Hello! Any ROE fans still out there? More specifically, Julia from ROE fans out there? I've been busy writing her story since the end of ROE. It's quite the series. If you're interested in Julia's backstory, here you go! More to come later. The first book is already finished so updates will be prompt! Please forgive all the errors, it's still very much a work in progress!- Wild
Text Copyright © 2015 SAWild
All rights reserved.
First Edition: 2015
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Prologue: The End
December 24th, 2004
Fate. Destiny. Whatever you like to call it, there is no escaping it. When you're young, naïve and foolish, you believe that you can do anything; that your destiny is your own to create. Time and experience will eventually lead you to the truth; that life in its very essence 'is' the journey that leads you to the discovery that you are in control of absolutely nothing in this world in the end. You can change the road and the journey taken, but somehow, someway, you end up exactly where you were meant to be. No matter how hard you may have tried to fight it. It's inevitable. Everything that is meant to be comes full circle in time. You can delay it. But never escape the outcome of what has been written for you.
I wonder if everyone comes to this conclusion when they are facing the end as I am now, feeling the life slowly leaving me with every breath and beat of my heart as I lie in my own bodily fluids on the cold stone floor. I didn't know they kept a 'dungeon' several stories beneath its pristine marble façade bearing The Company motto, And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free. Ha! I laugh sarcastically to myself now thinking what that really means. There is only one truth. Death is the only thing that will ever set you free. I think about these things along with the peculiar taste in my mouth. A combination of sweet and sour as my blood intermingles with the vomit left behind from the last round of my 'Re-Education.' Funny, the things that' run through your mind at the end. I'm not sure if it's the residual side-affects of being electrocuted that have made things so fuzzy and yet clear at the same time or that it's more simply, because it's the end?
If I cannot control how I live, I will attempt with my last breath to at least control when I die. Killing me at this moment with their punishments was not part of their plan. But then, from the moment of my birth… no, that's not accurate enough. From the moment of my conception, yes, that's more accurate as they were even in control of that… I have rarely conformed to their plans for my life. So why should I start following along now, with my death?
I've lost everything. I have nothing left to really live for as cliché as that sounds and I smile slightly welcoming the blackness enveloping my eyesight as I stare up into their hovering faces screaming obscenities filled with both annoyance and concern.
"Julia!" They shout my name and angrily slap my already swollen and split cheeks repeatedly, trying to 'order' me not to die as my eyes close… but I feel nothing. I gladly welcome death. It is my last escape, my last attempt at controlling my own destiny. I won't be their property or project anymore.
Lights On
July 23rd, 1997
"Julia," Someone is whisper yelling in my ear. "Julia!" It becomes more forceful and I fight the fog in my head to open my eyes.
The room is dark except for a bright white light I see peaking through the cracks of the container doors nearly blinding me as my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. Muffled voices in what sounds like Chinese can be heard shouting things outside the giant metal container.
"Jules, we have to go!" Mikael whispers again with a flash of fear in his eyes as he helps to pull me into a sitting position. "Careful." He helps steady me when I wobble slightly.
There is a sharp stabbing pain directly above my right eyebrow and when I reach my hand up feel the warm sticky ooze of blood trickling down my forehead and into my eye. A deep gash has lanced the skin there and I'm quite certain I have a concussion from the blow I took to the head. The details are foggy as my mind races to put the pieces together about where I'm at, whom I'm with and how we got here. I don't have long to ponder before I feel the ground drop out from under us and this time we both wobble and grab hold of each other to steady ourselves.
"Shit!" I curse quietly looking around and rapidly realizing where we are and what is happening. We were inside a shipping container and from the feel of it, being swung through the air either being loaded or unloaded onto or from a ship. "Where are we?" I ask quickly and quietly with my face mere inches from Mikael's as we hold onto each other's upper arms to keep from falling over.
"Hong Kong." He whispers and can read the question in my eyes and answers before it's asked. "You took a pretty good blow to the head in Taipei. Knocked you out cold." His eyes flash with concern to the gash on my forehead checking the wound in the glints of light streaming in through the cracks that now as we're spinning in the air resemble a disco ball in this small space. I can see various toys and electronics in pallets surrounding us piled high and wrapped in plastic stamped with Made in Taiwan all over them. "We missed the ferry," He smiles softly at me, reaching up to wipe some of the blood from running into my eye, "So I had to improvise. We're on a container ship."
