In The Clear: Interlude IV
CW: Mentions of torture.
Disclaimer: This chapter contains a superficial look into an international organization that exists in our world. This is in no way an accurate representation of this organization nor is it meant to comment on the effectiveness or ethicacy of this organization. Remember, this is a work of fiction and I know very little about how this stuff actually works.
"Put your hands up! All of you!"
Levi doesn't think twice. He grabs hold of the nearest bodies and pulls them backward, forcing them into a sprint before the intruders' words can sink in. There's no time to hesitate. There's no chance in the world that any of them are going to do as they're told. Not now.
Levi scrambles somewhere near the front of the group. He can't see if anyone is left behind and doesn't have time to think about it. There are enough footsteps on all sides of him that he hopes they're all still together. Someone shouts to spur them forward, but it's not needed. Levi doesn't think he could stop running if he tried.
The sound of gunfire is so loud in the narrow hallway that he can't be certain where it's coming from. Levi almost trips after the first one rips against his eardrum. He has every instinct to hit the ground but he forces himself to keep going. They won't shoot us. He tries to look around him to make sure that no one's been hurt. He can't focus enough to know for sure. They won't shoot them.
Levi doesn't know that for sure. These have to be FFN's people, but he isn't even certain of that. They wouldn't hurt their own Winners. He has to believe that. As long as he's with them they won't shoot.
He thinks back to the headphones he wore barely two years ago to the date. He remembers the echo of every shot, the way that the air went silent, and the fact that he could do nothing but shout into the mic for someone to respond. The Protestors lost so many members that day. Is this what they felt? Is this how it sounded as gunfire rang in their ears, the last thing they would ever hear?
There's a scream but it's so far that Levi has no hope of even finding where it came from. He skids down another hallway. There are less footsteps now. There have been too many doors, too many turns. He doesn't know where in the Tower they are anymore.
Levi realizes he's headed to another exit. He turns his head just enough to see only two bodies behind him. Two. There should be so many more, but he only sees two. He pauses and his lungs suddenly feel like they've been set alight. He isn't used to this. He doesn't know what to do. Levi hasn't grown accustomed to the feeling of being under attack, at least not personally.
Two pairs of wide eyes stare back at him. The hallway immediately around them is silent, but Levi can hear footsteps coming from elsewhere. He can't even begin to think about where the others might be, where the intruders have moved, whether anyone has already been captured or worse. Levi stares back at the pair. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do.
Where? He doesn't know if he actually hears the girl speak, or if her mouth just makes the motion. Levi swallows and looks around. The hallways feel like they're swaying in a way that's downright impossible. Moments ago he knew exactly where they were. Now it feels like he's never seen the familiar hallways.
Rory grips his arm tightly and Val stands so close behind her that Levi can feel both of their breath on his skin. The guilt of their combined gazes makes him want to vomit. Of course they're looking at him. They have no choice. Neither of them have been permitted out of the few secluded rooms they've been stored in. Stored like neither of them were people. They can't get out of here without him. They don't know where to go.
Levi swallows down the next two breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. He needs to focus, and not for himself.
They don't stand a chance without me.
He shakes his head and points further down the hallway. There's another exit in this wing, though there's no promise that it too hasn't been discovered. Levi tries to send that worry out of his mind. He can't freeze. He has to try. He can no longer hear the others, any of the Winners that were running with them or the stray Protestors either. He'll come back for them if he can.
He's unsure if he'll be able to hold himself to that.
Levi shuffles forward more quickly. They pass an open door, and he almost stops again but he can't. The smell of iron and smoking gunpowder is too familiar. Levi's vision starts to blur again but he pushes it away. He doesn't have a count of how many members should still be here. The Commander is the only one with those numbers. Levi doesn't know how many bodies could already be hiding in the Tower.
They won't hurt the Winners. They won't hurt them. They won't hurt the Winners. Levi repeats this like a mantra as he forces himself through the narrowing hallway. He's only been through this part of the Tower once and already forgot how claustrophobic it gets. He doesn't allow himself to hesitate.
"Through here." His whisper feels like gunfire in the silence. Levi grabs the nearest arm and pulls it further. It's gotten too dark to see anything, and there are no lights as they move further in. Levi stumbles as he hits what must be stairs. They're so uneven it's hard to call them that. He fumbles with a pair of deadbolts for what feels like several minutes before the door pops open in front of them.
Levi holds his breath until it feels like he's going to pass out. He can't hear either Val or Rory behind him, but the stillness of the air tells him that they couldn't have gone far. Outside feels brighter than it should considering the hour, but it's still too dark to see more than a meter in front of them.
Even Levi's voice is shaking. "T-there's another bunker. I think it's west of here." He tries to remember the exit's orientation. He knows this. He studied the maps every chance he got. Levi swallows and points to where he believes west should be. "That way, we could get there by morning."
He doesn't know if that's true. Not only is he unsure of his own stamina, but he's even more uncertain of theirs. It's been over a year since Rory's injury, but it was a long recovery. Not to mention that they've been confined for at least that long. The food in the Tower isn't great either. Levi has no idea what kind of strength they're going to have for the journey.
He pauses when he realizes they haven't started moving. Both stare at him with frightened eyes, Val holding onto Rory with both hands as if afraid she'll take off. They stand so close together that, in the darkness, it's almost impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. They look so much frailer than they did when he first met them. Yet, despite the fact that they've been separated for weeks, they hold onto each other just as tightly.
Levi stops and his eyes drop away from the direction they should be headed. Why would they go anywhere with me? His throat feels dry as he stares at the pair. They've been through so much in the past year. They've escaped death and endured conditions that Levi knows have been wrong. They didn't deserve to be locked up. They didn't deserve to be separated when they'd only had each other through all of this. Levi knew this all weeks ago, but looking at them now he can't see anything else.
They're just kids. He thinks. They never asked to be part of any of this.
Levi doesn't need to think any longer to make his decision. He digs through his pockets and comes up with a single protein bar and a handful of coins that it's too dark to count. He holds them out and Rory instinctively cups her hand to accept. Her brows furrow as she shows Val, and they too look up in confusion.
