Hello everyone.
So here it is. The chapter I promised. all 4300 words of it
I edited and re-edited this probably about four times, and had Xabiar edit it twice, trying to get it right.
Also for anyone who is not familiar with them, Xabiar is my beta reader, and is amazing and you should follow and read their stuff. Just saying.
Any who. I reeeeally do hope you enjoy this one, and that all my work was for not.
Feel free to leave reviews with an comments you have, as well as anything I can do to improve it.
More chapters will be coming soon, And a BIG thank you to everyone who sent me messages while I was away.
Really helped me get back to the keyboard so to speak.
Best Regards
Alex Lee
Something, Something, Something, 2024
(What is time?) Hours
Journal Entry 395:
Hello again.
So, I'm not dead.
That fact in it of itself is kind of surprising, as I thought for sure Lock was going to destroy me with the efficiency of a first-world production plant the instant she laid eyes on me again.
She didn't, though, and even stranger, she didn't even try to exact some form of revenge on me during our training session that day either.
There was no running laps until I died of old age, no shooting me thirty more times than usual on the obstacle course, and no arbitrary increase in the weight limit for strength training.
Which I suppose begs the question of what exactly she did do.
Well, in the biggest turn of events this world has seen since the aliens first invaded, the single deadliest solider in the entire resistance simply sat me down, and talked things through.
And no. She did not threaten me with pain and death to write this either. She and I actually had a real and honest conversation.
Hell, she even opened up a little to me. Nothing deep, mind you but enough to get us back on track.
And no. I'm not joking about that. It really did happen exactly like that.
It actually started during breakfast, believe it or not. Just after we sat down with our trays loaded with food...
"Private Drew G Crawford. Enrolled Sunday, February Seventh, Year twenty-twenty-one, to Trainee regiment one-o-five." She stated, the dates and facts rolling off her tongue with practised ease. "Twenty months later, you were reassigned to Training Regiment one-o-eight. The same training regiment that I was a part of for roughly eleven months, before I was reassigned back to XCOM, in order to take command of Squad Lockdown."
She paused to take a deep breath before continuing on. "I thought you seemed familiar when we first met. But it wasn't until you called me Anomaly that I was able to pinpoint where I knew you from. You're that one guy who was always trying to beat me in training, aren't you?"
I paused mid bite to glare at her, before shrugging in response and returning to my meal.
She may be quite enamoured with herself, but it didn't really surprise me she had figured everything out. It was a pretty obvious hint I had dropped her, after all.
No, I was more interested in what she was going to do with this information now that she had it.
Clunk
I glanced up just in time to see Lock very deliberately place her cutlery down in front of me, and fix me with her piercing stare.
"Look," she sighed. "I know you're not the biggest fan of me right now. But please hear me out on this. I'm not trying to pull anything funny, I just want to get all of this,"she gestured between the two of us. "Out of the way so we can move forward. As... partners."
She spoke the word partners as if it was a foreign concept. Something that she knew of, but didn't quite understand.
A loud snort in disbelief was my only retort.
I mean really? Did she actually think I was dumb enough to believe that miss independence would suddenly just want me as her partner? Right. Sure. Maybe when hell freezes over.
"Ok, fine," she relented under my gaze. "Partners may be optimistic right now, but we are going to have to work together in the future no matter what. Whether we like it or not, you're a member of my squad, and that means I can't continue to keep you in the dark and abuse you like I seem to have been doing. It's not fair, nor is it professional. And for that I am sorry."
My eyes narrowed further and further as she spoke. This was not the Lockdown I had come to know over these past few months.
The Lockdown I knew was fiercely independent and loved to prove her prowess. She didn't apologize or feel remorse for beating me to a pulp. No, she reveled in winning again and again. She relished in the opportunity to prove her superiority over and over. She didn't need a partner, she simply needed an audience.
"You're right. I normally am very independent," she admitted, nodding a couple times to further show her compliance. "And I also don't apologize very often either. But as I said, things have changed. I told you on your first training day: This operation hinges on you not only becoming as physically capable as me, but also mentally conditioning yourself to think and act in a similar manner to me. I guess yesterday just made me realize, that that's not ever going to happen if you don't, A: Know anything about me, and B: Don't trust me."
I blinked a few times, caught completely off guard by her sudden admission, and my own confusion.
Had I been speaking out loud the whole time?
I shook my head a few times to clear the confusion I was feeling. "Fair enough," I nodded. "So let's say that I believe you then. I'm not saying I do, but let's pretend that I did. Where do we start?"
"Well," she shrugged. "I don't really have a plan, per-se. Just kind of figured we would talk and work things through like the adults we are. Though I do get the feeling that you might appreciate me explaining to you why I'm training you the way I have been."
