Chapter 7 - The Challenge
Logan
That time I really did get the dressing down I'd previously avoided.
"You gave her a concussion! And you've still not made an attempt at fulfilling your assignment!" Striker roared, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth.
"With respect, Sir. It's not as easy as…"
"Not that easy? I've seen your squad knock-up at least a dozen women each across the decades, and your telling me it's not that easy?!"
"The situation…"
"The situation was completely under your control! We've eliminated all risk, your not seriously telling me that girl is too much of a challenge for you?"
I had to quite literally bite my tongue to prevent responding out of line.
"Well, sergeant. I'm disappointed in you… I really thought you'd have the balls to pull this off. I was wrong."
He paced before me, turning to face the row of monitors displaying the only occupied room from different angles. Marie lay in a drug induced sleep on the bed with a gauze dressing wrapped tightly around her head. The injury, although not serious, bled a considerable amount. Head wounds always did.
"You're lucky you she didn't fracture her skull, what where you thinking?" He shook his head. "This is a set-back we can't afford. Time is money, and the investors won't continue to fund a project that isn't advancing."
"You have my assurances it won't happen again, Sir."
"You're right it won't, Howlett. She's been reassigned. To someone I can trust to do the job properly."
I swallowed, "I thought I was your first choice?"
"You are, I just can't afford to waste anymore time." He reached over the the control panel and pressed a button. "Creed? Do you copy?"
"Yes, Sir." Came the chilling reply over the speaker.
"You know what to do."
All that came back was a dark chuckle.
I could only watch in horror as the screen showed Marie's door slide open then click shut behind Victor as he prowled into the room. It was like watching a horror movie but ten times as sinister because the foreboding and terror were about to become real.
Without waiting another second, I turned and sprinted down the hallway to the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time. Her piecing scream echoed through the corridors. Blood pounded at my ears and black rage swam up around me, dense, blinding, rage. I could even taste the phantom blood, coppery in the back of my throat, driving me forward, seeking her out.
I arrived just in time to pull Victor off of her, where she scrambled back under the bed, trembling violently.
My brother growled and took a swipe at me with his elongated fingernails. I wasn't having any of it this time. I released my claws and drove both sets deeply into his chest, feeling as they pieced through his lungs. He let out a gargled roar and stumbled back against the wall, struggling for each breath as blood slowly filled the remaining space he needed to survive.