"The city's that way," Levi says, pointing to the east. "Minnedosa isn't big, but it'll have buses into Winnipeg. It'll be easier to get lost in a bigger city." He swallows, wondering if the change he gave them is even close to enough for two tickets. "North along 83 there are lots of small communities, lots of forest."
The two look at each other then back at Levi. "Won't the Commander be upset?"
"You deserve a choice," Levi says without answering the question. Truthfully, he doesn't know. He has no idea where the Commander is, if he's even alive, anything. He just knows that right now, they're looking at him and he refuses to keep letting them down. "I'm sorry it took so long."
Rory furrows her brow, still cupping the meager supplies in one hand as if not sure what to do with them. Levi wishes he had more to offer. He could try to go back inside to find more, but it's too risky. If the intruders truly don't know about this exit, he doesn't think that's going to last. Tears start to blur in his eyes. He's starting to realize that he isn't gonna be able to keep his promise of returning to help the Tower. He didn't think he still had any heart left to break, but Levi can feel it shattering in his chest.
He's sick of feeling helpless but he doesn't know how to be anything else. The phantom scent of metal and gunpowder fills his nose again. If anyone is still alive down there, it's only a matter of time. When it comes to the Protestors, the government's weapons don't tend to leave survivors.
Levi crouches to the ground with teary eyes hidden behind his shaking hands. He doesn't know if he will make it through another loss, another failure that he couldn't stop. The headphones feel like they haven't left his ears, gunfire still ringing in them from the year the Protestors tried to break into the set. No one came home. He thinks about watching the bits of footage that Zach was able to send him last year, when Rory and Val were rescued. Some members did come home, but not enough. Levi can't help but wonder how many people will make it out of the Tower tonight.
He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Val standing over him. Rory is close behind them, one hand tucked in a heavy pocket. She looks apprehensive and he can't blame her. Nothing Levi has done for her has ever really been for her. It's understandable if she's looking for an ulterior motive. This is probably the first time there hasn't been one.
"Thank you."
Levi shakes his head. He doesn't deserve their thanks. Not now and not ever. He swallows and tries to wipe away enough tears to see them clearly. Even doing that proves impossible. "Go. I don't know how long you have."
Val nods and backs away until they're standing beside Rory again. Levi doesn't hear if they say anything, and ducks his head before they start moving. They have to go. They need to get as far away from this place and from everyone if they're going to have a chance. Levi doesn't even trust himself to know where they're going.
He counts to sixty with his head tucked into his knees. Part of him expects to look up and still see the pair standing in front of him. Leaving the Tower with barely any supplies and almost no direction could be just as dangerous as staying here. Levi should've gotten them more. He should've risked it and went back inside. What if they die out there? It will be his fault.
Levi's lip is still trembling when he finally looks up again. He doesn't find either of the ex-contestants and he can't help but feel relieved. They finally got to make a choice, even if there were no good options. Wherever they go, he hopes they'll be okay. He knows that they understand how dangerous everything is now, especially for them.
He starts to stand before something on the ground catches his eye. Levi leans back down and picks up a small chunk of something beige wrapped in a crumpled napkin. His brows furrow as he gets closer, and that's when he recognizes the familiar smell of dates and cinnamon. It's the only flavour of protein bar that the Tower ever carried.
- CW -
Lev can tell how long he's been alone by the aching pain that starts to pull its way through his body. He turns his neck so slowly, but even that is agony. It's not the familiar sharpness of burns or even the tightness of the restraints. It's the feeling of the toll on his body finally being allowed to rear its head. It's almost more unbearable.
They haven't been back since their ultimatum. Not even the masked staff that fill his IV bags yet refuse to look him in the eyes. No one has entered the room. Whatever medications they were giving him to keep his mind function fractured hasn't been given in some time.
They want him to know. For the first time, they want him to think in full clarity. They want him to understand what he's done.
Lev swallows and looks down at the hospital gown. It still has blood on it, though he doesn't remember where it came from. Only one limb sticks out from the long sleeves, and the hand looks so unfamiliar. He lifts the index finger and it responds. Lev only begins to believe that it's his when the gnawing pain of disuse moves up his wrist.
"You have one last chance."
Lev stared past the doctor, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. The man knew already, knew that Lev didn't have the information he wanted, yet he didn't give up. Lev didn't know where the Protesters were. He never had. They never told him. At this point, Lev would have if it meant the pain would stop. He no longer cared. He promised himself so long ago that they wouldn't break him. He lied.
They could do whatever they wanted to him.
And they wanted him in pieces.
"You just have to tell us."
Lev didn't bother to shake his head. He stared at the screen in front of him, in fact he had no way to turn so that he wouldn't see it. Once he had tried to close his eyes, when the doctor had told him who he was looking at for the first time. They'd burned his eyelid. Lev could still feel the blister each time he dared move his gaze.
He didn't know if he believed them. The boy on the screen appeared almost familiar, but there were no associated memories. Lev did not remember the name - Casimir. He did not remember ever being told he had siblings. He was put up for adoption so quickly, the question had never come up.
Medical records. DNA tests. Videos and images that made the story so believable. It had all been shown to Lev in rapid succession over days that all blended together. Same father, different mothers. They had the same eyes, the same jawline. It could be a coincidence. Lev stared at the pictures. It could also be the only blood family he's ever laid eyes on.
Shouldn't I know? He thought.
That seemed to be all the time he had between visits from the doctor - enough for a single thought to eat him from the inside out.
Lev closes his eyes. The blister on his eyelid shifts uncomfortably, proof that it hasn't been a millennia but likely just a day or so. He stares at the screen and it's empty. It would make more sense to keep showing him, to guilt him for the choice he made, but it's blank.
It felt like the doctor had been in his room for hours. He sat idly by Lev's bedside like a concerned relative. Lev could not even turn his head away. He could see the man in his periphery and he hated him more than ever.
"He's done well for himself."
Lev bit his tongue. He knew the he that the doctor was referring to. The boy with shaggy brown hair sat on a stool on the screen. Lev didn't know what he was doing. He only knew that the strange boy - his brother - was in danger. If the feed wasn't in such high definition, if Lev couldn't see the shallow breathing pattern, he would have thought it was a still image. Nothing happened. Casimir's - Casi's, because the doctor told Lev that's what he went by - hand moved every few minutes or so. Lev hadn't been told what he was doing. He also hadn't asked.