"So I gathered." I smile softly back and jolt forward when the container locks into place. Our faces are less then an inch apart and I kiss the corner of his mouth quickly and softly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The last thing I remembered was fighting with the three guards in the warehouse trying to subdue them while Mikael secured the package. I'd been doing a pretty good job of it from what I could remember but the gash on my head and no memory of getting into this container said otherwise. "What happened?" I ask quickly and quietly moving to touch my head.
"There was a fourth. He came from the side and hit you with his metal baton. He was about to hit you again when I shot him."
Our orders were to subdue and not kill but sometimes in our line of work it couldn't be helped. I felt badly for the man instantly even if he was trying to kill me. If I'd anticipated his presence and the blow I could have disarmed and put him down without having to kill him. I'd messed up and I was sure to hear about it from my superiors. My mind was on too many other things these days besides work. "My fault." I sigh shaking my head.
"No one's fault." Mikael reaches his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up to look at him. He reaches his arm behind me and before I know what he is doing he has flicked his knife open and is puncturing the plastic-wrap over my shoulder. His hand plunges in and pulls out an adorable plush stuffed lion and holds it out to me. "Happy 16th Birthday, Jules." He smiles in a whisper.
"So cute." I smile at both the adorable object in his hand and the thoughtful gesture. He knows I love lions. "Thank you. But you hold onto to it, please? I don't want to drip my blood all over it." I motion towards my still bleeding head and he laughes softly stuffing the lion into his black tactical vest with just its face sticking out of his body armor.
A sharp voice yelling just outside our container had the both of us frozen, unmoving and barely breathing as we followed the voice around the container as it moved closer to the doors. My hand slowly moves to my thigh and silently flicks the leather loop off my gun in its holster as my eyes stare at the light and the door on the other end. The motion of the man outside interrupting the light's steady stream filtering in on us and I hold my breath with anticipation ready to fire if necessary. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mikael's face disappearing in and out of the dancing shadows mimicking my own movements.
Certainly the Taiwanese Authorities would be alerted to our presence by now after things going wrong there and the most logical conclusion they'd have come to was that we made our escape from their country via the nearest point of exit from the warehouse. The shipyards. It wouldn't have taken them very long to realize that we'd likely be on the first ship out of there. It just so happened that the first ship out of there was also going to China and where we were headed anyway, though not the way we intended to arrive.
We were supposed to take the ferry, masquerading as a wealthy, young European couple on their honeymoon. Our plan had precisely timed out how long it would take to secure the package, leave the shipyards, board the ferry undetected, change rapidly and meet our contact for dinner on the ferry dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Von Houser precisely 1 hour and 24 minutes after Go on the mission.
Clearly that wasn't going to be possible with me bleeding profusely from the forehead and unconscious so Mikael was forced to divert from the original plan and improvise. Our contact would also have realized by now that we must have run into trouble missing dinner on the ferry and contacted our point person in China to go ahead with Plan B.
Now, I listen carefully to what the man was saying on the other side of the doors, wondering if he was looking for us having been alerted to our possible arrival. From what I could make out, he wasn't and instead yelling back to his friend about being pissed off that he was called into work to unload this ship when it was supposed to be his night off. He banged on the door and yelled once more and within a moment we were once again swinging through the air as the container was moved somewhere else.
When the container stopped moving we could barely hear any voices anymore and most of the light that had filtered through the cracks in the door was gone. We sat in silence in complete blackness for at least an hour before either of us dared to speak.
"Are you still bleeding?" He asks in a whisper and I can feel his hand feeling its way up my arm and along my neck to my face trying to locate my wound and gauge for himself my situation in the dark. Head and face wounds always produced a tremendous amount of blood with so many tiny vessels in such thin skin and the entire right side of my face and neck were now caked with drying and fresh blood.
"Yes, but its slowed some." I offer stilling his hand on my face just before touching the wound and causing me to wince.
Mostly, I had the most unbearable headache imaginable from what was most likely a skull fracture from the guard's baton. Stitches were definitely in order but those would have to wait. We had other problems more pressing at the moment. Like when was the right time to make our move and get out before we were shipped back to America in this steel box? I'd had to do that on more then one occasion already in my life, returning from various missions and quite frankly I was tired of being shipped. It was more like torture being contained inside a box, often pitching and swaying with the high seas for weeks on end, alone in the dark like solitary confinement and I had no desire to accidently be forced into it by missing our chance to get out now.
