RATING: PG 13
AUTHOR: Sólia
STORY: What would have happened if, when the whole crew was in the wall in the first movie, Trinity had rushed to the aid of Morpheus, rather than forcing Neo to leave him? Read to find out my opinion.
Chapter Two
They had left her. The two had left her the one time she was helpless. Some friends. Morpheus and Neo had just left her in a group of guards with her hands cuffed uselessly – and they had done nothing for her.
One of the armoured guards gave Trinity a look of contempt from across the van. While being arrested, she had viciously kicked him in the leg, fracturing a bone. Good, she hoped it caned. She said as much. Another guard gave her shoulder a shove, and she gave him a malevolent glare.
"Don't touch me," she snapped, glad that she hadn't been fitted with a gag. It probably would have been wise on their behalf to keep her as helpless as possible, after everything she was going to be charged for, but they had decided that with handcuffs and with her ankles secured, she was harmless. Showed what they knew about her. Some terrorist-psychologist the suited man was.
"You aren't in a position to be making demands, lady," the man beside her answered grumpily.
"You know something I remember as a kid?" Trinity asked bitterly. The men looked up. The psychologist seemed interested to hear about her childhood – maybe it would explain why she was where she was today. Ha, not likely.
"What do you remember?" he asked, his 'hidden' tape recorder flashing in his pocket beside his hand, signifying that she was being recorded. Not that she cared. She'd be long dead before this reached court.
"I remember learning at school that if I ever needed help I could count on the policemen," she answered simply. "So why am I sitting in the criminal containment area of a police van with handcuffs on and with every damn part of my body killing me? You know that on the street, if a group of people bash someone like this, it's called abuse?"
Trinity had been cuffed as soon as she was caught, but with only her kicks to protect herself, she had injured a few of her captors, resulting in a 'need' to be beaten repeatedly with a baton until she was safely, harmlessly on the floor. She also had a deep blue bruise on her jaw where the agent had punched her.
No one answered her. They just kept driving.
A while later, she wasn't aware of how long, she was jostled out of the back of the van and taken inside a tall building. She didn't notice much, except that the lobby was really modern and nice. However, she hated the agents and the military, which surely controlled this place, and that made her hate the building, too. She wished she had enough guns to destroy this beautiful lobby.
She was forced into the elevator and, once almost to the top, the guards practically dragged her along the corridors to the room she would be questioned in.
"You gotta admire these terrorist training facilities," one guard panted. He had a fat belly and was having trouble trying to drag the difficult Trinity down the hall. "Where on earth did they teach you to become so goddamn difficult?"
"Doesn't matter," she answered airily. "I'm supposed to be downright impossible." And with that said she dug her heels into the carpet, refusing to move. Eventually they got her to the doorway of the small interrogation room. She almost walked inside, determined to be as much of a pain as possible by only willingly moving when they least expected her to, but then she saw her interrogator.
Agent Smith.
"No!" she said angrily, jumping back and knocking into a few of her guards. "No, I won't!"
"Get inside, lady, it's just a questioning session," the psychologist said gently.
"No, it isn't," she snapped, still struggling backwards. "I know what he'll do to me! Let go of me! Let me go! I won't go in there!"
"We are questioning you today whether you like it or not," Agent Smith said in his terrible, silky voice. He stood and approached his victim, causing her to go into an absolute panic, fighting her guards' holds on her shoulders.
"Not you!" she cried, stumbling back. She wished she had her hands free. "Anyone but you!"
The psychologist looked hesitant and uncomfortable as Trinity broke free of the guards only to step back against the wall of the corridor. Smith approached her.
"Sir, one moment," he said, stepping forward. The agent stopped and watched as the psychologist moved closer to Trinity.
"You're panicking," he commented. She turned her wild eyes on him. Duh. "This is unusual." He turned back to Smith and murmured something about himself interrogating her. The agent was reluctant but finally agreed, not wanting to look suspicious.
