The Commandant
The Commandant paced restlessly back and forth, occasionally glancing towards the door when it suddenly flew open.
"You're late." he barked, closing the distance between him and 273.
"I was busy." she replied curtly, though a little winded. The amount of stairs that led to his quarters was ridiculous.
"You have orders. I expect you to follow them. Are we clear?"
"No. Not at all." Her reply was laced with sarcasm and it made him angrier. She was pushing boundaries, he knew that. After all, he did the exact same thing with Lucien. But it didn't make it any less irritating.
"You will obey, 273!"
"I have a name, you know."
Her response gave the Commandant a pause. No one has ever defied his orders. Neither has anyone ever objected to being just a number. Not openly, anyway.
"And what is your name, then?" he asked with no intent of paying attention or ever remembering it.
"It's Sparrow."
His plan would have been perfect if it wasn't for her name.
"What did you say?" he rounded on her. The Commandant heard her, of course, but he had to make sure. After all, this was impossible! Improbable that this was the Sparrow.
"Sparrow." she drew out as if he were deaf and dumb. Ordinarily, that would have irked him, but not this time. His fingers dug into her arms as he bored into her eyes, searching for a hint of lies, anything to prove her wrong. But there was only truth there.
"Impossible." he whispered in reply. Then letting go of her abruptly, he stormed over to his desk, slamming his palms on the flat of it. "Impossible!" Images, memories flashed through his mind, hazy at best, but still there. And along with the memories came the inevitable pain.
"Where is your sister?" he quietly demanded, not daring to turn around.
"How did you know-"
"Where is she!"
Silence followed his outraged response and the Commandant almost caved in, but he held his ground. He knew if he looked into her eyes, he would see her.
"She's dead."
Dead. The word rang hollow in his head. Dead.
"How?" he asked, digging into the desk for support to keep his voice from breaking.
"Lucien murdered her." Sparrow replied venomously, an emotion that did not escape his notice. Was that why Lucien wanted this? Was this their history? Their past? Hatred welled up within him. More than he thought possible. Anger at her, at Lucien, at Rose, and most of all, at himself.
After all these years, she had to come back into his life only to be torn away by the very man he served. Damn them all!
"Leave!" he ordered.
"But I-"
"I said leave!"
And for the very first time, she obeyed him. But it was a hollow victory. As the door slowly shut behind her, the Commandant sank to his knees, his heart beating for the first time in many years.