A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I really, really appreciate your support. Thank you also to Rosalie and BK2U, who both reviewed this chapter at different points in time. You're amazing!
Chapter 15: Tris – Threatened
It has been a very long time since my simulations in Dauntless, but they come rushing back at this moment – at the sight of the guns aimed at Caleb's head. He freezes in terror, but he holds his position, still trying to shield me behind him, and I'm reminded of the selflessness he showed in my worst fear. The one where I had to shoot my family.
"Don't listen to them, Beatrice," he says hoarsely, as if the words are catching in his throat. "Just run, and don't look back."
But I already know I can't do that. Even without Nigel bleeding on the floor next to us, I know that I can't let my brother die for me, the way our parents did. I just can't.
"No," I tell him simply. Grabbing his arm, I hold him in place as I step beside him to face our attackers.
"We surrender," I say tensely.
They clearly planned this well. Our captors march us through the building to a large, windowless room where three others wait. There, they force us to change into new clothes, pulling wigs over our hair to make it even harder to recognize us.
"If either of you gets noticed, you both die," one of them states clearly, looking at each of us in turn to make sure we understand. Caleb hesitates only briefly before nodding, and I know he won't try anything. He may be willing to sacrifice himself to save me, but he doesn't want to get me killed any more than I want to do that to him.
So, we walk quietly with them out the back door of the building and onto the street. There's a gun aimed at each of us at all times – and kept hidden from everyone else – as we walk down the streets of this small city. I pay close attention to our route, hoping we have the chance to reverse it at some point.
Most of the time, we move with others who are fleeing from the shooting, but sometimes we find ourselves alone. Twice, someone in a security uniform passes nearby, clearly looking for us, but I don't dare to call out or even meet their eyes.
After five minutes or so, our captors lead us into an apartment building. It's much quieter than I've come to expect from Philadelphia, and I have to wonder if we're the only ones here.
They shuffle us through the empty hallways and up three flights of stairs, our footsteps echoing slightly in the silence, before unlocking a door and shoving us into the room beyond.
We're in a large open space that's filled with a variety of equipment. A computer sits in the middle, attached to an all-too-familiar apparatus, and on the outskirts of the room, large satellite dishes face toward the outer walls. It's a broadcasting setup.
A cold feeling sinks all the way through my stomach as I understand why they wanted to take us alive. They plan to have me broadcast a message of their choice, and they'll make me cooperate by threatening Caleb, as they've been doing so far.
I should have seen this coming. Anna was right that they don't have anyone powerful enough to counter Tobias' broadcast. Except me. I'm the only way they can regain their power.
"You know where they go," a man says gruffly, and my eyes focus instantly on him. He's older than the ones who captured us, and heavy-set, with gray hair that sits close to his head around a large bald spot. Everything about him says that he's used to being obeyed.
And the others in the room do exactly that. The hands grasping us haul us to two separate chairs that are facing each other. Both are built of solid wood – far too sturdy to break – and are covered with metal restraints. A quick glance at their feet shows that they're also bolted to the floor. Once we're in these chairs, we won't be able to escape on our own.
The thought makes me fight back, and it apparently has the same effect on Caleb. But we no sooner start thrashing than a woman near Caleb takes a knife and slashes it across his face. I freeze as blood starts flowing freely from the wound.
She takes a step toward me next, but Caleb has already stopped fighting.
"Don't!" he calls, panicked. "Don't hurt her! I won't resist anymore." But the woman just laughs.
"Too late," she snarls, moving closer to me, clearly intending to punish me for Caleb's behavior the same way she just punished him for mine. But I don't resist, knowing that it would just cause my brother more pain. Instead, I lock my gaze with hers, making it clear that I'm not afraid of her. It's probably a lie.
The older man speaks just before she can swipe me with the blade. "Leave her for now, Meghan." The woman stops instantly.
I should be relieved by the reprieve, but instead it makes my heart sink even more. It tells me that they want to keep me in good shape so they can use me. It's Caleb that they'll hurt, over and over until I cooperate. And I don't know how to withstand that.
But neither of us fights as they strap us into the chairs.
"Madam President," the older man sneers, looking me straight in the face once he knows I'm helpless. "You stole something from me. And now you're going to help me get it back."
A cruel smile forms on his face as he makes a gesture to the man who reminded me of Eric earlier. "Sam," he says simply.
