to insist on having with her.
Bryn had ordered him stripped of all but his underwear, which struck Torri as odd but she had done as she was told. Seeming to feel a need to explain herself Bryn had stated it was to keep his body temperature down and reduce his ability to fight should he wake up some time during the trip. Torri's mouth thinned, as the thought occurred to her that Bryn was just trying to humiliate the man.
The older woman bothered Torri. Torri was used to her superiors being in control, of a situation, of their troops and above all of their emotions. Lydecker had always made sense to Torri, his thoughts and directions had always seemed logical. Rarely had he ever given her a reason to doubt his command ability. In Bryn she saw none of that, her orders often didn't make sense, or contradicted earlier orders she herself had given. Granted she was given a lot of lee to change orders as the conditions warranted, but Torri had noticed no such warranting conditions. She seemed to waffle a lot. Her handling of Kito had been way out of line, especially when their objective had been to first get information out of him, before any further action was taken. They had been damned lucky that her trooper had found that fortuitous piece of trash stuck to a fence. Or else they might have been out of luck, or worse, they would have had to stay longer and wait for Tima to return and see if she would be any more cooperative. She shook her head again, doubtful, very doubtful. Torri wondered if Bryn problems had anything to do with the reconditioning she had undergone ten years ago when she had been returned to the fold. Oh yes Torri knew about that, she had been one of the very few successes in reconditioning a mind that had been returned from the outside world. But she had often wondered if such a procedure didn't scar the mind of the person subjected to it.
Torri shook her head feeling blasphemous for having such mutinous thoughts about the woman that she was charged with helping. But she would be glad to get back under Lydecker's command and away from this vindictive piece of work she was forced to work for now.
Torri was torn from her contemplation by movement from her charge.
Logan's first sensation upon waking from his induced unconsciousness was the cold. His whole body shivered uncontrollably, his eyelids pressed more tightly together, as he tried to convince himself that it was his imagination. He tried to convince himself that a lot of the past few hours had been figments of his overtaxed mind. Slowly he opened his eyes a crack, clenching his teeth tightly at the sight that greeted him. It was dark but his eyes adjusted quickly turning the black into an infrared green. He was lying prone on the floor in what looked to be a large box. The hard cold surface underneath him bit into the flesh of his inexplicably bare arms and chest. He could feel the cold air move over his unprotected legs as well. It seemed they only left enough clothes on him to be reasonably decent in mixed company. He vaguely wondered what purpose that would serve.
They were moving, for he felt the vibration and the sporadic bouncing that subjected him to bruising jars against that which he lay. Slowly he let the breath he had held upon waking out watching as it condensed in front of his eyes, so the cold wasn't his imagination. He was able to confirm that when he was able to make out the coils along the walls, which meant this was a refrigeration car of a train or maybe a truck.
Discomfort in his arms was the next sensation that filtered through to his cold sluggish brain. He realized that they had been secured behind him sometime after they had rendered him unconscious. Probably about the same time they had taken his clothes. His shoulders ached from the unnatural angle that had put them. That proved to him beyond a doubt the reality of what had happened to him in his own home. His body jerked involuntarily as he remembered Max. What had happened to her? They had been going… going to kill her! His heart beat faster and he could not breath as that thought jolted him. Had she gotten away or had then succeeded in taking her out of his life for good? He felt colder with the thought that he didn't know, and might never find out. His mind of course fed him the worst possible scenario that she was lying dead on the floor of their apartment, and Kito with her. He grit his teeth again, "Not again, please not again." He thought shutting his eyes against the pain, they had just gotten back in the groove of being in each others lives. Now they were separated again by the wedge named Manticore. It seemed they were never going to catch a break.
It was just like the last time: Max finding out that she was pregnant, an ambush by Manticore, and now he didn't know whether she was alive or dead. The only difference was that he was now the subject of Manticore's desires and she would be the one left behind to deal with his absence.
And Kito…he had led Manticore to them. That thought went round and round in his head, souring the more he thought on it. Logan was sure that Kito had not done it willingly, especially the condition in which Kito was dropped just inside his door. But it still made him mad, Manticore Transgenics were supposed to be conditioned to resist torture, even when faced with death itself. By appearances it seemed that Kito had been broken, he had surrendered information that had been kept a secret from Manticore for eleven years. But perhaps he should not read that much into what he saw, Manticore had always been good at deception. Manticore may have purposely brought his battered body before them to lead them to think just that, that they had coerced him into giving them away. Divide and conquer.