Is it true? Lev asked the boy silently, knowing both that he wouldn't reply and that the answer wouldn't matter. The doctor had been clear in what he wanted from Lev. Total honesty or the boy would die. They would kill him.
If Lev didn't cooperate, the doctor would kill him. Lev didn't have the information they wanted. He still refused to tell them anything at all. They've more than proved they can't be trusted. Lev doesn't believe in the Protestors anymore, but they're not the boogie man in his closet. That role is filled by the doctor himself.
The Protestors are simply the parents that abandoned him to the monster.
Lev blinks but it's no solace. They used to last longer, enough to believe he slept and maybe he did. The fog has receded and Lev wants nothing more than to have it back. Pain is one thing, timelessness is one thing, but clarity is another beast entirely. His mind has held onto too much. It's only in these past days that he's thought of Jared, that he remembered the ghost boy who sat beside him and in the same breath realized that the only person left who cared about him was dead. Jared was dead or worse, he was in another room beside him with his own boogie man.
Lev will not say his name. He will not ask where he is. He will only hope that Jared is dead with the same ferocity that he hopes his own life will end.
If he looks really hard, he can see the smudged wheel marks on the ground near the door. It hadn't been enough for the doctor to force him to watch every second in slow motion. The floor in the prison had bent so far that Lev had almost convinced himself it wouldn't break. The scream seemed to go on forever. Not even the dust had clouded his view. The poor boy's body had been buried in broken concrete and Lev had watched the entire seven minutes it took for him to finally stop fighting for air.
And if that wasn't enough, a pair of black-uniformed men had wheeled the corpse into his room hours later.
Lev can't remember the last time he cried before that moment. He didn't know if what the doctor told him was true. He didn't know if he had a brother, or once had a brother. He still cried for the boy longer than he'd ever cried for himself in this place. He still hated himself for not saying more, for not giving up when it was clear that Lev would never win here.
Yet, if this person was his brother, Lev knew that death was a gift. If there's one thing he's learned from the ghost boy who stopped visiting, it's that no one gets a happy ending. Not Lev, who ended up here. Not Vito - he believes that was his name - who trembled even when no one was looking. Not the contestants who lose, whose only prize is an early grave.
If Lev had to choose one for Casi, he would kill the kid himself if it came down to it. In some ways, maybe he did.
And he can't regret it. He can't. Even wheeled in on a wagon, badly bruised and with concrete shards embedded in his skin, Casi is better off than he would be here. If Casi had won, there's no telling what the doctors would do to him, what they would threaten Lev with doing to them. It would never end. Lev knows that none of the information he has would be enough for the doctor. He's put far too much faith in Lev now. He believes too heavily that Lev will be their key to the Protestors.
It was the only thing keeping Lev alive. Now, without Casi and without anything left to threaten, Lev wonders what will happen to him. He moves his index finger again and grits his teeth as pain tenses up his arm.
Are they just going to leave me here to die?
"Where is she?" Mina shouts at the driver. She doesn't know who it is, can't see even the vaguest hint of their face through her tears. The guards flanking her in the car's backseat wouldn't tell her. The person who pointed a gun at her chest in the Tower wouldn't tell her. Maybe he will. He has to. She shouts again. Mina can't even understand her own words at this point.
Tears blanket her cheeks and she writhes in the seat, trying desperately to escape even though there's nowhere to go. She can't breathe. She can't feel the handcuffs tearing into her wrists even though she sees the blood on the guards' gloves when they grab her. She doesn't care. Where is she? No one will tell her anything about Zoe. None of the guards have said a word to her.
The woman to her left pushes down on Mina's shoulder to keep her in the seat. The one on the right buckles her seatbelt and Mina sobs into the leather behind her head. They haven't tried to hurt her. She knows the uniform. She knows who they are, where they're taking her back to. Mina doesn't care. She'll go back to Toronto General. She'll do whatever they want. They just have to promise that Zoe is safe.
"Please," she whimpers. Mina has never heard something so pathetic come from her lips, but she doesn't even try to take it back. It was Zoe who made the announcement. She took all the blame when it should've been Mina. There's no telling what they'll do to her. She heard bits of a struggle over the intercom. She knows that someone found her.
Mina doesn't know if she hopes it's the guards or the rebels. She doesn't know who is less likely to hurt her. She just needs to know that Zoe is safe.
The female guard looks straight past her, watching her limbs and neck the same way they always do. They don't care if she struggles, just that she doesn't hurt herself. The other guard tucks something between her skin and the handcuff. Mina remembers this feeling too. It's been years since they forced her back to the hospital but now it feels like just yesterday. She hates it. She hates them. Please just tell me she's okay.
She slams her back against the seat. It doesn't hurt, the guards are still holding her so she barely moves. Mina tries to writhe from their grip even if she knows it's pointless. The rational part of her tells her to cooperate. She learns more when they trust her. She knows this. It's what Calvin told her since the moment she left the hospital the first time.
Except Calvin's not here. Neither is Zoe, or Rajan, or Alexis, or Guiliana, or Matt, or Vito. She doesn't have to keep them safe. She doesn't behave so that they remember it's okay to give a little to get on their good side. Mina doesn't have to cooperate and she can't make herself. They need to tell her what happened to Zoe. That's all Mina cares about now. Zoe has to be okay.
"Please."
Rajan is too afraid to move even when the nurse tells him to give her his hand. He sits rigidly on the stretcher, more of his skin exposed than it's been in the past year. He stares up at the ceiling, eyes locked open but he can't do anything else. Finally, the nurse grabs his elbow and forces his wrist onto a fabric cylinder.
He flinches when it's placed back in his palm. He can feel it sitting inside, as if his new device were somehow larger than the last one. Maybe it is. Maybe, as punishment for leaving, Rajan was given something worse than a tracker. Truthfully, he can't imagine anything worse.
"There, all done," she says sweetly. Rajan thinks about nodding but the gesture doesn't make it that far. It feels like he's trapped in a nightmare, and almost every nightmare has taken place in a white-walled room. He looks down and his skin stands out so much more against the sheets. It's filthy when everything else in the small room is pristine. Rajan feels so out of place. "That wasn't so bad, right?"
