The twice-weekly excursions outside were a literal breath of fresh air after endless hours spent in the lab with the doctor or alone in her room. Summer was over, although the days did not seem to be cooling down. When Tamara mentioned this fact to Roger, he had speculated that they must be hidden somewhere near the equator. She dearly wished she could call Alhambra again and relay this information as it might prove helpful in them being found sooner.
If the helipad happened to be occupied, then she was taken to another rooftop plaza where any number or variety of military exercises might be practiced. Seeing the precision and decorum with which the soldiers trained really drove home the point that Roger had made before, that this organization was first and foremost military. How she factored into all of it was still a mystery. Perhaps the doctor was working independently, and his secret project had nothing to do with Millennium's true goals, whatever those happened to be.
She would stand and watch the drills from the side, in between surreptitious glances up at the sky. She couldn't help but wonder if and when this place would be found by American forces. Alhambra's assurance that this was "of national importance" encouraged her though, and she figured it was only a matter of time before they were rescued.
A few weeks passed without incident and while the routines were far from enjoyable, Tamara was finding them to be bearable. She even managed to put on a little bit of weight as she was strongly encouraged to every time she was weighed. The doctor might have been joking when he threatened to force feed her, but she didn't want to take any chances.
She was trying to guess the number of calories in her dinner one evening when there was a firm knock knock at her door. Opening it, Tamara's breath caught in her throat to see the man whose nose she had injured back on the day she was kidnapped.
The big man with the close haircut cleared his throat, then told her to follow him as the Major wanted to see her. There was no malice in his voice. This was just business.
Tamara blinked a few times as she quickly tried to make sense of the unexpected invitation. "I'll be out in a minute." The way she inflected the end of the sentence made it sound more like asking permission than making a statement.
He cleared his throat again and nodded once. She went back into the room while the soldier held the door half open. Tamara considered the untouched meal sitting on the makeshift bedside table as she sat and put on her shoes. She was hungry, but the sausage with sauerkraut along with the risk of bad breath could definitely wait until after. There wasn't anything to do other than run a cheap black comb through her hair a few times, but at least she would look infinitely more presentable than she had at their last meeting.
After following the soldier for a while, who didn't seem to be in the least amount of hurry, they came to the familiar gold door. Tamara was nervous to see the Major again, but he appeared to be in good spirits as she sat down across from him. The room was exactly as she remembered except for a small television sitting off to the side on the polished desk.
"Just thought we'd give you a little progress report."
The Major spread his hands over a dozen or so papers laid out in front of him. "So far so good, my dear doctor tells me. 'Patient is cooperative, follows instructions with only minor complaint. We are making progress.'"
He looked up. "So how have you been settling in? Is there anything that would make your stay with us more pleasant? I want to hear how it is all going."
Tamara felt certain this was a trick question of some kind. She looked back briefly to confirm that the soldier had taken his place near the door, standing stiffly at attention, his eyes focused upwards. Squeezing her hands together in her lap, she answered as diplomatically as she could.
"I suppose I have everything I need. I think I'm healthier than I've ever been."
The Major smiled encouragingly at this.
"Though sometimes I don't really know what I should be doing. Why I'm here, exactly. I sit around quite a bit, that sort of thing."
"Is that so? Interesting. Anything else you wish to share?"
Tamara shifted in her chair, nervous about what she was about to ask.
"If it's possible, could I ask for something for Roger? He might benefit from a few small comforts."
"Oh yes, that beau of yours. How is he doing? Getting enough to eat? Enjoying your little visits?"
She didn't like the fact that he had failed to refer to Roger as her husband.
The Major snapped his fingers before she could formulate a response. "I know, since you have so much free time on your hands, why don't you and I check in on him? Right now!"
Seemingly pleased with this idea, he sat forward and turned a dial on the television set then positioned it so they could both view the screen.
Tamara's stomach knotted to see what looked like a live recording feed from the prison. She did not recall ever seeing a wall-mounted camera in there, but with the low lighting it was possible that she had just failed to notice it. The screen was black-and-white, but she clearly recognized the cell. Roger was standing slightly back from behind the bars, his body language alert, maybe even a little tense.
"There he is. Well, he looks healthy enough to me. You're right, though. Perhaps an extra blanket would do him some good."
A few moments passed, then into the frame stepped another person, wearing a flat military hat and a long coat. Tamara was certain it was the man that had been with Major the day of their meeting, the one who had only been addressed as Captain.
Before Tamara could react, the Captain had drawn a small shiny pistol from beneath his coat and pointed it between the bars, directly at Roger. There was no sound to go with the picture, but there was a small flash of light from the end of the gun. Roger fell to the ground.
"No!" Tamara yelled, lunging out of her chair towards the television. She thought she could see Roger writhing on the floor, perhaps grasping at his leg just as she felt someone grab her shoulders and pull her away from the screen and back into her seat.
The Captain had turned and was now looking up directly into the camera, his face dispassionate. This seemed to prompt Major to turn off the television. With the view of the cell gone, Tamara could only wrap her arms around herself, clutching her sleeves in her fists.
"Apparently I wasn't clear enough the last time so we're going to have this conversation again. Your cooperation is crucial to ensuring his survival. In other words, if you so much as set a foot out of line, Roger is dead."
So they had found out about the telephone calls. Tamara was sobbing now, great gasping sobs, but she still managed to catch every word he said. If the Major wasn't lying now, then Roger must only be injured.
"You are to do everything Herr Doktor tells you to and nothing else. I don't care if he has you standing on your head or twiddling your thumbs for hours on end. Do I make myself clear now?"