Logan opened his eyes again, blinked a time or two and looked about his surroundings again. His searching eyes froze on the other occupant of the box he was now incarcerated in. It was the dark skinned girl from the apartment, the ache in his face came back as he looked at her and remembered the butt of the rifle connecting just under his left eye. She was sitting on the opposite side of the box and just a little behind his limited field of view, the reason that he had not seen her immediately upon waking. She wasn't looking at him but staring toward the cab of the vehicle evident only by the wan light shining through a small window at one end. Logan moved his eyes that direction unable to see through the frost stained glass. She looked to be unaffected by the cold of the truck they were in but then again she had more on than he did.
Logan shifted slightly, trying to get feeling back into his numb arms, unable to make them move in order to support his attempt to sit up. As he did he discovered that his ankles had also been bound together and the two, his ankles and his wrists were connected to each other as a chilled section of chain lay against the back of his thigh. His movement drew the woman's attention and the barrel of her gun fixed quickly on his prone form. Logan immediately froze again watching her intently. The barrel was aimed steadily at him and she was scowling. Logan picked up a hint of curiosity in her eyes, "Let me sit up," Logan said or tried to, it came out as more of a croak. He cleared his throat before he said, "I can't feel my arms."
Her head raised a bit and she looked down her nose at him, she drew in a slow breath as she did. She looked shocked a moment and Logan wondered just why. It dawned on him a moment later, he shouldn't have been able to see her at all, there was very little light in here and any Norm would be blind to her presence. He grimaced inwardly, if they had possessed any doubts about him he had just dispelled them. He had just confirmed for them what he was, a freak, not Norm any longer and not Manticore but something trapped between the two. Just what they wanted, just what they had been after.
Finally the shock faded from her face and she nodded assent at him but did not lower her weapon. He frowned, they were taking no chances with him were they? He had hoped that she would at least have given him a hand getting into a better position. Instead he was forced to thoroughly embarrass himself as he rolled up onto his knees and forehead. Once there he rocked back onto his heels and ungracefully flung himself back against the wall bruising both shoulder blades as he did. He couldn't look at the girl for long moment's very put out by his circumstance. Slowly circulation returned to his arms and he grimaced, as the tingling became almost painful.
"Better?" He heard her ask gruffly.
Logan looked up at her seeing her with a raised eyebrow now, the only difference he saw in her expression. He smiled sarcastically, "Yes, much." The eyebrow raised higher as if she had never been subjected to that kind of tone before. Logan lowered his eyes again, aware of the throbbing pain in his cheek where she had taken several layers of his skin off. Awkwardly he raised one newly awakened hand to that throbbing scrape, dragging his opposite arm up his back by the manacles. He had to lean his head down to meet his own questing fingers, unable to get his trailing arm to stretch far enough to reach. The spot was tender and, to his fingers, swollen and his fingers came away sticky from the fluid still oozing from the not quite scabbed sore. That told him that he had not been out that long.
Logan looked up again as he heard the sound of the gun shifting. She had relaxed her aim on him, now resting the weapon across her lap but within easy reach should he try something. They sat for a long time in silence, and Logan moved his gaze to stare at the opposite wall. His mind was racing however, wondering what they were going to do with him next.
If Max had survived, "Please God, say she is still alive," He thought suddenly, not sure if was going to be able to handle thinking of her as dead again. He closed his eyes again a moment, "No," He told himself, "She is alive, she has to be. I have to believe that she is," She would mount a search party and she would come after him. But what could he do in the meantime? He had an idea what they meant for him, testing, certainly, possibly experimentation… but exactly what eluded him. All he could do right now was survive, hope Max was all right, and hope that she would come for him soon.
Torri just stared at the man just as he was staring at a spot about midway between them. She couldn't help but notice just how handsome the man was. He was definitely older, as much as twice her age, but his body was that of a much younger man. Nothing about him showed a life of decadence and pleasure, an impression that she had gotten by the looks of his house. She knew something about the economy and where he lived and the size of his apartment told a lot about just how much the man was worth, financially.