He still doesn't move. It's likely been hours since he arrived back at the hospital, if not days. There are no clocks in his room; there never are, he remembers that much. Rajan can't remember if he slept here yet, but the bed in the corner looks freshly made. The nurse pulls softly on his opposite hand as a signal to sit up. He just stares at her.
"You'll need to eat," she tells him. "You've lost a lot of weight."
Rajan swallows, but the inside of his mouth tastes bitter. He doesn't think he's eaten in a while, maybe not since he went to bed in the Tower. How long has it been? He sets a hand against his stomach but it doesn't give him any indication. His body seems as shut down as he feels.
Where are the others? He thinks, but Rajan can't force his tongue to form the question. He remembers running, remembers the sounds of shots being fired even though nothing even hit the walls around him. Someone - he thinks it was Calvin - shouted that they were fake. He told Rajan, all of them, to keep running.
Rajan was cornered down a dead end after that. He didn't see where the others went, can't remember if he saw them at any point after that. He was led back to the exit by three guards who told him not to try anything. Rajan had been so afraid, he hadn't dared.
He saw their rifles. He saw the army patches on each of their uniforms. He knew that, even if he tried to, he wouldn't be able to get away.
Rajan hadn't doubted for a second where they would bring him. He'd been right when they pulled into the hospital's garage and a more familiar set of guards had taken him upstairs. This room is generic enough that he's convinced himself it's the same one. His frozen limbs feel just like they did the first time Rajan was sent here.
The nurse places a half roll in his hand. It has something dark smothered on one side but he can't even ask what it is. She leads his hand halfway to his mouth and Rajan is able to bring it the rest of the way. He chews and swallows one bite, then another. Suddenly he's absolutely starving and brings the full plate closer to him on the bed. Every single bite sits like a rock in his stomach. Every single one tastes like nothing.
Calvin's fists shake inside his restraints. Not even the sedatives are enough to take that away, though truthfully they never were. His mind feels numb but not empty. It's as if he's nothing more than a casual observer to his own frantic thoughts.
"You'll feel better once you've rested," one nurse told him.
Calvin seriously doubts that. He's alone for the first time that he can remember beyond the odd bathroom visit. Even then he could hear others moving around him. The Tower had thin walls. People were always walking the halls or snoring or rolling boxes past their room with squeaky carts. He never got a moment to himself and now that he has one, he wants to shove it as far away from him as possible.
Tears start again and Calvin isn't even allowed the luxury of being able to wipe them away. They run down his cheeks onto the plastic pillow beneath his head, making the angles of his jaw feel damp against it. His body starts shaking even worse.
That's the routine he's grown into, however long he's been here. As soon as his eyes open, his body feels like it's on fire. Calvin writhes against the restraints until he realizes where he is. For what it's worth, he's safe. If they wanted to kill him, they would've already. More than likely, they just want their perfect Winners back. Calvin doesn't think they're going to get their wish.
He screams at every person who comes into his room. He doesn't know who they are nor does he care. The last thing Calvin wants is to be alone yet the prospect of someone, anyone, seeing him like this is so much worse. For so long he had to be strong. He couldn't think of El or of what he was leaving behind at the farm. He couldn't even mourn the farm when it was burned to the ground. Now, he's feeling all of it.
There aren't enough sedatives in the world to hide this pain.
"Can I see them?" Guiliana asks softly. She sits at the edge of the garden, on the same concrete bench that she's grown so used to. She barely looks around it anymore, even though the spring flowers have started to make an appearance. It doesn't feel as beautiful as it should. The garden feels as uncertain as she does.
Dr. Liu shakes his head sadly. "They're safe, but this is all new again. They need time."
Guiliana nods, not because she agrees with him but because there's little else she can do. It's been less than twenty-four hours since she first got the message about their arrival in the hospital. According to Dr. Liu, all five of the missing Winners are accounted for. Guiliana is relieved, but she's not yet sure if she should be. She hasn't been told any of what happened, only that they were found being held hostage in a rebel base. She's not sure if she should believe that. However, it's best if the doctor does.
She swallows, trying not to betray any of what she's thinking. Guiliana hasn't seen any of the Winners since they returned, and that includes the ones that were already here. Alexis and her were brought back here shortly before the others were found. She already hadn't seen Matt for a few days before that. Guiliana assumes that both of them are here. All she has right now is assumptions.
She stays silent as she waits for him to say more. The doctor could've had this conversation in her room, which she has hardly been allowed out of. The fact that he brought her here likely means that he either needs to tell her something else, or needs to ask something of her.
Sure enough, the silence doesn't last long. "I have some people who would like to talk to you this afternoon." When she doesn't respond, he continues. "They have some hesitations about our program. I trust that you understand how important our work is here. We've made huge strides not only in prevention of juvenile crime, but in studies regarding rehabilitation. It's not perfect, but our work is important. It needs to continue, for the health of our society. I trust that you more than anyone else can understand that."
Guiliana doesn't know how to respond. She can see by his mannerisms that the doctor is nervous. She can't recall if she's ever seen him truly sweat before, but even his gaze isn't as steady as it always has been. "Who is it?"
Dr. Liu pauses and she wonders if she's asked the wrong question. In the year she's lived near the hospital, not to mention the two years before that living under its thumb, she's never thought of anyone questioning him. The Cut is broadcast so openly that if the government were going to question it, they would've done so long ago. Unless something's changed.
"The United Nations," he says softly. He tries to sit up straighter, but that somehow makes him look even more uneasy. "They contacted us this morning. We've spoken with them before, but current events have apparently garnered more questions. That's why they've asked to speak to someone directly."
"Me?"
He nods. "I've chosen you. You have a level head on your shoulders, Guiliana. I know that not everything has been easy, but I think you understand the importance of what we're doing here. There is no perfect system, I would never claim otherwise. But The Cut is something that Canadians are proud of. They're proud of what it's done for crime deterrence and they're proud of the young people that the program has produced. You're one of our top examples and, while I know your experience has not been perfect, you understand that things could be much worse. You know that The Cut and our work here at Toronto General has to continue, and that it will benefit you if it does."
Guiliana swallows. He speaks every word like a complete sentence, giving her time to take each in before continuing. She knows what he's trying to insinuate. You understand that things could be much worse. She knows that they could be. It will benefit you. He's asking her to speak on the hospital's, perhaps even on his, behalf. They've somehow caught the attention of the United Nations and he wants Guiliana to fix it.