"We need to get out now." I voice in the darkness.
Mikael hits the illumination button on his watch and causes both our eyes to squint as they adjust to the sudden brightness. "If we wait another hour it will be close to their shift change and we can make our move then." He reasons with eyes flashing up to mine and seeing my face for the first time in any kind of real light since he'd pulled me into this crate. The blue illumination across his face made his reaction to what he was seeing all the more animated in its horror. "My God." He curses trying to move closer to me with his watch and face to inspect the damage.
"Is it really that bad?" I ask reading his face. The closer he comes with his watch light the more I squint as my right eye is slow to focus from the blow and the blood causing my eyelashes to stick together. I have to turn my face away slightly and he snaps his light off and it goes dark again.
"Yes. You need stitches now. I can clearly see your skull bone." He whispers rummaging around for his backpack and digging through its contents. "I need to put in at least a couple of stitches now to close it somewhat, until we can get you to a proper doctor." His fingers' find what they are searching for and clicks on a small flashlight that nearly blinds me once again aiming directly at me. The light was tiny, bright and precise like a laser beam and pointed directly at my face. "Sorry." He apologizes as soon as he turned the light on. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's okay. Try to do a good job," I tease him with a soft smile, "I don't want an ugly scar on my face from your terrible stitch job."
"Nothing could ever take away from your beauty." He smiles softly with eyes flashing to mine and then down again as he threads the needle in his hand from the emergency pouch.
"Thank you." I answer quietly with my own smile and avert my eyes. I know Mikael is in love with me. He's never been shy about hiding it. Like right now, in the way he's taking such good care of me going beyond his requirements to simply look after his partner in the field with his obvious and affectionate concern. He knows that I love him too, but we are forbidden from having any kind of relationship beyond best friends and partners. "You never have to thank me." He responds quietly and seriously breaking my thoughts and bringing my attention back to the matter at hand. "I'd do anything for you." He adds with eyes flashing up to mine and I know that is true.
I was the property of The Council and in being so, I had no rights or liberties of my own. Everything about my life was under their control, or at least supposed to be. But I wasn't very good about following those rules. I had other ideas and took pleasure in working around them to have my own life outside the one they designed for me.
At age 16, I'd already been in 'their service' for a great portion of my life in one capacity or another. At 14, I'd started breaking small rules here and there testing my limits and boundaries in seeing what I could get away with. Rebellion for any teenager, I suppose. Some boundary lines I found real quick. Others, I was still exploring.
Thus far, I'd been pretty successful in slipping under the radar most of the time. A lot of my success was due in part to having co-conspirators in the process who were also eager to live outside the boundaries. Mikael, a Council heir; and Nyah, Council property like myself, my other partner in the field, my best friend and Mikael's cousin via adoption. We were often called in certain Council circles, Mikael, Nyah and myself, the 'Three Musketeers' for always being together since we were small children and going through The Program together.
Mikael, for example was actually forbidden to be in the field like this with me on 'these' kinds of missions where he could be in such potential great danger, but his status within The Council also leant itself to us breaking those rules on occasion because those who were 'under' him were afraid to report back and the repercussions they faced once he became Head of his family's branch in The Council. He wouldn't take over for several, several years but nonetheless, his future position pulled great weight and had its perks and privileges as well as its problems.
Mikael's part in this mission was to only meet me on the ferry, pretend to be my husband and deliver the goods to our contact for sale. It was part of his training for his future post but as we'd often done of the last couple of years, we'd altered those plans a bit. Good thing, too or I'd likely have been bludgeon to death by the security guard in Taipei tonight.
"This is going to hurt, I'm sorry but I have to clean it first." His voice breaks my wondering thoughts again and I clench my fist preparing for the sting I know is coming when I see him slosh the alcohol onto the gauze pad preparing to wipe my face. I nod sharply at him once, signaling I'm ready and then hiss in a breath gritting my teeth as he presses the pad to my forehead. He leaves it a moment before gently wiping around the wound edges, clearing it of any fresh and dried blood.
"Sorry." He whispers knowing it hurts even if he's being gentle.
When the edges of my wound are clean he carefully places several temporary stitches closing the gap and at least covering my exposed skull. "That should hold at least until we can get you to the safe house." It goes unsaid, because we both know, that Nyah will have suspected one of us was hurt since we didn't meet our contact on the ferry and will have a doctor on standby at the safe house who can patch me up. We'd all been in this business long enough to anticipate these kinds of things by this point.