"It certainly couldn't make things any worse." I agreed, setting my food aside to show her that she had my undivided attention, then gestured for her to go on.
"Right, ok," she began, taking a deep breath. "First off, according to the lab rats, the genetic modifications that you will be receiving are going to be very similar to my own. That means you will probably be getting at the very least, a substantial increase to both physical strength and physical speed, enhanced eye sight, reaction time boosts, and probably adaptive skin cells. Of course this is all subject to change so don't take my word as gospel."
"Way ahead of you there." I muttered under my breath.
"Anyways," she glared. "The training I'm putting you through, is designed to help prepare your body for the addition of those specific mods. For example, the strength training you're doing, is specifically designed to help you brain adapt to the new weight limit you will have, at a much faster rate."
"Riiiiiight," I mockingly chuckled. "And let me guess? The paintgun is not actually for hurting me, but simply to help hone my reflexes?"
"Pretty much," she nodded in agreement, ignoring my obvious mockery completely. "The obstacle course as well. In theory, by forcing you to focus on more than just what you see, I am slowly training your brain to process more information at a faster rate. That increase should aid you in dealing with your significantly increased reaction time a lot better."
"Oh, how nice of you," I bit back. "So you expect me to believe that all this bullshit was to try and help with my up and coming operation?"
"Pretty much, ya," she affirmed. "Even the endurance runs."
I cocked an eyebrow in her direction.
"By training your body to function at various speeds and levels of exhaustion, we can ensure that the moments of running are ingrained into your brain," she rattled off her explanation cleanly, and with zero hesitation. "Thus helping to reduce the risk of injury while you're working towards maxing out your body's new top speed."
I nodded slowly. Unfortunately for me, it did make sense. Physical changes like the ones I would be going through required a break-in period. It only made sense that some major prep work would go a long way in helping with recovery and transition time.
Still though, there were some discrepancies in her explanation.
"What about the sparring and the rifle drills then?" I shot back. "Were those also part of your master plan?"
"No." She replied sternly, locking eyes with me once more. "But the Commander necessitated that you be as competent as me in all schools of war, so it made sense to fill in parts of the day with some more focused combat training."
"Of course he did." I muttered, turning slightly away from her to think.
"I will fully admit that I fucked up though."
My head snapped right back around at those words, coming to rest on Lock's head bowed in apparent shame.
"I ran the drills with you, not to try and break or humiliate you, but to try and give you an idea of what you would be capable of."
Glancing up at me, she made brief eye contact before continuing on. "I realize now how patronizing and demeaning it must have been to be beaten again and again in such unforgiving fashion. Especially in front of the other trainees and members of XCOM. And for that I am sorry."
"Yah," I agreed, frowning at the gnawing sensation in my chest. "You did fuck that one up. Though I suppose I should have also told you about it, rather than just slog through week after week of it." I let out a deep sigh. "So you're not entirely to blame. For that one anyways."
She chuckled at little at my half-assed apology, small smiles creeping out onto both of our faces.
"Though I have to ask," I continued. "What was the point of the rifle training?"
"Oh." She glanced away from me. "Well, those drills were just to help maintain your shooting skills," she chuckled, sheepishly smiling at me. "Can't have you getting rusty now, can we?"
I rolled my eyes dramatically in response. "Right, because having me shoot after a full day of training is a great way to improve rifle skills."
She raised an eyebrow at me in response. A knowing smile gracing her lips as she sat back in her chair. "You would be surprised..." she stated softly.
I smirked slightly but kept silent. Both of us seemed content for the moment to take a brief pause and process everything that had just been said.
Lock, she seemed genuine in her speech. Of course I never really got a solid read on her in the first place, so she could very well be faking it. But still. Something about the whole situation made me want to believe her...
"Ok, say I believe you." I began, watching as she perked up a little at my sudden statement
"Why do all this for me then?" I quietly questioned. "The Commander, if I remember correctly, only ordered you to train me to be like you. Not to prepare me for the procedure. The Lab Rats didn't mention prep work or training like this either, so clearly this is something of your own design. And as far as I know, you owe me nothing. So why any of this for me?"
A sad smile crept onto her face at my question. "You're absolutely right." She stated firmly. "Those were my orders. And it's true the Lab Rats don't actually have any prep work for this procedure."
I cocked an eyebrow at this admission, gesturing for her to continue.
"Look, you have to understand," she explained. "I went through the same things you're going to. I know what would have helped me better than the Commander or the Lab Rats. And I'm not going to let them make the same mistakes with you, that they with did me."
A pause.