She puts her hand firmly on the concrete bench, fearing that it will somehow disappear from under her. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know what he will accept her saying. This is a huge ask and Dr. Liu knows that. What if I say no? Guiliana looks at him, the man that's not only kept her prisoner but has also given her countless opportunities. He's asking her to lie for him, for The Cut. He's asking her to lie to the United Nations, a group that might actually be able to help her.
"I would never put this on you if I didn't have to," Dr. Liu continues. "My hope was to never put your friends' safety in any hands but my own. Unfortunately, I have no choice in the matter."
My friends' safety? It feels like all of the blood has been drained from her cheeks. "Are they in danger?"
"Perhaps," he replies. "But I know you'll do what's right for them."
Guiliana can't bring herself to respond, every word gets lost in the dryness at the back of her throat. He's not saying anything directly, but she knows. He isn't asking her to do this for him; he's telling her to. Guiliana hasn't seen the other Winners for so long. Would he keep them from her? Would he hurt them if she refuses to play along?
The stiff calm with which he waits for her response is the only answer she needs.
Alexis adjusts the collar of her shirt again, but it still doesn't sit right. She glances at the guard who sits idly on the chair beside her. He's the same one that is with him most afternoons now, and at this point he doesn't seem to be concerned about her. Alexis hasn't given him any reason to believe that she'll act up.
It's easier to focus on the fact that this is the first time in days she's been allowed regular clothes than on the entity waiting behind that door.
Dr. Liu was clear. The other staff who came in to brief her afterwards were even clearer. There was no longer a sense of hiding what they wanted from Alexis. She had already agreed. They showed her a montage of video and recollections from her time in treatment as well as on The Cut. There were so few moments that she recognized, but she nodded along all the same.
What choice do I have?
Now that she's sitting out here, with everything she's been asked to say all but memorized, Alexis is having second thoughts. She knows what's at stake. The other Winners came back sometime in the last twenty-four hours but that's all she's been permitted to know. She hasn't left her room except to go down to the garden this morning. It feels like weeks, maybe longer, since she's been allowed to truly move. Alexis is blaming that fact for the uneasiness that's been cast all over her body.
She hates them. She hates them so much but she can't let them know that. They used the one thing that Alexis has always loved against her. They've confined her for her own safety. Dr. Liu used to tell her how much he admired her putting her emotions into sports. Now, he's taken all of that away and it was eating her alive even before this. Alexis doesn't know how to see or understand what she's feeling. She's always just let it out. She can't remember the last time she's cried this many tears. It feels like her body is brimming with far too many of them.
Alexis turns to the guard, but before the question even leaves her lips she knows what the answer will be. Your injury isn't healed yet. She doesn't know if that's a lie but regardless she doesn't care. Her body isn't her own right now. It feels weak. She feels weak.
It's the one thing Alexis has always feared she was.
"Come on in." She jumps as the voice comes from just above her, and turns to see the door open. The woman who looks down at her is younger than she expected, her eyes brighter than anyone in the hospital. She looks immediately alien in a way that makes Alexis want to get up and run back down the hall.
The guard nudges her and she shoots up to standing. The woman is only a few inches taller than her, and the heels she's wearing are likely to blame. She has straight hair that doesn't even reach her shoulders and it's so dark it appears nearly black.
"I'm Ebbe Berland, Senior Associate for the Department of Legal Affairs. It's a pleasure." She reaches out one hand and it's several seconds before Alexis even thinks to take it. Ebbe smiles regardless and gives the guard behind her a curt nod. "I'll bring you inside."
"I'll be accompanying Miss Lassiter," the guard says sharply and Ebbe eyes him for a moment before allowing them both inside. Alexis' legs feel like gelatin, but they cooperate. She's never seen this part of the hospital, or any of the rooms on this floor. It's much larger than she expected, with nearly a dozen other people sitting inside. Alexis recognizes a few of them as senior hospital staff.
Her gaze locks with Dr. Liu, who sits second last from the door in the horseshoe arrangement of desks. He smiles at her, but the look in his eyes is something else entirely. Alexis can feel it even when she looks away to take her seat at the center.
She can't help but feel like she's on trial once again, looking at a jury that stares back with nothing but disdain. Alexis clenches her hands together in front of her as they begin to shake. She glances back to where Ebbe had been, but the woman has already taken her seat by the door. The only one still standing is the guard, who stands stiff in front of the door.
"Welcome, Miss Lassiter." It's not Ebbe that's speaking, but the unfamiliar man sitting beside her. He looks her up and down as if all the information he needs is written on her clothing. Alexis tries not to let her nerves show on her face as the man continues with introductions. She doesn't remember a single name after it's said.
"Please tell us about your experience with The Cut reality show and your treatment afterwards at Toronto General Hospital." Alexis bites her tongue. She thought there'd be more direction, more specific questioning. The montage timeline that she'd been forced to watch makes more sense but right now she can remember none of it. Her face feels like it's gone beet red. She doesn't know how she's supposed to start. It feels like everyone is going to immediately know that she's lying.
Her eyes stray to Dr. Liu. One wrong word and it feels like the hospital is going to collapse around her. He was clear this morning. If this goes wrong she'll be to blame. They'll be to blame - all of the Winners. He has every opportunity to hurt them again. Alexis knows what he's capable of.
And the United Nations isn't here to save them. The worst they can authorize are sanctions against the country for unethical treatment. They have no real power here. Alexis doesn't know how true that is, but how can she risk it? She can't and he knows that. She can't risk her friends, but what if this is the only chance they all have? What if it's not a chance at all, but another trap?
"Perhaps we should ease in with more pointed questions." It's Ebbe speaking again. Alexis looks her way, unable to hide the panic in her eyes because she's never felt so unsure. She spent all afternoon learning what to say, but all of it's gone.
She has to do this. The hospital is going to hurt them, is going to hurt her. Alexis tightens her hands so much that her nails bite hard into her palms. She glances across at every face sitting at the surrounding desks. The majority frown, a few with something like a question in their eyes. Alexis isn't a child anymore. It's been years since she won yet she can feel every ounce of fear come flooding back.