"I promise not to go winking at anyone until then… wouldn't want my eyebrow to fall down." I smile teasing him and trying to ease the tension as we prepare to move. "Thanks."
"You've done the same for me. More times then I have you. I'm usually the one needing the patch job." He laughs softly putting his supplies away.
It's true. Mikael is certainly not as experienced as myself or Nyah in the field and is the one most often to get hurt, at least in minor ways. I, on the other hand, have been shot, stabbed and now bludgeoned with a baton when he's tagged along on missions. Still though, he insists on coming and I have to admit, quite good considering his 'pretty boy status' that I love to tease him about. Most of the heirs in his position have never or will never ever put themselves into any kind of situations such as these. But our superior wants him to be exposed at the very least to 'my kind of lifestyle' as he will be running this division one day. They never intended him to actually be in the 'thick of it' right along with me on occasion, though. That was his choice.
Last summer, he adamantly insisted on going along with us on one of our training missions in Brazil. We wouldn't let him and left him behind. Of course, Mikael had other ideas and turned up anyway and nearly got us all killed, himself included. I don't think I'd ever seen Nyah so mad in all my life up to that point. It was her mission, her Op, and she was ultimately responsible for us all. Eventually we learned, that if he insisted on participating in some way, he would find a way to make trouble for us if we refused so it was best to give him something to do and help train him so that he wouldn't get 'us' killed trying to prove himself.
It was odd, him trying to prove himself 'worthy of us,' the Council Worker Bees and wanting to be where we are and do what we do, hang out with us as kids when all of the other heirs considered us to be severely beneath them. Associating with us as little as possible and treating us like the property we actually 'were' to them. But not Mikael, well not to me at least. He and Nyah would go round and round at times, with him reminding her of 'her place' beneath him in The Council and in their family. But that was a long sordid story I was still learning the details of and what I did know made my head spin. I tried to stay out of their feuds. Most of the time, though, we all got along great.
But that first Op he followed us in Brazil, shit really hit the fan between those two when we got back to our safe house. Every member of our twelve member team, took a hit and was hurt in some way making sure that Mikael was unharmed and shielded at all times as we made our way out of the slums and jungle cover. We all knew that if he were seriously hurt or harmed, Nyah would be killed for such failure as our Op Leader that evening. She would be made an example to the rest of us.
As soon as we were inside and safe, took stock of our injuries and Nyah realized he was the only one that had made it through completely unscathed, she marched right up to him and slammed the butt of her gun across his face breaking his nose.
'You spoiled selfish asshole!' Nyah shouted at him as he lay on the floor holding his gushing nose and whining about it. 'You nearly got the lot of us killed and all of us hurt trying to protect you!' She held her pistol in her hand and fanned it across the room using it as a pointer indicating the carnage his actions had left behind. We were all sprawled out around the room in various ways tending to our own wounds and each other's.
'Are you happy, spoiled Prince?' She snarled at him and kicked him in the gut before walking away to tend the bullet wound in her shoulder. We all knew she could have done a lot worse to him, would have had it been one of us that had done something so stupid and yet she had to hold back because of who he was. She was only allowed to get away with even that much damage to him because they were also family.
I hadn't been hurt too badly in that run but it was the first time that I had to bandage and patch up Mikael. The rest of the summer got much worse. But on this particular mission, our very first in the field together, I had taken a machete slice across the front of my lower ribs that was more superficial then anything. It took only twenty stitches to close. We were all concerned about getting in trouble for any permanent damage done to him and I could tell his nose was severely broken and would need to be set.
I had just finished my last stitch and was taping a gauze pad over the wound when I saw him move to sit up. He'd finally stopped rolling around moaning on the floor.
'Don't tip your head back!' I nearly shouted at him when I saw what he was doing. 'Lean forward.' I instructed the amateur, quickly moving to his side. 'So the blood won't run down your throat.'
"Time to go!" Mikael suddenly speaks again and snaps me out of the memory. My head is feeling tremendously heavy now and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. I know I need to see a real doctor and soon. As hard as my head was, it was no match for a metal baton. "Jules…" I can hear the alarm creeping into his voice when I sway putting my backpack on trying to stand. "Julia!" I hear him whisper shout as my head lulls and eyes struggle to stay open and feel myself fall back onto the pallet we're sitting on.