"Not again." She firmly stated, conviction dripping off each word she spoke.
Her admission stunned me.
I had never seen Lock display this level of devotion to anyone. Except maybe her squad mates, but that was different. Clearly something about the upcoming procedure brought up some bad blood or bad memories. Which begged the question: Just what the hell had happened to her during those first trials of the genetic modifications, and what was going to happen to me?
"You know you're a part of this squad too, right?" She asked suddenly. "Just because you haven't been on a sortie with us, doesn't mean I don't care about your well-being."
Blinking a few times, I glared suspiciously at her. "Ok, how the hell..."
"Magic." She answered quickly while smiling and waving the question off as if nothing had happened.
I glared suspiciously at her. "You know keeping secrets is not exactly the best way to get me to trust you, right?"
"I know" she replied, a small frown creasing her face. "Just trust me on this one though. You don't want to know just yet."
Fixing her with a frown of my own, I let out a deep sigh. "Ok fine. I won't ask." I began slowly fixing her with as serious of a stare as I could muster. "But. Only if you promise to tell me about it when you can."
That statement gave her pause.
I could see her frowning at my demand, but considering it nonetheless.
"When I can." She finally agreed with a nod.
"Alright" I acknowledged. "So. What's the plan then? Where do we go from here?"
She chuckled a little before opening her arms up wide. "Honestly? I have no fucking clue. The last time this happened, he and I just took the whole thing from the top again. But that's not exactly a plan so to speak."
I rolled my eyes, and with a laugh extended my hand to her. "Well that's as good a plan as any. The name's Drew Crawford. And I'm the bastard that you beat in training all the time."
She laughed quite loudly in response to that before taking my hand and shaking it quite vigorously. "Names Lockdown. And I'm the bitch who you haven't yet beaten in anything yet."
I chuckled a bit at her retort. "Not even going to grace me with your name. How rude."
"A girls got to have some secrets, you know." She winked playfully at me, before grabbing her cutlery from the table and beginning to eat again. I mirrored her actions, scarfing down food as fast as I could.
"Ok, first question: What made you join the army?" She suddenly inquired in between bites.
I raised an eyebrow in her direction. "So your idea of starting out again is to either interrogate me or play twenty questions?"
An impish smile crept across her face at my comment. "Maybe," she agreed. "I will warn you now that I'm not the best at social interactions."
"Roger that," I mock saluted, before leaning back in my chair and clasping my hands behind my head. "Well, I hate to say this but, my reasons for joining are a bit, shall we say, strange. Though I suppose the main reason I joined is pretty normal. I mean how many people do you know, who can just sit around at home waiting for their own demise?"
A frown founds its way to Locks face as she processed what I told her, "That's honestly not that strange..." she mused, fixing me with a care to explain stare as she spoke.
I chuckled a bit at her expression before leaning a bit closer. "Don't worry, that wasn't the only reason. I also joined to keep my friends and family safe. As well as to get a bit of excitement into my life."
Now it was Locks turn to look confused. "You joined, partially because you were bored? Well I suppose that's a bit extreme of a measure, but I can't say I don't understand what you mean."
She chuckled a bit, when I sent her my own "You gonna explain?" look.
"I just mean I get that normal life is boring," she admitted, pausing to scratch the back of her neck. "I was a bit of an adrenaline junkie myself when I joined. Probably a good thing I was too, since now-a-days I get all the excitement I could ever want and then some."
"Scandalous words there, Lock," I teased. "Too much talk like that and everyone might start to think you are only here for the thrills."
"Right, because you're one to judge me," she chuckled for a second or two, before reseating herself. "In all seriousness though, I mainly joined to try and protect my friends and family, same as you. Those alien bastards killed millions of us at the drop of a hat, and I refuse to let them kill any more people I care about."
I felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees just from the expression that now marred Lock's face.
If looks could kill, I'm pretty sure the table would be on fire right now.
"I agree with you there," I nodded, dropping the smile and opting for a more natural expression as I continued forwards. "I also get the feeling this might be a little more personal for you though, so I won't pry any further. But if you want to share, I'm listening."
"It's not really a secret," she all but whispered, visibly seething. "Nor is it that uncommon of a story. During the first days of the invasion, the aliens, they destroyed my home, my family and my entire town. So I aim to destroy theirs in return."
A feral grin overtook my face at her words. Her bloodlust washed over me in wave after wave, edging me onwards. "Well said, Lock," I agreed. "And if you don't mind the company, I would be more than happy to help you achieve that goal."
She smirked at my show of malicious intent. "I think that could be arranged." she nodded. "We can talk details after your gene mods are complete. For though now, let's get back on topic. I have several years worth of combat experience that I have to try and impart onto you. And I only have a few weeks to do so."
