- infie
Recap: (Wednesday)
Ashkovich withdrew a small device from his pocket, and 494 narrowed his eyes. It looked like a remote control, with a single large button. Ashkovich pressed it, and even as 494's world dissolved into pain, he recognized the increasingly familiar crackle of electricity.
{So, that's what the extra wires were for....}
Mercifully, the world went black.
Recap: (Thursday, 0645 hrs)
511 returned to the bolt hole at dawn. He approached at a trot, then paused about 30 metres out as he noted the scuff marks edging the crevice they'd been using. He stopped dead, then circled out around the base's position. Due south of their encampment, he found what he was looking for. Four sets of booted footprints led to the edge, then back out headed towards Ashkovich's compound. Drag marks obscured part of the evidence, and 511 felt his stomach drop as his fears were confirmed.
{Goddamnit.} He cursed silently, not wanting to alert any possible sentries left behind.
Carefully he edged his way to the cleft, all senses on full alert. He stopped again near the brink, dropping to his stomach and crawling the last few metres to peer cautiously over the edge.
The camp was empty.
511 rolled himself soundlessly over the edge and examined the bottom. The evidence was clear; 529 had been surprised, and taken. 511 ground his teeth. The footprints led directly to their hiding place and back out with no attempts to hide them. {They knew our location.}. The hot flash of rage caught him by surprise, and he picked up 529's discarded headset with every intention of breaking it into tiny little pieces. As he raised it in his hands, he heard a noise.
511 froze. Very faintly, so softly that a normal would have never caught it, he could hear breathing. {494!} It had to be; only 494 and 511 had been implanted with the subcutaneous transmitters. 511 fumbled to get the headset over his ears, almost breaking it in his haste. He took a deep breath and forcibly calmed himself, then placed it over his ears with exaggerated care. The hoarse, laboured breathing of someone in pain came through as clearly as if 511 had been sharing the room. {Holy shit. He got him back.}
Instantly 511 was on his feet, gathering all the equipment he would need to maintain the tenuous connection to 494. He hesitated over the portable satellite transceiver, then stuffed it into his duffel. He took one last look around, then disappeared over the edge in a swirl of robes.
(Thursday, 0700 hrs)
494 came awake to the sensation of something digging deeply into the flesh of his side. "OK, OK." he muttered, rolling painfully away from the pole wielded by his guard. The scorched skin on his back protested loudly, sticking a little to the cage mesh. He bit back a groan and eyed the walls around him with distaste. {You know, I'm think I'm starting to lose my fondness for Costeel 494.} He came up onto his feet and scanned the room. Only one guard had been left to watch them, and he stood near 529, his rifle pointedlt aiming at 529's temple.
529 hadn't yet moved, and his breathing was still gurgling in his chest. The position he had been chained in was preventing his marvelous body from healing itself, and from the look of the black, mottled bruise still spreading along his ribcage and abdomen, without medical assistance it would soon be too late. "Hey," 494 addressed his guard curtly. "Get Ashkovich in here."
The guard glared at him and didn't respond. 494 dropped to one knee and lowered his voice to a dark growl. "Look, asshole. Right now the only thing that is keeping me from busting out of here and taking you apart in fucking pieces is the man on that table. He's the only thing keeping you alive. Now get Ashkovich in here."
The guard shot him another look hot with hate, but made his way to an intercom recessed into the wall of the room near the door. He pressed the button.
"Da?"
"The prisoner wishes to speak with you." the guard said in Russian.
"Does he?" the reply was thick with amusement. "I am on my way."
The guard returned to his post beside 529. He glanced up at 494, then deliberately jabbed the barrel of his rifle against the bulge of 529's broken rib. The action wrung a groan out of the unconsious transgenic, and 494 felt his face tighten. The guard laughed and pointed. {Laugh it up, asshole. You're dead already. You just haven't bled yet.} Something in 494's expression made the guard stop smiling and pale, taking an involuntary step backwards. The barrel of the gun came around to point at the cage, and 494 waited to feel the bite of the bullets into his body with fatalistic patience.
"Halt! Manatov! What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Ashkovich's voice was hot with rage. "Point that gun somewhere else before I feed it to you!"
"I... He.." the guard gestured incoherently.
"Pah!" Ashkovich snatched the gun out of Manatov's hands. "Leave us now. Send in Andrei."
If the guard had been angry before, this curt dismissal fueled his rage to new heights. The look he gave 494 was unmistakable; if they were left alone again, one of them would die. Ashkovich pushed him impatiently, and Manatov left, glaring over his shoulder at the caged, grinning transgenic. 494 flipped him the bird.
Ashkovich sighed. "I would have more success keeping you alive if you would not encourage him."
494 shrugged and moved restlessly within his cage, eyes on 529. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. He's an asshole."
Ashkovich pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. "This is true. But he is also aquainted with you already, and I do not believe that he has forgiven you just yet."