My eyes close for what feels like a second before I'm suddenly, blinded by an intense beam of light aimed straight into my eyes. Somewhere through the fog sitting on my brain I can hear Mikael's voice shouting my name again.
"Julia! Julia!"
"Turn the light off." I beg in a whisper and then nothing.
"This is your fault!" My ears pick up Mikael's voice as my brain starts working again. My eyelids feel like concrete and I can't open them no matter how hard I try. A jackhammer has taken up residence in my skull and the pounding is relentless. His shouting only makes it worse.
"This is not my fault!" Nyah screams back at him and I realize we're no longer alone. My fingers rustle the bed sheet and I know we are also no longer in the shipping container.
"Yes it is! You were in charge of this Op, Nyah! It was your responsibility to know the specs and do the Recon before we went in! Your information said there were only three guards! She was completely blindsided by the fourth! If I hadn't been there she would have been killed! This is your fault!"
"No, this is yours!" I hear Nyah counter as the voices rise and tempers flare to near deafening levels or at least it seems that way inside my exploding head. "You shouldn't have been there! You're a distraction to her and always have been! She's hurt because you were there! She was depending on you to watch her back! If she'd gone in alone like she was suppose to she would have relied on her own senses instead of yours and likely seen the fourth coming! There are always unknowns in this business and to expect the unexpected! She works best alone! Every time she's out with you, one of you gets hurt! Usually its her bailing your ass out!"
"No, every time you run her Ops she gets hurt!" Mikael screams back and I know I need to intervene somehow and soon before it comes to blows, literally.
"Shhh!" I finally manage to make my mouth work but they can't hear or don't care, one of the two as they continue to blame each other for my mistake. Typical.
"That's not true! She and I have worked together plenty fine before, alone and together on missions and neither of us seems to get hurt!" Nyah counters stating the truth, and I have to agree with her. When she runs my Ops and I work alone, or even she and I partnered together, there is a lot let blood involved in the end. The difference is we've been trained for this and he hasn't, not to the same degree and I've always given him leeway for that. "I knew you shouldn't have gone in with her! I knew it!" I can hear Nyah pacing beside me as she speaks and can just about visualize them circling each other in this screaming match as I've seen it so many times before. "But no! You're always insisting and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it you, selfish prick!"
That's it. I know I have to say something now and loudly or there will be blood.
"Hey… " I manage to croak out loudly enough to make them stop and give me silence to continue, "Please. Give it a rest. I'm at fault. Can you please quit screaming now? You're killing my head." I manage to get my eyelid open enough to see the lamp in the far corner of the room on and illuminating their silhouettes as they both approach and kneel beside me.
"I'm apologize. We shouldn't have been yelling like that in front of you." Mikael apologizes taking my hand and he's close enough now I can see him glowering at Nyah as if blaming her for yelling too. Nyah sighs and rolls her eyes in response. Her arms fold over her chest and she rocks back on her heels trying to control her anger, I know. I've seen this stance many times before as well. To her credit she says nothing in response to his accusatory look and instead shifts her gaze down to look at me. Her posture softens considerably and her hand reaches out to stroke my hair back gently off my forehead inspecting the wound.
"What's happening? How's my head?" I ask trying to move along from the topic of who is at fault and instead focus on what is going on now in the present.
"You've definitely got a skull fracture." Nyah sighs, "We're concerned you may have some internal bleeding inside the cranium."
She is the most-fierce looking person when she's angry that I've ever met, intimidating. Maybe that's because I know what she's capable of. On the outside, to the most unsuspecting person and not knowing her deadly capabilities, she is nothing to be feared; a small mouse of a girl that seems more book nerd then deadly assassin.
Nyah's of mixed parentage, East Indian and Caucasian, short in stature at only 5'4, light skinned with a hint of color as though she's permanently tanned with long dark hair. She has the most amazing eyes though, they are her standout feature; with eyelashes that are as thick as paintbrushes and just about as long and the color being so dark brown they're more black. When she's upset and crying, those eyes are like giant puppy dog eyes, seemingly innocent and vulnerable. Very few ever see this side of her in our line of work, but I do. But it's when she's angry, along with her posture and attitude, that those black eyes are so consuming its like staring into the face of a demon or the devil himself and I'm sure many bad people have died looking up at her and into those eyes thinking they likely have.