I let a wide grin envelope my face as I leaned back once again, "Alright then," I stated. "Let's get started then, shall we?"
"Roger that," she affirmed. "So the first thing you should know about me is my combat style. I mostly function as the squad's support sniper, which means high ground is the most important thing for me..."
As it turns out, we are actually very similar people.
Our mentalities, driving forces, and even beliefs all align to an almost scary degree. It kind of makes me wonder if the Commander knew that when he chose me, or if he just got lucky.
Looking back, he's definitely smart enough to manage it, but to know someone to that degree based off of just their file? That's almost inhuman skill.
Still. It was a very interesting experience. One that I doubt will be forgotten for a long while.
The first day that I met the real Lockdown. The one behind those icy smiles and frosted looks.
Honestly, despite the fact we probably almost killed each other, I think we came out a lot better for it. We may not be comrades just yet, but with a few more days like this, we might just get there.
I should be sleeping, 2024
(Why do I do this to myself) Hours
Journal Entry 407:
So about Lock...
I know, I know. You're both probably sick of hearing about her, but you know what? I think I'm finally starting to get her.
She compartmentalizes her life.
By that, I mean she keeps her work personalities and life completely separate from her real genuine side.
It's a pretty normal thing to occur, actually. A lot of cops and military personnel are known for compartmentalizing things, usually using it as a coping mechanism of sorts.
Where Lock differs though, is I think she's starting to lose track of which is which, and who she really is as a person.
Which to be frank, is not a good thing.
See, the Lockdown I have come to know over these past few weeks, and the Lockdown that I was trained by all those months prior, truly are completely different people.
The Lockdown I now know, is this socially awkward, mischievous and completely genuine woman who hasn't had anyone to call a friend, other than her squad mates, for longer than I can possibly imagine.
Hell, I honestly don't think that outside of Big Sky, she talks to anyone but the Commander and myself.
Which that fact in of itself is crazy. She's likable enough, yet seems to keep everyone around her at arm's reach. Almost like she's scared of getting to know other people, though I suppose that's pretty natural when you're at war.
This is the military after all. Each and every person you meet could be dead just a few hours later. It's a scary thing to consider, but sadly true nonetheless.
The other Lockdown though, oh dear lord baby Jesus have mercy on me. The work side of her is truly a terrifying beast.
She's cold, remorseless, and ruthless. Both in combat and in interaction. Her mission, whatever it may be at the time, is executed with a calculated efficacy that leaves her success as more of a normality rather than a question.
It's a stark difference between them, one that speaks to the horrors she must have faced on the battlefield, and elsewhere.
What worries me though is the prospect of losing one of those sides.
Without her human side, I have no doubt she would turn into a remorseless killing machine, executing anything and everything that got in her way. I also have no doubt that she would not stop until someone or something, put a bullet right in between her eyes.
On the flip side though, without her Rambo side, she would be much less combat effective, and probably have a complete mental break, if not worse, on her first real combat mission.
It's a crazy balancing act. One that I know could come toppling down on her at any moment, but she has somehow been maintaining since before I even met her. It's insane to even think about really.
My main question now though, is how in the hell do they expect me to become like that? To be able to throw away my morals and become a heartless killing machine at the drop of a hat?
It's not something that can be achieved overnight, I'll tell you that much. It takes months, even years of conditioning to get to her level, and even then most people end up cracking after too long.
I'm sure the Commander already has a plan for that problem, but it has me a bit worried nonetheless. Physical changes I can handle, especially if they are as amazing as what Lock has told me, but mental? I don't know what to feel about that one.
I suppose I'll have to cross that bridge when I get there.
Training has also improved drastically. Don't get me wrong, Lock still beats the shit out of me just as hard as before, but she's much more supportive about it.
She laughs at my dumb jokes and sarcastic comments more and more these day, even going so far as to make some quips of her own. She provides more feedback than just grunts when I fuck up, and even smiles a little more than usual.
Even the little things, like running beside me during training instead of ahead of all the time, or helping me back up after I get knocked down by her for the millionth time, they all go a long way to showing me she really does mean well.
Looking back, I said that a few more days like this and she and I could be considered comrades.
Well, I don't think that is the right word anymore.
She and I, whether we like it or not, are partners in this endeavour. Slightly weird, initially unwilling and supremely sarcastic partners, sure. But partners nonetheless.
No one can replace you guys though, so don't you worry. I'm still going to keep my promise one way or another. I will make a difference in this war.
I just wonder now if Lock can maybe help me make an even bigger one.
