- infie
Recap: (Thursday)
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, 1600hrs)
Andrei looked at his watch. "Eight hours." he said.
"I know how long it's been!" Ashkovich was purple with rage. "Why isn't anything happening?"
494 lay still on the metal table, sprawled with his arms and legs chained, still managing to look completely comfortable. The dark burn patches that had mottled his back, legs, and buttocks were already fading, and the soft snores coming from the prone transgenic just served to enrage Ashkovich more. Unable to contain his fury, Ashkovich moved to the still unconscious 529's gurney and thumped his now tightly wrapped ribs with one meaty fist. 529 cried out, trying to curl around his side but prevented by his chains from doing so. Instantly, 494's snores stopped.
Ashkovich turned back to the examining table, and met 494's wide awake glare with one of his own. He gestured to one of the guards. "Take another blood sample. Then, put him back in the cage." He struck 529 in the ribs again, wringing a tortured moan from the injured transgenic. 494 tensed, his restraints rattling menacingly. The guards surrounding him cocked their guns. He stilled.
Ashkovich nodded with satisfaction. "Now you see, yes? Even co-operation may not save your partner. But as long as he is alive, we have you where we want you." A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he motioned for his men to continue their work. 494 lay absolutely still as they withdrew the blood sample, and set about stripping off his restraints. He waited until all five metal bands had been removed, then struck.
494 came up off the table like fire made human, snagging the guard who had just released his right arm. Wrapping his hands around the guard's head, he twisted with lightning speed. He let the guard fall, and was on Ashkovich before anyone had a chance to move. He held Ashkovich in front of him as a shield, and Andrei leveled his Browning at 529's head.
"No, now you see." 494 hissed in Ashkovich's ear. "529's good health is protecting you, too, Mikhail. He's the only thing standing between you and your death. As long as he's alive, I have you where I want you, too. You would do well to remember that." he pushed the blond man away from him, into the arms of his guards.
Ashkovich struggled back upright, face flushed, but back under control. He nodded stiffly. "Back in the cage." he declared curtly. 494 just looked at him. "Andrei."
Andrei cocked the Browning. 529, finally awake, found himself looking down the barrel of a gun, and jumped, rattling his chains. 494 glanced at him, and found 529 looking back at him, eyes wide and confused. He sighed. "As long as we understand each other, Mikhail" He strode over to the cage and did the jump and hang routine again, until the floor was fumbled closed. Andrei eased down, but his dark eyes held a new, wary respect that 494 would have rather seen missing.
"So, now, you know what happens next, yes?"
494 braced himself and nodded, waiting for the remote to make its appearance.
"Andrei." Once again, just the name. But this time, Andrei brought up the Browning and fired in a motion so fast that 494 would have been hard pressed to match it. As it was, 494 moved to dodge, but the wall of the cage blocked him. The bullet took him in the lower left leg, and he dropped flat to the floor of the cage with an involuntary cry of pain. {Well, fuck. I didn't see that coming.} he thought as he tried to catch his breath and stuff the radiating pain from his leg into an appropriately ignorable compartment of his brain. "You know, I've never liked being shot." he said to the ceiling conversationally before rolling to glare at his captors.
Ashkovich smiled with satisfaction, watching the blood drip slowly from 494's leg to pool on the floor. "That should slow you down somewhat, yes? And now." he withdrew the remote and tossed it to a grinning Manatov. "Punish him. When you're done, clean up this mess." he gestured to the dead guard.
Manatov actually laughed out loud. "Oh, thank you!" he chuckled. 494 sighed again with resignation. 529 looked at the remote with fearful confusion. Manatov fiddled with some dials on the side of the remote, then deliberately and with great anticipation pressed the button.
494 had just enough time to hear 529's blurt of shock before the electricity hit him, contracting all of the muscles in his body and bowing his back. It was less intense this time, and he could feel the tingles spread across his body until it felt as though his skin was trying to crawl itself off of his flesh. Vaguely he could smell himself scorching where his shoulders and heels still touched the cage. Abruptly the electricity ceased, and he collapsed back against the cage, panting. He heard the scream of tortured metal, and something whinged off his cage. Weakly, he turned his head to look.
529 was fighting to get free of his table with all the power in his whole, genetically enhanced body. He was all but hidden by the knot of struggling guards. Muscles bulged as he twisted and fought. One leg was loose. The flailing chain caught one of the guards in the throat, and he dropped, choking desperately through his crushed windpipe. Andrei calmly walked up to the table, waited for his opportunity, and shot 529 with the ever present taser. 529 convulsed and went still. Out again. 494 turned back to the ceiling. {Another guard gone. Way to go, 529.} he thought calmly as he heard the injured guard's laboured gasping cease. His wounded leg spasmed and he twitched, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Twenty or so more to go." He snickered faintly.
Manatov heard him. "Funny, is it?" He wrenched the dial on the remote, and pressed the button again.
494 tensed, expecting to hear the crackle of rampaging electricity. Instead, he heard a faint humming and felt a tickle along his back, not unlike a shock from a light socket. This time he laughed out loud, with deep, roaring bellows, turning to look at his tormentor. "Turned the knob the wrong way, Manatov?" he chortled. "I gotta say, yeah, pretty funny from here."
Manatov gave an inarticulate noise and spun the dial in the other direction until it could go no further. "Right way now, asshole." he said in a low rage filled voice, and pressed the button.
494's world went away in a wash of white pain.
511 pulled off his headset and ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. He looked at his hands, unsurprised to find them shaking. He heaved a deep breath. "Christ." He looked at his canteen, threw it into the cliff wall with all the force he could muster, 494's incoherent scream of pain still ringing in his ears. The violence did little to soothe his distress, though, and he choked back the urge to vent his frustration on the remaining equipment littering the campsite. Finally he snatched up the satellite transceiver and called in.
"Hot Zone to base. Hot Zone to base."
This time it was Lydecker right away. [Go, Zone.]
"Unit six has been shot." {Oh... and electrocuted. Don't forget electrocuted.} "And they've been hitting him with electricity." 511 dropped to one knee for better reception.
[What is his status?]
"Hurt, sir. But still yapping."
[Wait it out, Zone.]
"Request permission to initiate retrieval." 511 crossed his arms over his knee and leaned until his forehead rested against his forearms, as he rocked himself slightly. He already knew what the answer was going to be, but he just couldn't quite keep himself from asking.
[Negative.] Lydecker's voice was unexpectedly sympathetic. [Has he shown any signs of being sick yet?]
"No, sir. It's been eight-plus hours."
[It should be soon.] Lydecker's sounded grave. [It's going to get worse before it gets better, Zone. Hang in there. Base out.]
511 stared at the now silent set and wanted to scream. {When I get home, Deck, you and I are gonna talk.}