For right now though, those eyes have softened from deadly devil to puppy dog as she inspects my face and head with concern.
"I had a doctor waiting when you arrived, but he said this is out of his hands in this limited capacity he has to work with."
I knew what she meant. There was only so much patching and mending that a Council doctor could perform in a hotel room. Remove a bullet, suture knife wounds, fix burns and apply casts to broken limbs, sure, but potential bleeding on the brain was likely going to require a bit more then he could get through the door.
"You went completely unconscious in the shipping container again." Mikael jumps in seemingly relieved to see me conscious again and talking and eager to explain, "When I opened the door to our container we'd been reloaded onto another ship waiting to sail. And because nothing is ever easy with us," He smiles softly giving my hand a small squeeze, "Of course we had been loaded onto the very top of the stack, nine containers high. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to be able to get you down nearly 30 meters, unconscious with a head wound on my own and undetected."
"If you were actually a real Field Agent you could have gotten her down by yourself! You would know how! You should have called me!" Nyah snaps back at him and I can see the anger in her flare again.
"You were too far away! She needed immediate assistance!" Mikael fires back. "I did the only thing I could do in that moment! The ship was getting ready to set to sail!"
"What did you do?" I asked softly having a sinking feeling in my gut already, in knowing now, that it wasn't Nyah who helped him to get me out. Having this new information, my one eye that wasn't swollen shut quickly scanned the room and took inventory. This wasn't the seedy little safe house we'd been schedule to meet Nyah in on the outskirts of Hong Kong. This was an extremely high-end hotel suite.
"I called Ulric." Mikael answers quietly with his eyes averting mine and looking down in shame and Nyah sighed heavily beside me.
"And he sent Cassiopeia." Nyah stare down at me with one eyebrow raised; smoke and fear simultaneously steaming from her pores. "Now we're all in trouble."
"Great." I sigh heavily, closing my eye thinking this night could not possibly get much worse and as if on cue, the door to the bedroom flung open and she appears with two very large men.
Cassiopeia is our Divisions General. And like everyone else in The Council, she too was not really what she appeared to be. Looking at her in this moment you'd never believe she was anything but a gorgeous super model or famous actress. She could have been Grace Kelly's twin. Age 29, long blonde wavy hair, stunning blue eyes, perfect complexion, tall and slender with just enough muscle and curves to fill out any dress and have it fit like a glove. She wore a royal blue dress, hanging off one shoulder and hugging her body in all the right places, a huge slit up one thigh and on her feet, wore six-inch heels that helped to show off her perfectly sculpted long legs.
I'd no doubt whatsoever in my mind, that she could and would… and likely had at some point, used heels just like those on occasion to kill a man… or woman. I know, because she'd taught me how to do the same. This woman was drop dead gorgeous, literally lethal. Considering how she was dressed right now, we'd likely interrupted her own mission this evening with our little screw up and the thought only made me wince more internally. She was going to be pissed.
Cassiopeia was what we called, 'First Gen,' or 'First Generation' as part of the Introductory Class in The Program, a Highly Classified Intelligence Program built by The Council to raise and train, E.H.W.'s or 'Elite Human Weapons.' Nyah and I were 'Third Gens' and as children, Cassiopeia had been one of our Instructors in The Program. She seemed to have it out for the two of us in particular and spent a large portion of her time screaming at us, punishing us, or making us do extra pull-ups, or run more miles. Anything we ever did with her was never enough. And to Nyah and I, it really did feel like she always had her eye on us, out to get us in some way. She had the ability to make us fear her and respect her, to be absolutely terrified of her and in awe of her, all in one.
And now here she was: our Division General, towering over me beside the bed and looking every bit the part of an angel with the soft room light glowing around her perfect blonde head and sparkling from the diamonds hanging from her ears and around her neck.
Oh how looks can be deceiving. I think and take a breath, preparing myself.
"You two, out!" Cassiopeia orders Mikael and Nyah out of the room without even looking at them, only staring directly at me…or rather the wound on my head. She folds her arms over her chest and when they hesitate to move the instant she gives the command her eyes flash at lightning speed to theirs' with fire behind them. "Out!" She booms in her terribly scary voice that sounds like Zeus's thunder and they jump into action this time and out of the room.