That got 494's attention. "No." he said with absolute certainty. "I've never met him before."
Ashkovich moved over to the gurney and ran his hand down 529's uninjured flank. "I did not say that you had met him." he tilted his head coyly, gazing up at 494 through his lashes. "I believe that you knew his brother, in the Balkans."
494 didn't blink. "Is that what this is all about? The war?"
"Oh yes, thought not as you may think." Ashkovich walked to one of the tall standing freezers that 494 had marked earlier as the virus repositories. He unlocked and opened the door of the unit quickly, extracting a vial and bringing it back over where 494 could see it clearly. The light glinted through the amber-coloured liquid inside.
"This, 494, is called 'Orono'. It is a virus, of course, a biowarfare agent used extensively in the Balkan War. I believe you are familiar with its effects?" 494 didn't react, just stared at him expressionlessly. "You did, after all, infiltrate a local resistance group in Bucharest, three days before this bioagent was released over the city? Correct me, please, if I am wrong..." he tapped his lip thoughtfully. "But I seem to recall that out of your cell, you were in fact the only survivor. Even your little infiltrator partner died."
494's hand closed into a fist, the metal of the cage biting into his fingers where he had laced threm through the mesh. He remained silent. Ashkovich smiled expansively. "And, of course, your sponsor into the group was none other than Sasha Ivan Manatov."
"Get to the point."
"Well, I would think it would be obvious, to one of your faculties. Orono was the basis for my new virus, the wonderful Argent. And, your Manticore agreed to make you available to me as a test subject, because of your previous exposure. In exchange, I will of course provide them with the antidote you will help me synthesize."
{Lydecker, you cock.} "Uh. Huh. And you figured I would just co-operate with having that shit running through my veins again, why?"
"Of course I did not. That is why we also have your partner. His well-being is your reward for a job well done."
{My partner... They don't know that there were three of us.} "Not if he's dead."
Ashkovich twitched slightly with surprise at the dry humour in 494's words. He turned to look at 529's heaving chest. He was plainly getting weaker. "Andrei!" he shouted for the still absent guard who was to have replaced Manatov. A tall, dark-haired man strode confidently into the room, his entire bearing and posture marking him indelibly as a professional solder. He ran his eyes over 494 dismissively. For the first time, 494 felt a spark of disquiet. {Uh oh. This fellow knows what he's doing.}
"Da?" Andrei sounded bored.
"Get the doctor in here. This man is to be treated for his injuries." Ashvovich gestured at 529. "His survival is paramount."
Andrei nodded and left.
"Now. 494. You will co-operate, or we will make you co-operate. The cage will remain electrified, yes? The choice is yours." Ashkovich picked up the pole that would release the base of the cage and prepared to open it. 494 ran his eyes over the room. {No threats. Take him out, unhook 529, book for RV. Sounds like a plan to me.}
Ashkovich caught the flicker of 494's eyes and stopped. "Ah, yes." He walked to the intercom and pressed a red button. Eight guards rushed into the room, seven of them taking up unflinching aim at 494, and one pressing a Glock21 against the back of 529's skull. 494 sighed. Ashkovich returned to his position under the cage and released the lock.
494 dropped to the ground with less than his usual grace. The electrical burns on his back, buttocks, and legs pulled painfully, and he bit back a groan. He rose back to his feet stiffly.
"On the table, on your stomach."
494 stetched out on the table, gritting his teeth and hissing faintly as the cold metal encountered warm flesh. The iron restraints were placed carefully his wrists and ankles, and finally his waist was encircled and chained down. "A bit of overkill for a co-operative subject, isn't it?"
Ashkovich chuckled and moved into 494's line of sight. He was drawing silver-coloured liquid into a syringe. "The initial tests of this virus have indicated that it has rapid and... unfortunate... results for the subjects. I do not trust you, first of all. Second, you will likely be genuinely unable to help yourself."
494 stared grimly into Ashkovich's eyes. "What are you waiting for, a kiss? Hit me already."
Ashkovich emptied the syringe into 494's shoulder, and stepped back to watch.
(Thursday, 0810 hrs)
511 rubbed his eyes tiredly. The reasoning behind sending 494 out to get caught was now clear, as was Manticore's revealing the location of 529. But why hadn't they handed over 511, too? What game was Lydecker playing now? He bet that 494 had it figured out already. He stared down at his hands, then grunted and reached for the satellite set.
"Hot Zone to base. Hot Zone to base."
[Base here. Go, Zone.]
"Get the Colonel."
It was only a moment before Lydecker came on the comm. [Go, Zone.]
"The mission is progressing as planned, sir." 511 couldn't quite keep the anger out of his tone. Lydecker laughed.
[So you figured it out. Well done, son.]
{Fuck you.} "How long?"
[Six days.]
"529 might not have six days. 494 has indicated that he's in bad shape." There was a long pause. "Did you copy, base?"
[Copy.] Another pause. [Wait as long as you can.]
"Yes, sir. Out."