"I-I'm so-sorry," she said between gasps. "It won't ha-happen again."
"Exactly what won't happen again? I'm not certain I understand."
"I won't try to escape, I w-won't disobey, I won't step out of line!" She didn't even have to try to make the desperation in her voice believable. At this very moment she felt she could have agreed to anything, including jumping out of the window, if it would please the Major to do so.
"I am very glad to hear it. Welcome back, Captain! My, that was fast. Did you manage to call on the good doctor then?"
Tamara turned just in time to see Captain enter the room and nod his head once. Her soldier escort saluted as he passed, but Captain ignored this and brushed past him to go stand behind the Major. The man seemed to give her a cursory glance from behind his unkempt white hair, before his attention fixated on a spot behind her.
"Wunderbar! You see, Dok will take care of everything, clean up your mess for you. You don't have to get so emotional as all that. However, there is one more topic of discussion before you go."
The Major handed her a handkerchief this time in anticipation.
"There are much better ways to make a point. Such a waste of my time, if anyone cared to ask me," Dok said, pulling the bullet out with a pair of forceps, sending a new rivulet of blood running down the back of Roger's thigh.
Roger couldn't really respond at the moment, as he was gritting his teeth. The shot of local anesthetic had only been moderately effective in numbing his leg, and he wasn't going to get another. Dok had promised to patch him up, but apparently not the nice and easy way. He did find it ironic that the doctor was so angry when he hadn't actually been the one shot in the leg.
"To your credit, you don't complain as much as she does." He was now tying the final sutures, hands moving unnaturally fast.
A flash of anger distracted Roger enough from the pain to respond. "Tammy? She's not a complainer. You've put her through hell."
"That is very chivalrous considering your own condition."
"It doesn't matter," he groaned. "All that matters is that she's okay."
The doctor rolled his eyes. Some days the lovesickness between those two made him feel almost ill. But the Major had insisted that this was the best way to ensure compliance, so he had to put up with it. Thankfully he was cleaning the wound and applying the final bandages, which meant this annoyance would be gone momentarily.
"You know, I've been meaning to ask you something, Dok."
"And what is that?"
"Back in Rio, if I hadn't been so careless… Given away all that information about us... Would you still have taken Tamara?"
"You think you're responsible for what happened?"
Roger's frown deepened. "Yeah, I think I might be."
It was a valid question, although the answer was a little complicated. The doctor had to think about it, but if he was honest with himself…
"All right, that's done for now," Dok said, gathering all the blood-stained paper and gauze strips into a ball. "Stay off that leg and keep it elevated. I'll have them bring you a box or something." The doctor threw the crumpled mess away, then motioned to the two soldiers standing at the door to the lab who had dragged Roger all the way here from his cell and who would be helping him to hop all the way back.
"In answer to your question, the ending result would have been the same" was all that Dok offered as a parting thought. At the last second, he thrust two aspirin into Roger's hand.
Roger nodded glumly, but said nothing.
That night Tamara had her first dream about Millennium.
She was on the phone with Alhambra, who was telling her about a specific drainage pipe on the north side of the rooftop that she could use to escape. If she was brave, she could hurry and meet up with him at a clearing in the forest, where he'd be waiting with Roger in a helicopter. "Come as soon as you can, senhorita," he recommended. After hearing that, the next moment she was shimmying effortlessly down the side of the complex, managing to reach the ground without so much as a scrape on her knee. Then she was running, running through the endless trees. Her legs felt strong and the air was cool, not so heavy as usual. She knew which way to go. She was almost there.
But then a loud bang came from behind her, and she looked back briefly to see that not one, but three men in long coats similar to the Captain's were chasing her. Suddenly her legs felt weak and jelly-like, and it seemed every bit of flora on the forest floor was causing her to trip.
Another bang and she knew immediately that she had been shot. It didn't hurt exactly, but there was a large throbbing sensation which emanated from the center of her back, expanding outwards. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Just before she crumpled to the ground, Tamara woke up to reality in the darkness of her room.
The overwhelming relief that it had only been a dream was quickly replaced by the remembrance that Roger had actually been wounded and that there was to be no escape nor rescue after all. And for all she knew, the helpful Brazilian man on the phone was dead now, or soon to be. Feeling that the only way to escape the depression of these thoughts was to go back to sleep, Tamara closed her eyes and willed herself back to unconsciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by the light of several bright lamps shining above. Squinting, she could just make out Dok's dark silhouette looming over her.
"Tsk tsk," he chided. "Such a shame you had to act foolishly and get yourself shot. Now all I can do is experiment on what's left of you!"
Tamara raised her head and looked down to see that her torso was covered in a network of wires, electrodes, and needles, all secured with white medical tape. Panicking, she tried to move but her arms were restrained at the sides by leather cuffs. That slight movement, however, sent a prickling jolt through her body as the myriad needles jostled inside of her.
Screaming, Tamara bolted upright in her cot, back in her room again. This time she was unable to feel even the slightest momentary relief that it had just been another nightmare and she began to shiver uncontrollably.
Fearing to go back to sleep, she stumbled shakily to the bathroom and turned the shower handle as far as it could go. As the hot water began steaming up the room, she threw off her nightgown and sat down on the tiled floor, not having the care or energy to remove her underwear as well. For a while she just watched the water go down the drain, then dipped her head beneath the spray and closed her eyes. Focusing on the sound of water loudly rushing over her ears helped drown out some of the thoughts in her head, so she remained like that for some time.