I know enough about this woman to keep my mouth shut unless spoken to at times like this and so I just continue to lay absolutely still and attempt to avoid eye contact while she studies me.
Maybe, I could pretend to black out again? I think briefly before reasoning that, knowing Cassiopeia, she'd stab me with her stiletto just to make sure I was really unconscious. I didn't care to be stabbed and even more so, feel her wrath after she discovered that I'd faked my unconsciousness to avoid her. For now, I'd be the good soldier and only speak when spoken to.
She flicks her wrist and waves her hand still crossed over her other arm at the two burly men that had followed her in and within moments, one was on each side of the bed securing my wrists and ankles with leather restraints. My heart started pounding so hard in my chest that it was literally visible from the outside of my body as they secured me down against the bed, spread into an X pattern and unable to move.
In slight panic, I broke my own rule. I spoke to her first before being spoken to.
"What's going on? What is this for?" I ask with voice shaking slightly watching another two men enter the room. From the supplies they carried and the scrubs they wore, I assumed they were the doctors. "Ma'am…" My voice cracks near pleading when I saw one doctor pull out a drill.
Drills in my line of work were usually used for torture and I didn't think we'd messed up that badly, that she'd torture me as punishment. No one, who had a heart at least, took torture lightly in our line of work if they'd ever been tortured themselves that is… and I knew, that Cassiopeia had been tortured before in her life. We all had in our training as Elite Human Weapons so we'd be able to withstand it should we ever be caught. Our superiors wanted to make sure we maintained their secrets.
"Casey…" I plead, definitely breaking protocol and addressing her by the nickname I know the other First Gens call her, those she considers family, those she's grown up with, fought with, held them while they died…those she cares about and dare I say, loves. The First Gens were like Gods to us, even named after them by the arrogance of The Council and in a league all their own.
Her eyes flash down to mine and blinks hard, caught off guard by my calling her Casey. She must have known exactly what I was thinking when she looked from me, back to them and the drill and down to me again and her gaze softened a bit.
"It's not what you think." She reaches for my hand and gives it a slight squeeze, surprising us both but she doesn't pull her hand away immediately astonishing and frightening me yet again. Instead, she squeezes it once more with an unsettling, reassuring smile before letting it go. "They may have to make Burr Holes in your skull to relieve the pressure and clear any blood clots. We need to tie you down to make sure you're absolutely stable during the procedure."
Great! I scream sarcastically in my head that is already pounding. I wasn't actually being tortured but might as well be! A hole drilled into your body is still a hole drilled into your body! The only difference was sedation and considering I wasn't 'actually' being drilled for torture purposes I was hoping to get at least that.
Cassiopeia steps back and lets the doctor in closer to look at the wound. While he looks at my head, I look at her. Studying her as she always taught us to do. Keeping my mind occupied with what she may have been up to tonight instead of thinking about them, possibly drilling into my skull and exposing bits of my brain.
One missed security guard had certainly messed up my evening and likely hers' as well from the look of it. Her posture had gone back to defensive with arms crossed over her chest, jaw set and rocking back on her heels as she observed the doctors hovering over me and preparing me for surgery with an IV. She seems extremely annoyed on the outside, pissed off, but in trying to focus my one good eye on her face, I swear I can see something else lurking in those sparkling blue eyes of hers. Concern.
I didn't have long to ponder what that meant before feeling the cold tingle suddenly coursing through my veins and my eyelid grew heavy again. Fear suddenly gripped my heart. What if I didn't wake up? What if I died? What if there's too much damage and I do wake up but don't remember my family? My mother? Oh God, I don't know what would be worse! I can't stop the tears escaping from under my lashes and rolling down my cheeks as I feel myself going under. I'm absolutely terrified that I will wake up now and not remember, absolutely convinced of it as I fight my sedation.
"What if… I don't remember anything after?" My voice trembles with the question and I feel fingers gently graze my cheek and wipe the falling tears even as my eyes are closed. I know it's Cassiopeia when she takes me hand and squeezes it again, her perfume wafting into my nose as my breathing slows and I start losing the fight to stay awake.
"You will. Don't worry. When it's all over and the lights come on, you'll remember." She speaks softly and almost… motherly? It is as comforting as it terrifying coming from her and I feel even more tears flood from my eyes.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I can't stop my thoughts from coming out of my mouth on these drugs and cry even more in disbelief I've just asked her that out loud.