"Miss-" Alexis breaks down in tears before he can say another word. She tries to calm her breathing, tries to pull the moisture back but she can't. She doesn't know what to do.
"I think she needs a break." She knows this voice, it's Dr. Liu. Her breathing speeds up even more until it feels like she's going to pass out, but if she does her chance is over. She will have done nothing. She will be letting everyone down at once if she doesn't say something.
She has to choose.
"No," Alexis says quickly. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and bites down another breath. Her voice is nowhere near steady, but the word is clear. She finds Ebbe again, her brows furrowed in what Alexis hopes is concern. She locks onto her, hoping that it will give her enough courage to get through this.
Even if it's for nothing.
Even if it comes back on her later.
Even if she's scared to death.
Matt cowers as the door opens for the first time in what feels like forever. He sits at the top of the cot, his knees pulled in close and the sheets in a tangled pile nearby. He stares at the pair, not knowing what to make of them. He only recognizes the guard at the front, though not by name. The person standing behind him is dressed in a well-fitting suit.
"Come with me."
It takes several seconds before Matt thinks to nod. The guard's face is impassive, showing nothing to indicate what he should be expecting from this visit. He slowly peels himself from the cot, but finds both feet numb beneath him. He can't stop staring at the pair. This all feels too strange.
"What's going on?" His voice is hoarse from disuse. This only proves how long it's been since someone opened that door. This room, much like the one upstairs, doesn't have a clock. It doesn't have almost anything. It's exactly the same as the ones on either side of him, the ones that contained the ex-contestants.
Or used to. Matt doesn't know when the doctor planned to shut down the program. For all he knows, he could be the only one left down here. Most of the time he's been in this room has felt that way.
The man in the suit hurries him outside. "You don't have to speak to them. We have an order to produce you, but anything you say can be held against you."
"Who are you?"
"Harrison Mota, legal representation for television network FFN," he says quickly as he starts through the laboratory. Matt is so confused that he barely remembers to look through the surrounding windows. Every single one of them is dark. "They will ask you questions, but you are under no obligation to respond. It's in your best interest to remain silent and allow me to handle the proceedings."
"Who?" Matt asks, no less confused than before the man spoke. The only person he sees as they move through the room is a single tech in teal scrubs sitting in front of a computer panel. From here, Matt can't see what she's looking at. "What's going on?"
The man stops quickly and turns to face him. "It is in your best interest to remain silent."
Matt stares wide-eyed at the man until he starts walking again. He has no idea what's going on or where he's being taken. Part of him considers stopping and refusing to move again until he's given some kind of answer. The rest of Matt just wants to get as far away from the lab as possible and doesn't care where that takes him.
Eventually, he shuts his mouth and follows the man upstairs and to a room where he's instructed to shower and change. Matt does as he's told, allowing the warm water to run over him until the man bangs on the door to tell him to hurry up. He dresses in a pair of stiff pants and a green button down shirt that feels too new to be comfortable. After that, he's led into an elevator to a part of the hospital he's never seen before.
The woman that opens the door has a concerned frown and short, dark hair that doesn't quite hit her shoulders.
Vito stares at the ground as the room talks around him. It's felt like a whirlwind since he was taken from his hospital room and brought here, and the conversation feels little different. It's too fast for him to follow. He looks up each time he hears his name, but the man in the stiff suit answers for him before Vito can even understand the question.
What's going on?
"Attorney Moto," the woman whose name Vito can't remember says sharply. "Information discovery requires that the subject be permitted an opportunity to speak."
"This is not an interrogation," he replies. "Mr. Zirensky has no obligation to answer, merely to be present."
She raises an eyebrow. "You're correct, Mr. Zirensky is not under interrogation. I might remind you that this is not a court of law and I am not a judge. We are merely here to investigate a human rights complaint, and we have the express authority to do so. Mr. Zirensky is not required to comment, but he will be given the opportunity to engage in dialogue in accordance with international humanitarian law." She pauses, but when the man opens his mouth to reply she continues. "Unless of course, you wish for us to bring this matter to a more public tribunal."
"That won't be necessary." Mr. Soto looks at Vito so intensely that his gaze is forced up to meet him. Vito doesn't understand any of what was just said. He hasn't understood anything since he stepped foot in this room. "Carry on, Ms. Berland."
"Excellent," she says. "Mr. Zirensky, would you like me to repeat the question?"
Vito freezes, his eyes darting quickly between the woman and the man in the suit who has yet to retake his seat. He doesn't know what's going on, but he knows that it's big. He can't have been back in Toronto for more than a couple of days if that. He would bet that the staff didn't want to let him out of his room so soon.
He rubs his wrists where the marks from the restraints would be visible if not for his long sleeve shirt. The man in the suit is the one who brought him here. He's the one who told Vito to shower and to change into the provided clothes in place of his hospital gown. He knows his way around the hospital and didn't seem at all surprised to find Vito tied to a cot.
On the contrary, Ms. Berland is still examining him even now. Every time he's turned his head in her direction she finds him looking at her. She also doesn't seem to be a fan of the lawyer. In their short time together, Vito feels the same way. He just doesn't know what that means in terms of the woman.
There are too many voices that he doesn't recognize. Dr. Liu is here too, but he hasn't said anything at all. Most of the other faces are unfamiliar. All Vito was told is that he shouldn't answer any questions. He doesn't know whether to trust that.
She said she was from the United Nations. Vito remembers learning about them in school, just a few lessons before he was arrested. It might've even been the morning of the shooting. Now, however, Vito can't remember almost anything about what they do. He hasn't been able to hear any of what they've said because of the lawyer's objections.
It feels like he's back in the courtroom. Vito knows that she said that this isn't one, but it feels too familiar. He barely said anything back then either. No matter that Vito tells himself that he doesn't regret taking the blame, he can't lie about how many times he'd wished he'd said something.
"Yes." His voice is timid, so small that Vito sincerely believes the room could swallow it in one gulp. Ms. Berland smiles at him, but it's so fast that he almost doesn't catch it.
"At any point have you or any other contestant on The Cut been held against your will, in this facility or otherwise?"
"Objection!"
"Once again this is not a courtroom, Mr. Soto."
"This is a leading question and I won't allow his rights to be violated."
"Yes."
