TEAM SPIRIT
Part 4
It didn't take Emma long to decide that she wasn't going to be able to escape. Brennan might have --the electronic lock didn't look like it was up against a sudden power surge-- and Jesse surely would have phased through the cracks. However, although she might be able to bend men's will to her own, the strong wire walls didn't give an inch. It didn't help that she was still feeling woozy and that her head pounded.
She wanted to smack herself when she remembered the com-link on her finger. It had to be some sort of drug that made her brain so slow on the uptake. With the ring, she could call Adam for help, and he could track its signal. This nightmare would be over soon.
It grated her, though, that she'd be forced to admit her teammates were right: she wasn't made for the physical aspect of Mutant X. She had tried, and failed miserably. In her head, she could hear Brennan explain why she couldn't play with the big boys. "We don't want you to get hurt, Emma." She gritted her teeth at the memory. They meant to protect her but being treated like everyone's kid sister was hurting her too. Only Adam didn't act like she was a defenseless girl. It wasn't much of an improvement; he usually seemed to consider her either like a daughter, or a very promising student who needed tutoring.
A door opened nearby, just as she prepared to call Adam. Light streamed in through the opening, and for the first time she could see further than a few feet beyond the walls of her cage. Curiously, she looked around.
They were holding her in some sort of Quonset building, she decided, judging by the curved metal walls and the small, high windows that showed a night sky. Several empty cages, similar to her own, stood nearby.
"I see you decided to wake up."
The man's voice was familiar, and Emma realized he was the one who escorted her from the club and shoved her into the van.
"Who are you? What do you want with me?"
He smiled, and the grin reminded her of a documentary about sharks she'd seen once. Emma struggled to repress a shiver. Even Eckhart never managed to look so cold.
"I have to thank you for responding to our message," he continued. "It's always a pleasure to find a pretty, female telepath. There are not quite enough of you out there, and demand is high."
Emma frowned. "Ariel isn't real? You set me up. You're not GSA, are you?"
"Looks ánd brains," he commented with a nod. "You'll fetch a good price. Yes, Miss DeLauro, the Ariel-personality is a decoy. And I'm not with the GSA. I'm... let's say, an independent contractor. In a few hours, you will be transported out of the country and commence your training. You see, my... clientele... feels that the addition of mental stimulation augments physical stimulation. Being with a pretty girl isn't enough for some. But pretty girls that give them pretty pictures, ah, see, that they will enjoy. And pay dearly for."
The frown on her brow deepened and she shook her head to clear it. The creep wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, was he?
"I don't understand."
"In time," he said, "you will. I suppose I could squeeze a quick lesson in so you will understand better what your position is."
Emma decided not to wait and see what the lesson could be. Judging by the look on the jerk's face, it wouldn't be pleasant for her in any way. She collected all the mental energy she could locate and flung it at her captor, calling up images of pain and torment that should have him begging for mercy.
What happened next was totally unexpected.
Instead of the moment of resistance and the successive 'pop' that she always experienced when accessing someone's mind, her power slammed into an unseen wall that was impenetrable. Emma grunted with effort as her power lashed back at her and she struggled to regain control. The fight brought her to her knees.
"Don't try that again. I've been at this a lot longer than you have. I learned to shield myself from your kind. It's why I'm the best at bringing in new subjects. Oh, and before you decide to try your power on one of my people instead, I should tell you that we injected you with a subdermal governor."
Her hand flew to the back of her neck. And sure enough, there it was, the little knob the governors used to receive the signal from their remote controls.
"You do know what that means, don't you? Your power belongs to whoever controls the remote. Currently, that would be me. And when you use it in a way I don't approve off? Zap!" He slammed one fist in the open palm of his other hand.
Emma eyed her captor with disgust. "Bastard," she hissed. She wasn't sure what a subdermal governor could do -- neither Brennan nor Jesse ever talked about their experiences with the things. Which told her more than anything they could have said. She didn't think she wanted to find out why they never spoke on the subject. The simple knowledge that her gift --the one thing she'd always counted on to get her out of a tight spot every time she was in trouble-- no longer belonged to her, was torment enough.
"Tsk, tsk," her captor continued. "Such foul language from such a pretty mouth. I guess you need a little demonstration of who's the boss around here.
She looked up at his face. The sharklike smirk was back in full force. She braced herself.
"Did I tell you that I control you? Not just your power. All of you. You belong to me, Miss DeLauro."
Emma merely stared back, uncomprehending and afraid to further provoke him and find out first-hand about the subdermal governor.
"Let's demonstrate that, shall we? Please, get up."
Not prepared to be obstinate over so simple an order, Emma got to her feet, swaying a little before she got firm control over her legs.
"Strip."
"What?!" She couldn't stop the incredulous laugh from escaping. "You got to be kidding. What are you? Some kind of pervert?"
His gaze didn't waver. He showed no anger at the further name-calling.
Much to Emma's surprised horror, her hands started moving without her telling them so. They drifted up, started undoing the buttons of her top one by one.
No!
Her mind screamed at her hands to stop, urged her to take back control over her traitorous fingers. She failed. One by one the buttons popped from their holes until she slipped the top down her arms and held it out to him. She could feel her cheeks heat up. Her bra and skirt were all that remained to protect her dignity.
Light sparked from her right hand. The ring! With rising dismay, Emma realized it was active. If anyone at the Sanctuary decided to call her right now, they would destroy her one weapon, the one thing that she had left to use against her abductors.
Quickly, she pushed the thought from her mind for fear that it would trigger the event. The ring was her last hope. If she couldn't reach anyone with it, at least as long as she wore it, it would tell Adam and the others her location. Without it, she'd be truly lost.