She doesn't answer my question, just brushes her hand over my hair. The last thing I remember hearing is her say is, "It will be okay."
I'm itchy. Those are my first thoughts when my eye slowly flutters open sometime later; it appears that I'm alone in the room. The lights are on and I realize, I do remember. Tears fill my eyes this time in joy and relief as I think about what could have been had things gone poorly.
A heart monitor to my left beeping in a steady rhythm signifies that not only am I alive, but from the other vitals I can make out, I seem to be doing very well. My restraints have been removed and the tactical black clothes I was once wearing have been replaced with a button down black satin pajama top and bottoms. They are soft and comfy and I'm clean. No more caked on blood in my hair or sweaty dirty combat gear.
My head feels surprisingly…well. I decide trying to gauge the situation and I'm stunned that it feels as good as it does. It is likely the effects of the morphine drip I see beside me, which would also explain the itch, but at least the jackhammer has gone silent. When I pull my hand up to my forehead all I feel is gauze: one square directly over my right eye spanning half the length of my forehead. I'm optimistic this means they didn't have to do too much drilling.
"You did very well." I hear Cassiopeia's voice break the silence and nearly jump out of my skin. She's sitting in the chair beside my bed to the right in my blindside now that my has swollen shut. She must have known that I've been awake a good five minutes and didn't say anything. Damn that woman is good! I was really off my game of late or I would have known someone was there. Should have known. Too many distractions, was right.
I can hear her close a hardcover book and set it aside, though I can't see it and I can hear her uncross her legs before she stands. At least my hearing detection skills are still working when I actually bother to use them. If I'd really been paying attention before, I would have heard her breathing. I concentrate on these small things as a way of reprimanding and reminding myself I'm capable of much better and need to act accordingly.
"Thankfully, you're going to be fine. Only one small Burr Hole required and a tiny metal plate hidden beneath your eyebrow to close. Very little scarring." She comes to stand on my left thankfully so that I don't have to turn my head too much to see her. I don't like the idea of having my super stealthy assassin General standing in my blind-spot in spite of the softer moment before surgery, I know she's angry at me. I was Council property. And damaged Council property was severely frowned upon. If I had been seriously hurt or injured, killed, they would have lost a very valuable asset. I heard the speech a million times before in training and since, coming from this very woman and we both knew she didn't need to repeat it again now.
"I've put too much work into you, Julia for you to do something so stupid." Her arms cross again over her chest as she looks down at me with the condescending eyebrow and disappointed tone. "I've trained you better then this!"
Where I've been changed out of my stealthy black tactical clothing and into elegant satin pajamas, she's changed out of the chic blue evening dress and into her own stealthy black combat clothing. No more glittery shine like an angel, the diamonds are gone, replaced by a black leather form fitting jacket and though still beautiful, Cassiopeia looked mostly lethal dressed like this. She certainly wasn't 'vain' like her namesake, Queen Cassiopeia of Greek Mythology about her 'unrivaled beauty' but the 'arrogant' part of the description was still debatable, even if she had a right to be both all things considered. She was a force to be reckoned with, and this was my reckoning.
"There's no need for you to explain the situation. I've already debriefed Nyah and Mikael during your surgery." She paces shaking her head along the side of the bed. "The situations the three of you manage to get yourselves into," She stopped suddenly and whirled to face me, staring directly into my eyes with fierceness in her own and pointing her finger at me. "Stop catering to that boy, Julia or one of these days he's going to get you killed!"
I gulp staring at the finger in my face. I wasn't sure if it was an order to stop allowing Mikael to come along as part of the mission, or a warning, or both? She's known since the incident in Brazil last summer that keeping Mikael sidelined was no easy task. He had the power and ability to do pretty much anything he wanted in regards to the rest of us. Even over her. At least, in the future when he became Head of his family's branch in The Council… but not yet; and that was a fine line they both were very aware of. After last summer's disastrous shortcomings, Cassiopeia knows that if she gives the order I will follow it, no matter what and without question. She is the only one of my superiors who has my unwavering allegiance. I know very little of this fierce woman and understand even less but I do know now without a doubt that her mission is to keep me alive, to teach me to survive. If I trust nothing else she says or does after years of tormenting me, I do know the end goal is my survival. If she gives the order now, I will obey. I finally muster the courage to ask, needing some sort of guidance as to how to proceed with Mikael on missions in our future, "Is that an order, General?"