Vito's eyes widen when he realizes that the very last statement came from him. He sinks down deeper in his chair as the room seems to turn towards him. He can all but feel the lawyer's eyes burning a hole in the side of his skull. He was supposed to be silent. He knows that. Vito understands that going against what he's told doesn't end well. He knows all of this.
He stares at Ms. Berland as tears start to gather in his eyes. He's terrified, so terrified that he can't put it into words. He knows what he's been told, but not who to trust. He knows that choosing wrong is the last thing he wants to do.
Still, when Vito looks at the unfamiliar woman, his eyes beg her to help him.
Ebbe Berland sits in the same seat she's occupied for almost seventeen hours today. Between that and the last minute flight into Canada, she's running on near-empty and the other surrounding task force members look similar. It's part of the job, and not one that Ebbe can say she enjoys. However, in this and most cases, she understands the need for it.
The internal broadcast was the foot in the door that the United Nations needed. They were able to verify that it came from within the Canadian borders within minutes of it starting. The voice too was cross-examined with one the reality show's previous contestants, Zoe Sanford. It was beyond reasonable doubt her voice, which gave another edge to the discovery.
The Canadian government had no choice but to allow this investigation. If word gets out, it would spell disaster for the health of their international relationships. The United Nations created a task force when the reality show was first brought to their attention in 2015. Back then, there was little that could be done. Everything unfortunately checked out, the government had signed waivers and the age of majority had been dropped to sixteen some years before. Since then, the task force has been carefully watching but now-
It's only Ebbe's second year with them, but this still feels like a long time coming. None of them truly believe that what's been happening has been ethical, but of course sometimes their hands are simply tied. It's not an uncommon feeling for the United Nations. Their authoritative powers only go so far.
Now that there's concrete accusations available, Canada has to engage. The alternative would be allowing the information to go to the larger committees, which is the last thing they want. Canada is a large and important part of the United Nations. It's built a reputation for condemning human rights violations. Their situation right now can only be described as precarious and they must tread carefully.
That's where Ebbe and her co-members come in. They've flown in from various countries around the world for one purpose and one purpose only - to get answers for what's happening in the democratic nation.
If only coming to an understanding was ever so simple.
"I'm sure you understand the importance of our program here." Ebbe raises an eyebrow as the Senator speaks. Unlike the interviews themselves, this meeting is centered around the government officials who've called in via web-cam. It's been a long day for all of them. Ebbe is still sipping on a cold cappuccino that someone brought her earlier in the evening. Most of the people in the room are doing the same - task force and staff alike. "The success of crime prevention is unmatched by any other initiative in the past four decades."
"While the United Nations do not doubt the program's success, we are concerned with the methods by which it has attained those results. The interviews this evening have backed up almost all of the complaints brought forth and centered new ones." She thinks specifically of what Matthew said regarding the keeping of former contestants. "I don't feel the need to remind you of Article 5 of the Universal Declaration."
No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment. Violation of this article is the grounds for which the task force is here today.
"I am well informed on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, thank you. This method of public service is certainly unprecedented, that I will readily admit. However, just because your committee is unable to understand the need for such a program does not mean that it is in violation."
Ebbe takes another slight sip of cold espresso. It feels like they've been going in circles all evening, and they're no closer to a resolution. When she was younger within the ranks of the organization, she didn't understand that the United Nations did not simply have the power to stop violations. In fact, the longer she remains employed with them, the less power she realizes they truly have. It's all in the negotiations.
"I'm not certain that the wider committee would agree with your position," Ebbe says carefully. "However, if you are confident that they would, we would be content to release our investigative notes to them effective tomorrow morning."
She looks to her right, where her co-member gives the slightest nod. At this point, this is all the ammo they have. The task force has to trust that the Canadian government will not want this information released even semi-publically. The threat of sanctions and general distrust from other nations has to be enough of a deterrence or they'll get nowhere.
The Senator pauses for long enough that Ebbe starts to fidget in her seat. There are almost half a dozen representatives involved in this discussion, but he is the only one who has spoken thus far. She recognizes him from the files she pulled for the flight so she could get familiar with who she'd be dealing with. Senator Steiner has purportedly been a strong supporter of The Cut since he took office.
"What sort of criteria would need to be met for our positions to land on the same page?"
Ebbe lets out the breath she'd been holding as slowly as she can, trying not to betray her relief. This is not an agreement, but at least it's proof that the United Nations has some pull in this situation. It's a start.
She thinks back to the evening's interviews. They went far differently than she or anyone else had expected. Hospital staff stated that only two of the former contestants would be available for questioning. However, after their admissions, negotiations were made to speak with the remaining five. The United Nations had evidence that they were within the bounds of the hospital save for one special circumstance. Unfortunately, the one they were unable to get hold of was Zoe Sanford herself. She was found not to be located on the premises.
Every single one of the Winners admitted to maltreatment by the network, and by association the government of Canada, that amounted to human rights violations. Illegal confinement, torture, punishment that by all accounts could be considered inhuman. Besides Article 5, there are at least two more articles that can be considered through what was brought forth.
Ebbe's heart went out to each one of them as they left the meeting room. She didn't know what would happen to them once they were out of her view. She trusted that the network would not be so rash as to do away with them. The task force would surely ask to see all of them again, which is all the protection they can offer at this early point. Ebbe will make certain that more will be worked into an eventual agreement if at all possible.
Even if it takes all night, all week, they will force their way into some kind of agreement. Ebbe has to believe in her team and in the progress they've been able to make so quickly. It has to be enough.
The survivors' bravery can't be for nothing.
As the Commander sits across from the young man, he can't help but stare. He's dirty and damp with rain from the journey. He's alone, but the Commander cannot bring himself to be even the slightest bit disappointed in that. He didn't know if he would ever see Levi again.
He hasn't yet come up with something to say. Levi hasn't even lifted his gaze since he arrived outside the bunker. Luckily, one of the patrol cameras spotted him before anyone else could. Levi was offered the best meal they could find and a place to rest from the journey. However, Levi refused both in favour of an immediate meeting with the Commander.
"You look well," he says finally. His definition of well has fallen in the past day. In the old Tower, it meant fed and clean and with minimal bags under the eyes. Here, it simply means alive.