TBC
Part 4
It didn't take Emma long to decide that she wasn't going to be able to escape. Brennan might have --the electronic lock didn't look like it was up against a sudden power surge-- and Jesse surely would have phased through the cracks. However, although she might be able to bend men's will to her own, the strong wire walls didn't give an inch. It didn't help that she was still feeling woozy and that her head pounded.
She wanted to smack herself when she remembered the com-link on her finger. It had to be some sort of drug that made her brain so slow on the uptake. With the ring, she could call Adam for help, and he could track its signal. This nightmare would be over soon.
It grated her, though, that she'd be forced to admit her teammates were right: she wasn't made for the physical aspect of Mutant X. She had tried, and failed miserably. In her head, she could hear Brennan explain why she couldn't play with the big boys. "We don't want you to get hurt, Emma." She gritted her teeth at the memory. They meant to protect her but being treated like everyone's kid sister was hurting her too. Only Adam didn't act like she was a defenseless girl. It wasn't much of an improvement; he usually seemed to consider her either like a daughter, or a very promising student who needed tutoring.
A door opened nearby, just as she prepared to call Adam. Light streamed in through the opening, and for the first time she could see further than a few feet beyond the walls of her cage. Curiously, she looked around.
They were holding her in some sort of Quonset building, she decided, judging by the curved metal walls and the small, high windows that showed a night sky. Several empty cages, similar to her own, stood nearby.
"I see you decided to wake up."
The man's voice was familiar, and Emma realized he was the one who escorted her from the club and shoved her into the van.
"Who are you? What do you want with me?"
He smiled, and the grin reminded her of a documentary about sharks she'd seen once. Emma struggled to repress a shiver. Even Eckhart never managed to look so cold.
"I have to thank you for responding to our message," he continued. "It's always a pleasure to find a pretty, female telepath. There are not quite enough of you out there, and demand is high."
Emma frowned. "Ariel isn't real? You set me up. You're not GSA, are you?"
"Looks ánd brains," he commented with a nod. "You'll fetch a good price. Yes, Miss DeLauro, the Ariel-personality is a decoy. And I'm not with the GSA. I'm... let's say, an independent contractor. In a few hours, you will be transported out of the country and commence your training. You see, my... clientele... feels that the addition of mental stimulation augments physical stimulation. Being with a pretty girl isn't enough for some. But pretty girls that give them pretty pictures, ah, see, that they will enjoy. And pay dearly for."
The frown on her brow deepened and she shook her head to clear it. The creep wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, was he?
"I don't understand."
"In time," he said, "you will. I suppose I could squeeze a quick lesson in so you will understand better what your position is."
Emma decided not to wait and see what the lesson could be. Judging by the look on the jerk's face, it wouldn't be pleasant for her in any way. She collected all the mental energy she could locate and flung it at her captor, calling up images of pain and torment that should have him begging for mercy.
What happened next was totally unexpected.
Instead of the moment of resistance and the successive 'pop' that she always experienced when accessing someone's mind, her power slammed into an unseen wall that was impenetrable. Emma grunted with effort as her power lashed back at her and she struggled to regain control. The fight brought her to her knees.
"Don't try that again. I've been at this a lot longer than you have. I learned to shield myself from your kind. It's why I'm the best at bringing in new subjects. Oh, and before you decide to try your power on one of my people instead, I should tell you that we injected you with a subdermal governor."
Her hand flew to the back of her neck. And sure enough, there it was, the little knob the governors used to receive the signal from their remote controls.
"You do know what that means, don't you? Your power belongs to whoever controls the remote. Currently, that would be me. And when you use it in a way I don't approve off? Zap!" He slammed one fist in the open palm of his other hand.
Emma eyed her captor with disgust. "Bastard," she hissed. She wasn't sure what a subdermal governor could do -- neither Brennan nor Jesse ever talked about their experiences with the things. Which told her more than anything they could have said. She didn't think she wanted to find out why they never spoke on the subject. The simple knowledge that her gift --the one thing she'd always counted on to get her out of a tight spot every time she was in trouble-- no longer belonged to her, was torment enough.
"Tsk, tsk," her captor continued. "Such foul language from such a pretty mouth. I guess you need a little demonstration of who's the boss around here.
She looked up at his face. The sharklike smirk was back in full force. She braced herself.
"Did I tell you that I control you? Not just your power. All of you. You belong to me, Miss DeLauro."
Emma merely stared back, uncomprehending and afraid to further provoke him and find out first-hand about the subdermal governor.
"Let's demonstrate that, shall we? Please, get up."
Not prepared to be obstinate over so simple an order, Emma got to her feet, swaying a little before she got firm control over her legs.
"Strip."
"What?!" She couldn't stop the incredulous laugh from escaping. "You got to be kidding. What are you? Some kind of pervert?"
His gaze didn't waver. He showed no anger at the further name-calling.
Much to Emma's surprised horror, her hands started moving without her telling them so. They drifted up, started undoing the buttons of her top one by one.
No!
Her mind screamed at her hands to stop, urged her to take back control over her traitorous fingers. She failed. One by one the buttons popped from their holes until she slipped the top down her arms and held it out to him. She could feel her cheeks heat up. Her bra and skirt were all that remained to protect her dignity.
Light sparked from her right hand. The ring! With rising dismay, Emma realized it was active. If anyone at the Sanctuary decided to call her right now, they would destroy her one weapon, the one thing that she had left to use against her abductors.
Quickly, she pushed the thought from her mind for fear that it would trigger the event. The ring was her last hope. If she couldn't reach anyone with it, at least as long as she wore it, it would tell Adam and the others her location. Without it, she'd be truly lost.
TBC