Too Far Gone
Part Two
Previously:
"Permission to speak, Ma'am?"
"Granted."
"Why me, Ma'am?"
"Ah, 452. You have settled in here so well. You have completed every mission in record time and with great success. You care for and lead your unit extremely well and the directors and I can see they respect you. It is the natural choice. You have become the soldier we all knew you could be." She replied, a smug smile on her lips.
"You and 511 will report to my office tomorrow at 0700. I will bring you up to speed on your mission parameters at that time. Dismissed." With that, she flicked her hand at me, signalling that I was free to go.
I walked down the dark hallway towards Biggs' room. We had to talk.
Biggs
Cece and I left Crash not long after Max went in search of Alec. Come to think of it, that in itself was a weird occurrence. I looked at my girlfriend and smiled.
"Cece, I'm sure glad we never had such drama in our relationship!" I said, chuckling.
Cece looked at me questioningly. "Whaddaya mean, Biggs?"
"Alec and Max. They're worse than a Shakespearian play. The bickering, the banter, the fights…There are enough sparks between those two to power the entire city of Seattle ! And what was up with Max tonight anyway?"
Cece shrugged. "Who knows? She was acting really strange. Y'think she got a clue finally?" she asked, thoughtful.
"Hell, I hope so! Um, so what say we go home?" I said, winking suggestively.
Cece laughed as she pulled me by the arm towards our apartment building.
We were about halfway home when I remembered I'd forgotten my jacket at Crash. I turned to Cece.
"Hon, why don't you head home. I've gotta go back to Crash to get my jacket. See ya soon?" she nodded and walked off.
I got to Crash and went inside, my eyes sweeping the room for any trace of my friends. They must have all gone home. I approached the bar to ask the bartender about my jacket.
"Hey, Mike!" I called. "Anyone turn in a brown leather jacket? I can't find mine."
"Biggs, my man! Sorry buddy. But you can check the back entrance. Sometimes lost and found items show up there." Mike smiled as he dealt with another customer.
"Thanks. See ya 'round". I said and headed to the back of the bar.
As I neared the rear exit, I saw my jacket hanging on a peg. Thank God I thought. I'd have been more than a little pissed if I'd lost that jacket. I took a bullet from a guard stealing it and I didn't have any plans on going through that again in my immediate future.
I noticed the open door as I was pulling the jacket over my shoulders. Tilting my head, I faintly heard the sound of someone whimpering. Quietly, I opened the door and looked around.
The back alley behind Crash was dirty and dark. Steam poured out of a myriad of pipes that lined the walls. A stray cat jumped off a nearby dumpster. The smell of garbage was strong and repugnant.
Ugh, get me back to my girlfriend! I thought, wishing I'd gone home with Cece and forgotten the damn jacket. I could have been in her arms, breathing in the sweetest of scents, but no, here I am in a stinky alley, following the sounds of…
I was brought out of my reverie by the increased whimpering that had led me out here to begin with. I walked toward the noise, treading softly. I peered around the side of the dumpster to find a huddled form, shaking uncontrollably.
"Are you ok?" I asked, bending down to touch the shuddering body.
"I am now" came the reply. The face twisting up at me sneered. I reeled backward and fell.
I looked up into the barrel of a gun. I closed my eyes, waiting for the shot that would surely end my life. There was a blinding pain as the bullet struck my shoulder. The last thing I remember was screaming "Cece!" before I succumbed to darkness.
I woke up alone, and in tremendous pain. My body hurt. I was covered in bruises and cuts. My head felt like it was going to explode. My eyes stung.
I looked around the room, noticing the bed I was laying on, a lone table and chair and some shelves on the wall. There were three sets of fatigues, folded neatly, three t-shirts, a belt, some socks, underwear, and a pair of combat boots. The walls were a light grey color, depressing really, but otherwise bare.
I didn't recognize my surroundings. I got up off the bed, wincing from the pain and hobbled over to the shelves. I picked up a t-shirt and shook it out. There, staring back at me, taunting me, was an identity tag sewn into the collar.
511.
My designation.
Manticore?
Oh god, no! I thought. I raised my already bruised fist and slammed it into the concrete wall of my cell.
My prison.