Sam makes no direct response, but he turns toward Caleb without hesitation and drives a fist deep into his stomach. For a full second, Caleb sits rigidly upright, every part of him seemingly frozen, and then he sags against his restraints, a low groan coming from him as his face twists in agony.
It's almost impossible not to react, but I force myself to stay expressionless. They won't kill Caleb, I tell myself. They need him alive to try to make me cooperate. And that means that they can't hurt him too badly – not enough to really risk his life.
I hope.
But that doesn't make it any easier to watch as Sam slams his fist into my brother over and over, smashing his stomach and ribs and face. I don't lose my willpower until his fingers jab into Caleb's throat, causing him to cough and choke violently. Blood sputters from his mouth, and suddenly I can't take this anymore.
"Stop it!" I yell. "Stop! At least tell me what you want."
"Oh, I'm sure you know that already," the older man says softly. It's a dangerous kind of soft. "A smart girl like you…."
He gestures to Sam again, and I scream helplessly as he pounds another punch into my brother, who's still struggling to breathe. This one sounds like it broke a rib.
"The thing you need to understand, Tris," our tormentor says, "is that he will be punished for every second you delay, and for every little thing you do wrong." He gestures around the room and adds, "And we have all kinds of ways of punishing him."
To accentuate the point, Sam yanks a handful of hair from Caleb's head, sending the wig they put on him earlier flying across the room as he pulls the real hairs out by their roots. My brother has been incredibly stoic through all of this, but he screams in pain now. The sound tears through me.
"Don't," I gasp desperately, trying to think of some way to stop them. "Don't do this."
The whole situation seems utterly hopeless. We can't get out of here by ourselves, and right now it feels like no one will ever find us. All I can do is try to buy time.
"Just…please…tell me what you want," I plead again. "I can get you ransom money if that's it." It's a foolish offer, since I know it's not even remotely what they're seeking, but part of me hopes that if I act ignorant, they'll stop torturing Caleb while they explain.
It doesn't work. "Wrong answer!" the older man snaps.
With a grin that makes Eric look like a Saint, the man gestures to Meghan. She smiles back the same way as she pulls a piece of equipment closer to my brother. It's large, with wires and connectors hanging from it and dials covering its control panel. I don't want to think about what it does.
She takes her time connecting Caleb to it, clearly enjoying every second of the process. He tries not to react, but I can see his eyes roaming over it fearfully. He must figure out what it is, because he can't quite suppress a whimper. It cuts through my heart.
"No," I plead again. "Don't do this," but she never pauses.
When she finishes connecting my brother, she turns to the older man. "Mr. Larimer?" she asks calmly. He nods.
With a malicious smile, she flicks a switch, and then Caleb is writhing and screaming in pain as a buzzing sound of some type fills the room. Electricity, I realize with a sense of horror. They're electrocuting him.
"Stop!" I shout in wild desperation, unable to look away and unable to even think in the face of my brother's agony. "Just stop!"
I now understand why Tobias revealed the locations of the factionless safe-houses when I was being tortured in Erudite. He didn't have any more choice than I do.
"Tell me what message you want me to send!"
Mr. Larimer snaps his fingers, and the woman turns the machine off. Caleb slouches in his seat, not moving, and for one terrified moment, I think he's dead. But then he lifts his head enough to stare at me, silently begging me not to give in. I don't know what else to do.
Closing my eyes, I turn away from him, toward Mr. Larimer.
Our tormentor smiles again. "It's very simple, really," he says smoothly. "You will transmit a message stating that you are resigning immediately, and that the new president will be me." His grin widens. "Brian Larimer."
"You will transfer all power to me and will tell everyone to obey me without question."
"And then?" I'm surprised I'm able to ask that question.
Brian arches an eyebrow at me. "And then," he answers calmly, "you will do the same thing again in every town and city around the country."
Despite everything, the answer is strangely reassuring. If he needs me to repeat the message that many times, his current broadcasting setup must have a very limited range. And that means that if I do this, I'll only be affecting a small population – one that Brian will undoubtedly want to keep alive to help him get everything set up in the next town. And he'll keep Caleb alive, too, to ensure my continued cooperation.