"If you believe it will get better results, then please, be my guest," he said doubtfully. "But don't harm her." Trinity knew why he looked so humanly disappointed as he walked off – he and the other agents were the only ones capable of getting the information they needed.
The guards pushed her inside and secured her to a chair.
"It isn't very comfortable," she said scathingly. "What ever happens to taxpayer dollars, anyway?"
The guards stepped outside and shut the door. The room was white. The two chairs were stainless steel, and there was a table between hers and the psychologist.
For a full minute he regarded her in silence.
"I'm not an art exhibit," she said finally. The man laughed, much to her surprise. She had never expected to have an interrogator with a sense of humour.
"I know," he said with a smile. "I'm just trying to figure you out. You're an intelligent, wise and attractive young woman – how ever did someone like you end up here?"
"I was arrested and was driven here in a police van," she answered. The psychologist laughed again.
"And you're funny," he added.
"Spare me the compliments," Trinity said, rolling her eyes, although she liked that someone thought that of her. "I'd have to be intelligent to escape this situation so many times, but I'm not wise if I got caught. And I'm not attractive or funny, I can safely assure you."
"What makes you say that?"
"These questions are not going to give you insight into my psyche, okay?" she said. "The answers will be of no use or interest to you, so cut to the real questions so that I can ignore you."
"Is that what you'll do if I asked you about your reasons for being inside that wall?" the psychologist asked calmly.
"Yes."
The man regarded her again, thinking.
"I'm Dr Hamish Garrison," he said after a while.
"Pleased to meet you," Trinity answered. She kicked at the table. She knew she was trapped. There was no way out of this. Soon, Morpheus would pull her plug. There was nothing she could do between now and then to save herself. Being deliberately annoying was something to do to fill in the time.
"I'm curious – who are you?" Dr Garrison asked. "They tell me you're a crazy, psycho terrorist who enjoys blowing up buildings, hacking mega-computers and taking part in mass murders. But you don't strike me as the type. Why would you want to do these random acts of destruction? Why would a young woman such as yourself become involved with someone like Morpheus and his followers?"
She said nothing.
"Please answer me. It's out of curiosity, really."
"Whatever," she spat angrily. "I know your type of law enforcer." She calmed herself. "But I'll answer you anyway. It's not like it'll hurt your little mind." She smirked. "My name is Trinity, and yes, I am the type who would blow up buildings and kill people. I have killed before and I'll undoubtedly kill again if released. You mentioned Morpheus and his followers as if they were separate from me, like from a different group. But you're wrong."
"How so? How does a terrorist network status ladder operate, anyway?" Dr Garrison queried.
"I am lieutenant," Trinity said moodily. "Morpheus trusts me above any of the others and most of the problems we cause are caused directly by me. So why bother questioning me? I'm confessing. I'm guilty, everyone knows it. Give me the lethal injection now, before I escape."
"You want to die?" The psychologist was shocked.
Trinity leaned forward.
"I know things you can't imagine," she said, wondering how easily he could be scared. "I know secrets. The only other ones who know these secrets are the agents. Like Smith. He knows the truth of this world, like me and everyone in my… cause, but unlike us he isn't on your side. He's in it for the system. I know you don't understand," she added, seeing the dumbfounded expression on Garrison's face. "You can't begin to know what I'm talking about. You pretend to be on my side by asking nice questions and telling me what a nice young lady I am. But you don't understand. This whole world is against you, against the human race, but you can't see that. The only hope for the blind are those who can see. You are blind – I have vision."
"But why do you want to die?" Dr Garrison was easily confused by the riddles – good.
"Because I'd die many times over long before I helped that bastard Smith," Trinity said. "He wants information, not that I have what he wants. So kill me. Wouldn't you rather die than be subjected to the torture he's about to put me through? And don't you shake your head at me. You don't know what he does. I've seen it before. He's done it many times before, to people I knew. Kill me before I drop dead."
"You'd rather die now than wait for the court hearing?" Dr Garrison asked her.
"Listen to me, you idiot!" she yelled, kicking the table legs again. "I won't be alive for the court hearing. If things go smoothly I should be dead by the end of the day."