So many of the Protestors have not made it here yet. The Commander has not allowed himself to give up hope that they will. The numbers left in the Tower were few, only the most trusted members with roles that the bunker could not go without. Still, any loss at this point weighs heavy on his chest.
They'll rebuild, they always do.
They've gotten far too good at it in the past few years.
Levi looks up, his face twisted into something that he never expected to see from the young man. He looks on the verge of tears, with dirt streaks betraying earlier ones. His eyes, however, are what catch him completely off guard. They speak before his words have the chance. "Where were you?"
He opens his mouth to respond, but there are no words waiting. He's never seen Levi like this.
Nevermind the fact that no answer feels good enough.
"Where were you?" This time, Levi's words are less an accusation and more a whimper. The Commander's shoulders shrink as he watches the young man, one of his most trusted members, break down in tears.
"I had duties-" He starts, but the words feel so weak.
"I thought you cared," Levi interrupts. "I doubted a lot of things but I never doubted that. Not until today. Everyone you left, they're not coming back. The Winners have been taken. All of them."
Nothing the Commander can even think to say in response feels adequate. He does care. He cares about all of them, but he abandoned them. He thought the bunker would hold long enough to complete the broadcast. Then, when the alarms started, he ran.
Like a coward.
He told himself that there wasn't enough time to get everyone out. He told himself they were smart enough, strong enough, brave enough to get themselves out. He did nothing to help them. If what Levi said is true, and all of the members he left behind are dead, their blood is on his hands alone.
"We trusted you." The Commander closes his eyes. He knows what Levi's next words will be, but he still forces himself to hear them. "And you abandoned us."
"You're right."
Once again, he ran away when things got hard. He never put himself on the front lines, believing that he would be the one to lead them to change when all he's ever done is lead them to agony. How many people have trusted their lives to him only to lose it? And what does he have to show for it?
Nothing. They're back at the beginning.
He's no closer to keeping his promise.
The cameras had already been cut to her lab, but he could still hear her. The Commander was in his office alone when the message came. It all happened so fast, he didn't have time to call anyone to fix the connection.
"Commander to M2." He whispered. He rarely dared use the audio feature, but this was not an ordinary situation. She'd sent out a distress signal in the late hours of the night. The Commander couldn't get a visual on her. He didn't know if she was alright.
Surveillance detected nothing amiss on the property. The only difference compared to every other building report was the fact that the security systems had been cut off. The Commander didn't yet know if she'd done it herself, or if it'd been someone else.
His heart had been in his throat as he waited for a response. All he wanted to do was shout her name, but it was too dangerous. If she was alright, she would answer. Elise knew their radio protocols, he'd taught her them himself years ago. Back when he didn't know what to think of the young woman who'd killed his son. Back before he understood that the Winners were as much victims of The Cut as Lucas was.
He placed a hand on the photograph he kept in his shirt pocket. It'd been there since his son was sent to prison years prior, but took on new meaning after he passed. The Commander once swore he'd take revenge on the person who took his son from him. Now, he was begging her to answer her call sign.
He swallowed down the dryness in his throat and tried again. "Commander to M2."
"M2." The response was muffled, but it was her. There was no question.
"Commander to M2, what's going on?"
"I don't know, Commander. My controls aren't responding."
His heart leapt into his throat. He could hear the fear in her words, the way that her strained whisper barely reached the mic. "Elaborate."
"There's-"
The line went dead and everything around the Commander seemed to stop. He typed furiously on his computer to bring up the drone footage from her property. The feed he finally got did not look at the North Bay home; the drone had been blown out of the sky.
"M2!" The Commander shouted, no longer caring about being quiet. He sent alarms to every remote bunker on his map. He never wanted to use them. He still hoped that he wouldn't have to. The remote bunkers were in place to gather the Winners should the need arise, should their safety be in jeopardy. Elise demanded the initiative herself, in case things went south with the set break.
They were never supposed to need them.
"Commander to M2!" He tried again.
Nothing.
He finally got the drone back into the sky, but what he saw made his heart threaten to stop altogether. His hands shook against the keyboard as he saw the remnants of her laboratory - the entire thing ablaze. He looked carefully, remembering where the radio communication was set up. Audio equipment was in multiple places, but she tapped in manually. That meant-
The office. He couldn't even find a single trace of it. The walls had been blown completely outward. It looked like the explosion had started from that very room.
There was no chance.
"Commander to M2." His voice had lost all intensity. He knew that she was not going to respond, but something wouldn't let him stop. The best he could hope for was that she could no longer hear him, but if she could- "Commander to M2."
"Final call, Commander to M2."
It was a tradition in his old occupation. Everyone gets their final call, it's considered an honour and a gesture of utmost respect once one's duties had ended. The Commander got his when he retired over a decade ago. Even if he was the only one to hear, he would give Elise hers.
"Rest easy." He choked on the words that no one but him could hear. "We'll take it from here." Tears gathered as the Commander prepared to launch the operation he always hoped would never come. "I promise."
The Commander closes his eyes as his hands begin to tremble beneath the table. It's been so long since he's thought about what happened that night. He accepted Elise Morton's help for years, she was absolutely integral to the Protestors' work, and he hadn't kept his promise. He hadn't done all he could to stop the show, to keep the people involved safe. Levi is right.
"I'm sorry," the Commander says softly. He reaches across the table, extending a hand to the young man that he's come to think of like a son. Lucas was nothing like Levi is, but that was never his fault. The Commander and his ex-wife didn't raise his son in the safety he should have. He let him down, just as he let his members down tonight. That won't stand. "Please, give me one last chance."
Levi looks at the open palm, but he doesn't take it. Instead, he looks up at the Commander with eyes brimming with tears. "You can't fix this."
The Commander lets out a slow breath. "I know, but I made a promise that I would do everything that I could. I have not done that, but I'm not going to let that continue." He pauses, thinking through what he's about to say. It feels selfish, but the simple fact is that he can't do this on his own. "Please, one more chance. The finale of this season is tomorrow. The country will be watching, and after tonight they're finally listening. We still have time."
He hopes that he's right.
A/N: I have no idea why this had to be 12k but we all survived so I guess it's fine. This is incredibly subplot heavy and refers to events in the previous two stories. If you have any questions or are confused about anything, feel free to ask.
Next chapter will be the finale. Good luck to our remaining contestants and their parents.
~ Olive