The whole thing is incredibly risky, but I cling to the hope that no one else will die if I do this. And every broadcast I give increases the odds that Peter will hear it. I still don't know if I can truly trust him, but he's the only real chance I have at this point. He'll be able to track the message back to me the way Tobias and I did to find Dan Miter back in Philadelphia.
And maybe, just maybe, he'll do the right thing in response.
"Okay." I hate the defeat in my voice.
I don't try to fight as they connect me to the broadcasting equipment. It wouldn't do any good, and I can't cause Caleb even more pain.
"You'll do some test runs as well as the real message," Brian tells me clearly. "You won't know which is which, but I'll be able to hear what you say each time. If you do anything wrong at all…." His smile is pure evil. "You know what happens to him."
I nod, unable to speak. But my eyes drift over Brian's helpers, particularly the two who have been torturing Caleb. As loyal as they are to Brian, they must be under the influence of serum and transmissions, yet they clearly weren't affected by Tobias' broadcast. Why not?
But there's no time to dwell on the question. Instead, I focus on exactly how I'm going to do this.
Anna's words seem to be stuck in my mind – that the emotions behind a message control how effective it is. In this case, I want the message to look like I'm cooperating, without really working. Can I do that by projecting the wrong emotions to go with it? Or would it be better to avoid all emotions? And can I do that right now, with all the fear and anger I'm feeling?
I also think about how I was able to follow the signal back to the person doing the broadcast, and to see thoughts that they weren't actually sending. With both Dan Miter and Tobias, I could tell where they were located, and what their "next" level of thought was. If I can control that layer well, I can make sure that Peter – or anyone else resistant enough – can find me, without my captors knowing that I'm sending anything extra.
Brian signals that it's time to start, and I take a deep breath, calming myself the way I did in my fear landscape at Dauntless. There's no room for error here, even though the first time is probably a practice run.
Very carefully, I transmit exactly the message that Brian gave me. Until the moment I begin, I'm uncertain whether to include the wrong emotions or none at all, but at the last second, I decide to go with as little feeling as possible. Tobias included a wide range in his broadcast, after all, and the entire thing seemed to work very strongly. So, it seems safest to assume that any emotion could potentially make Brian's message more effective.
It's trickier to control the next layer of thought, but I keep it separate from the words, layering it above them as images showing the streets we walked on to get here, and the torture inflicted on Caleb. It's exhausting, but by the time I'm done, I'm hopeful that it worked.
"You're lucky that was a practice run," Brian snarls after I finish. "If you try that in the real thing, he'll fry until his hair is singed."
My heart races, but I keep my expression as blank as possible. "What do you mean?" I ask, trying to sound both desperate and innocent at the same time. There's a chance he's bluffing. "I sent the exact message you wanted."
He smirks, holding his hand up toward Meghan, who's waiting to electrocute my brother again.
"No!" I yell. "I kept my side of the bargain! I'm not going to do it again if you're just going to hurt him anyway."
For a long moment, we hold each other's gaze, before I add, "If you want me to do anything different, tell me what. But I won't cooperate if you don't keep your word."
I can see the hesitation in Brian's eyes, and suddenly I know that he was bluffing. He can't hear the second layer of thought at all, and he probably can't judge how effective a broadcast is, since I'm sure he doesn't have any serum in his system. He simply guessed that I'd try to do something, and he's hoping to scare me into not doing it.
But now he's not so sure.
"We'll try it again," he finally snaps, sounding vaguely frightened. I manage not to let any triumph show in my expression. He's just realized that he can't control me. Not completely, anyway. Not enough.
So, we repeat the process, again and again for a total of eleven times. It's far more tiring than I would have thought, but I'm careful to send the message exactly the same way every time. There's no way of knowing which one is the real one.
After the eleventh pass, they detach me from the equipment and put me back in the other chair, restraining me just as thoroughly as before. But at least they don't hurt Caleb again. Apparently, I was convincing enough for now.
Brian looks tense as he orders Sam and Meghan to watch us. He then takes the others with him and leaves, presumably to see if the townspeople are now willing to follow him. I don't know what result I hope he finds.
A/N: So, maybe it's not quite as much of a cliffhanger as the last chapter? Anyway, as I mentioned before, I'm trying very hard to update twice a week throughout the current action sequence, so I don't keep you waiting too long. In the meantime, please take a moment to leave a review. Those always motivate me to post quickly! :-)