"Will you calm down?" the psychologist asked urgently. "If they hear yelling in here they'll investigate, and that Agent Smith guy will come back. Do you want that?"
Trinity went silent. No, she didn't want to see Smith ever again in her short little life here.
"I'll make you a deal," Dr Garrison said carefully. "I'm studying criminal psychology at the moment. What's say I ask you a few questions about your life for my studies? I'm not actually allowed to, but you seem like the type who'll hold to your word."
"Who said I'd swear in the first place?" Trinity asked, determined to be as impossible as she could be.
"First question – do you have any close, romantic, sexual or friendship relationships at the moment within your group?" the doctor asked.
"Me? I wish," Trinity said. "There's this gorgeous guy I work with that I'm completely in love with, but… I've had enough now. No more questions. Lethal injection, please."
"What's his name? Is there an actual relationship there, or just one way?" Dr Garrison begged. "My studies could depend on this."
"Good for you. My private thoughts and my life are mine, and I'm taking it to the grave with me. Probably some time today."
"Listen, you were right, Trinity," Dr Garrison said with a smile. "I'm asking nice questions to pretend that I'm on your side. And you're also right in saying that I'm not really. Like I said, you are an intelligent and perceptive young woman."
"You never said perceptive," she said for the sake of being irritating.
"However, I also noticed that you have a strong fear of Mr Smith-"
"Agent Smith."
"Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that blackmail is the best form of interrogation for you," the man finished. He smiled a twisted smile. "You've proved yourself an incredible actor, pretending to be crazy. But you see, I've been acting, too."
The door opened and three more men entered. They shut and locked the door behind them.
"I am not a government psychologist," he said, standing. "I work for myself. I study what I want. And right now, I'm studying you. You intrigue me, Trinity. I hate it when I don't understand things. And I sure don't understand you."
"That isn't my fault," she said. "That's just a little gap in your intelligence, isn't it?"
One of the men behind her grabbed her by the neck and pushed her head roughly onto the table. She closed her eyes on impact and fought against the hold, but the man just managed to overpower her.
"You think you're so clever, going behind the government's back," Trinity managed, the side of her face pressed aggressively into the tabletop. It was cold against her cheek. "But they know. The government mightn't, but the ones you need to avoid do. You don't know what you're up against."
"We'll be fine, but thank you for your concern," Dr Garrison said smoothly. He took a needle from his friend and checked it. Trinity felt a wash of relief.
"Is that the injection?" she asked weakly. But Dr Garrison smiled.
"No, this isn't the lethal injection," he said. "This is one to help you relax, so that you can be of more help in answering me. Oh, stop struggling," he added with a laugh. He moved closer, needle outstretched. "It'll be over in a moment."
This was what she had been trying to avoid – except that agents' methods of interrogation were more foolproof and more painful than a simple needle.
Maybe someone working for the government might have an argument against this. She could only hope. As the tip of the needle pierced her skin she screamed; not because it hurt but for attention. Someone clapped their hand over her mouth, muffling the sound, and held her still. She struggled and kicked.
Why were her friends, back on the ship by now, surely, not pulling the plug on her? Morpheus, her captain, to whom she was endlessly loyal – where was he? Why wasn't he pulling her plug?
The others… Surely someone cared about her enough to stop this. It didn't hurt, but already she could feel the effects working. She was feeling weak and relaxed. What if she accidentally gave away the secrets of the Resistance while she was unable to stop herself?
And then there was Neo. She had woken up that morning and realised, quite suddenly, that she was in love with him. He would never know. Cypher might one day tell him the little he knew, but that was unlikely. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe he wasn't meant to know. Maybe they just weren't meant to be. But if she ever saw him again, the first thing she would do would be to tell him that she loved him.
The hands holding her down were taken away, and she was pulled upright.
"You're in way over your heads," Trinity said in a slurred voice. "You have no idea what you're messing with."
The four men just laughed at her.
Sólia