I'd never been in Psy-Ops before. But I'd heard enough about it to know that I wasn't supposed to remember the things I was remembering. Like my name for instance. I know my name is Biggs. Hell, I chose it myself! And the fact that I had a life on the outside before being captured. Maybe this was all part of the torture process. Giving me a tiny slice of my memories but never enough to satisfy me.
I close my eyes and lay back on my bed as I try to remember…
God, it hurts! Please help me remember! There is a girl. I know there is. She must be beautiful. Yeah, must be. She is! She is! Aaaaaahh! Why can't I remember her, her name? An apartment, a bed with light blue sheets. The sweetest of smiles. Those lips…but I can't see them. Why can't I see them? Oh god, why can't I remember! …He's laughing. My best, bud. We're playing pool. I can see him standing there. Tall, good-looking, cocky. He smirks. He does that, of course he does. He's a real character, my best bud. God, what's his name? He…he's…DAMMIT! HELP ME!
I was always a good soldier. I followed orders, fulfilled my duties, went on missions, was successful. I'm still a good soldier. I've had a taste of freedom, but I accept the fact that I'm back in soldier mode, full time. I have to be. My survival depends on it.
Lost in thought, I'm startled by the light tap on my door.
"511, Director Renfro wants to see you in her office, right away."
I looked at the guard and nodded. Rising from my bed, I open the door and stride out into the corridor.
It's late and the other members of my unit, Unti 7, are in the rec room enjoying a leisurely evening of pool and TV. I wasn't up for games this evening, preferring to lose myself to thought, trying to provoke memories from my battered psyche. Anything to lessen the pain of knowing but not knowing, of remembering, but not remembering.
I raise my hand and knock on Renfro's door.
"Enter" she calls from within.
I open the door and immediately stand to attention.
"X5-511 as requested, ma'am" I state my designation, knowing that this bitch of a woman would expect nothing else.
"511 do you know why I've summoned you? We have captured the rogue X5-452."
Renfro stares at me, almost as if I'm supposed to know this rogue X5. I've heard of her, hell we all have. The infamous traitor, escaped in '09 with 11 others. I remain still, my face impassive. This seems to appease her and she continues.
"452 has been through Psy-Ops and reindoctrination and is now ready to join her unit. See to it that she is taken from her current quarters in isolation to meet Unit 7."
"Permission to speak, Ma'am?"
"Granted." Renfro nods curtly.
"Ma'am, is it wise to put the rogue in with a unit as advanced as Unit 7?" I enquire, thinking of the ten extra years of training we all have. Wouldn't she just slow us down? Get us into serious shit if she isn't up to par the thoughts run unbidden in my mind.
"This is my decision. X5-452 and her fellow traitor X5-599 could have been the cream of the crop here at Manticore had they not escaped in '09 and had they followed through with their training. They were exceptional. I have every belief that we will all benefit from this. You are dismissed." She flicked her wrist at me and looked down at her papers.
I took that as a signal to leave.
I approach the isolation ward in trepidation. This place gives me the creeps. Having been here myself, not so long ago, I can't help but feel sorry for 452. Being left alone to your with just your thoughts and memories to keep you company can be torture. Torture that I unfortunately, still experience every night as I lay in my room.
452 is a legend. True, we hated the escapees for what they caused their twins to suffer, what they caused us all to suffer after they broke out in '09. The tightening of security, the increase in training, the punishments. The directors figured if they managed to escape, we obviously had it too easy.
They taught us to hate the rogues. Drummed it into us day after day. And so I wonder, who is 452 and what is she like?
I open the door of her cell and my eyes widen in surprise. She's beautiful. Ok, so all the girls at Manticore are beautiful, it's how they were made. But 452 is almost exotic. Small build, brown, almond-shaped eyes, full pouty lips, luscious dark hair.
I beckon to 452 and she follows me out into the hallway. I can't help but think she looks vaguely familiar. I push the thought away as we reach the rec room. Opening the door, we step inside. All eyes suddenly on me as I turn to her.
"X5-452, welcome to Unit 7." I say. Slowly I point out our C.O. and 2IC.
I look at 452 with intensity. I can see her shiver. Does she feel it too? I know this girl. But from where? Hoping to get a response, some recognition, I announce, "My designation is 511…"