But this man was no cheese-puff sitting around his decadent pad and getting fat. His muscles were firm, well defined, and she watched intently as they shifted under his skin in an automatic reaction to the sway and shake of the truck as it trundled down the road. Some of her brothers and sisters weren't this well muscled, she thought. His face was all rugged good looks, he was not clean shaven like the men she was used to seeing but it added an air to him that just made her want to like him. His light eyes in the moments that they had actually looked at her were emotional, expressive eyes. She had also seen in them a measure of sadness, as if he had experienced a great deal of hardship. His hair was a total state of disorder, a common fashion on the outside, and it seemed that he was not immune. Normally she did not like disorder of any sort but on him the look was right somehow. Long before he had awakened she had noticed the ugly scar on his left leg, and curiosity pricked at her about what exactly could have happened to him to leave such a profound mark.
She leaned forward seeing his eyes come up at the sound of her movement, "You're not Military are you?" Torri asked in a low voice, knowing she would be disciplined if Bryn overheard in the cab.
He tilted his head to one side, "Gee, you think?" He answered her, and then he looked away from her again, "I don't even know what I'm doing here."
She grinned, "You're a bad liar," Torri stated evenly, "How else would you know that I was here unless you were able to see me? And if that's the case then you're not a Norm. That's what you're doing here."
"You're noisy," He said shortly, but she saw the twitch in his face that told her that he had regretted giving himself away to her.
"So it's true then, Manticore blood changed you." He remained silent still looking at the spot he had chosen this time to stare at, "I never had the privilege of seeing you fight, though more than a few of my brothers have said that you are nearly as good as us."
"Why don't you take off the shackles and you can have a first hand demonstration," He growled vehemently, those blue eyes suddenly intent on her, much like a lion sizing up a Zebra.
Torri leaned back smiling a little at his challenge, "I don't think so."
He snorted, "Thought not." And Torri rankled a bit at his tone.
They both went silent for a long time, and Torri watched as he began shifting in a manner which told her he was uncomfortable with the position that he was in. Not that she could blame him it was about thirty-two degree's in here.
He also seemed uncomfortable with his hands secured behind him as he scooted out from the wall and raised his shackled hands as high as the mid chain would allow, behind him in an attempt to stretch out the cramped muscles. Before she could react however he had lowered his arms and deftly scooted his shackles under his posterior.
Quickly she raised the gun again, and he froze again staring at her in an unnervingly calm manner. Shortly he shifted again and his hands were now under his knees and behind his ankles, "You'd better hold still, or you will force me to shoot you." She ordered.
He smiled in an utterly confident fashion as he said, "You could… but then Bryn and Lydecker would both be very upset that you terminated their prize experiment, wouldn't they?" She felt her eyes widen in surprise as he mentioned those names. He smiled even more broadly at her discomfiture, "What you don't think I know what's going on? You didn't think I knew about Lydecker's interest in me? And if Lydecker's interested that means the committee's interested," He shook his head at her and proceeded to clear his hands of his ankle-shackles and cross them over his knees, "And if that's the case they want me alive."
She jumped up then intent on getting him back into a more controllable position even if it meant putting his lights out again. She raised the butt of her rifle again and she closed the small space between them, but, as she got within striking distance, he lashed out with his shackled feet catching her in the ankles and spun on one hip dropping her heavily on her back. Before she could regain her feet he had rolled over one shoulder and onto his feet. He lost balance as the shackles kept his feet too close together for a proper landing. He hopped backwards before he fell back bracing himself in the aft corner of the truck. Torri spun to face him her face ugly with anger and embarrassment.
He looked just as angry as he said hotly, "Don't… touch me!"
Torri's gun came up again, her finger on the trigger, "If you don't cooperate, Cale, you'll have more to worry about than a raspberry on your cheek," She growled angrily, "Now sit down!"
He did nothing for long moments but stand there braced in the corner and stare at her like an angry cornered animal. Finally he smiled that unnerving smile at her again and slowly slid down the wall sitting in a modified cross-legged fashion with both hands resting now comfortably in his lap, "Yes, Much better," She heard him whisper and then he just closed his eyes ignoring her.
Slowly she resumed her watch sitting back where she had been before, but she found herself more wary than ever of this mystery man whom Lydecker claimed was the next step in Manticore's evolution.