Exposure. It was the only thought that stuck in her mind.

The Familiars had found her out.

The knowledge that Ames White had sought to make her pay before he destroyed her once and for all made Jondy want nothing more than to forget the past six months- if for only a moment. The hum of the motor lulled softly over her ears, purring and comforting, and for the first time in months the anxiety in her stomach lessened. Barely conscious of her surroundings, her eyes remained closed as the hum-vee spiriting her away rocked as it rounded a bend, easing her into the warm comfort of sleep.

"- tough… lasted this long."

A voice from the front filtered in and out of her hearing, her consciousness caught between the real ache of her body and the bliss of sleep. She groaned, curling into the warmth beside her, seeking the profound sense of safety she found there.

"Never, ever… special ops-"

She drew in a deep breath, welcoming arms of darkness and rest.

"That kid never stood a chance in Haiti..."

All she wanted was quiet.

"One of… was the best."

Outside light flickered over her eyes, reminding her of sleepless weeks, lazer beams and propaganda. She shuddered surrounded by the haze of her exhausted will. A whimper escaped her. Her head ached.

"- injuries?"

"Standard POW." The body she snuggled into shifted slightly, tensing.

The momentum of the hum-vee halted at the sound of gears grinding, it abruptly swayed and pulled Jondy from her slumber, but she didn't open her eyes. Her throat tickled.

"Damn- she'd be what? 21?" exclaimed that other voice from the front, younger than the rest.

"19." Another corrected gravely.

"Jesus."

She shifted languidly, her hand sleepily coming up to brush her face. Her arm jarred at the movement when pain shot from her elbow to her fingertips. Her eyes opened blindly in reflex and she bit her lip to keep from crying out, bloodying her mouth.

"Cameron! Shut up!" Admonished a hushed voice close to her.

Perplexed by darkness and shadow outside her internal sleep scape, Jondy closed her eyes. Biting down on the pain, she forcibly relaxed, chasing her slumber.

The vehicle accelerated and an item in the trunk crashed loudly into the passenger partition of the hum-vee. In her dream it was as loud as a mortar hitting the barren and bloodied quad of Terminal City. Jondy was surrounded by the foul stench of death before she jerked awake to meet startled brown eyes. Hurling herself as far away as she could get from the stranger, the back of her head thudding into the glass window, disoriented and gasping in panic the X5 struggled to ascertain her position. Then, she saw the male beside her make to grab her, pin her down and hold her still.

"No!"

Powered by adrenaline, Jondy lashed out, her foot connecting hard with his ribs.

"Touch me," she hissed roughly to the coughing man, yanking the seat belt from its pulley socket, "it'll be the last thing you do you S.O.B."

In one swift movement Jondy pulled it taught between her hands and pressed it flush against his throat. The analytical part of her mind scanning for injuries and her geographical whereabouts noted she was in no position to carry through on her threat. He could overpower her in an instant.

"It's okay…" The man began, his voice raspy against her strangulation efforts. He wore a plain navy blue t-shirt over his body armor now. He winced. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He spoke with a rich, calming, baritone.

Yes. Yes you are. You are. You are. You are.

White spots danced before her eyes.

She couldn't breathe. The pseudo-rope fell to the floor, forgotten.

Her hands flew to her bruised throat.

- Oh God, she couldn't breathe.

She was going to die here, in this cell…

"I can't… I need air…" she found herself pleading involuntarily. "Please- I-"

Where was she? She didn't know where she was!

In the front, Cameron glanced to Lydecker, seeking permission to pull the vehicle over.

"Keep driving, son," came the stern order of the Colonel.

The driver's jaw clenched. Cameron saw the necessity of the order, felt the cruelty of it acutely. The girl was having a panic attack, for chrissakes. She had been raped and abused and now she was have a natural reaction to being surrounded by strange men in a fricken hum-vee. What did Lydecker expect? Perfection, he knew.

"Please- I-" came the desperate plea of the pale young woman.

"O'Neil." Lydecker barked, addressing the backseat. "Calm her down or sedate her. Execute a plan."

Thinking quickly, O'Neil did his best impression of a Drill Sergeant as he placed a finger beneath her chin and forced the teenager to look him in the eye.

Jondy stared at him, luminous blue eyes wide, her thin frame tense and ramrod straight.

Warm arms and blaring alarms- he is part of the extraction team.

"Take a deep breath. Focus." O'Neil commanded, suspecting that was all one could do when under the grip of a panic attack.

She let out a shaky breath and nodded stiffly, before inhaling and exhaling through swollen lips and jaw.

"Better?" O'Neil questioned, his eyes raking over her gaunt figure assessing the bruising and damage to her body. Had she had teeth pulled?

She left out a small sigh at the enormity of the question. God, it hurt to talk.

She nodded.

"Ok." He placed a non-threatening hand on her shoulder, noting she was beginning to look incredibly pale. "Sit over here."

He gestured to the space between O'Neil and Kilan she had occupied before awakening, acknowledging her dazed nod of her head.

The 09 X5 were in a class of their own, O'Neil thought wearily watching the teenager carefully. They were dangerous and unpredictable... and yet, understandable in their quest for self-determination. He never had enjoyed the pang of sympathy he had experienced whenever he and his teammates had come face to face with their ilk in the past.

Jondy cast her gaze down to the t-shirt she wore, feeling numb. It was a man's. It hung to her knees and the sleeves fell past her elbows. She knew would look she so young to the others, a child in dress-up clothes, yet closing her eyes for a moment to gather her strength Jondy knew she was the oldest there in that van. Deciding she would not cry, she stifled a grimace at the purple bruises marring her wrists while gingerly untangling her bruised and bloodied legs with swollen hands. O'Neil aided her stilted movement to her new position so that Jondy sat with her legs curled beneath her, slumped against the backseat. Between her legs stung sorely and she was aware that she was naked beneath whomever's t-shirt she wore.

"This is Captain Mike Kilan." O'Neil introduced the man at her other side.

Unable to see out of her left eye, Jondy turned her head and glanced at the man beside her, before landing her tired gaze on the back of Lydecker's head. She wanted to know what the son of a bitch was up to.

In the front the driver murmured something to Lydecker.

"Lydecker?" Jondy questioned hoarsely as she lent heavily into her seat, head tilted to the roof, chest sore. In the stillness of the van her voice carried. "Is Zane alive? Is he ok?"

She couldn't look at him- not now that the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, to affirm her gross incompetence. In her peripheral vision she saw the bane of her childhood turn around to face her, his face impassive and stony.

"You will address me with proper respect, soldier."

Jondy read his tone for what it was: a warning.

Kilan saw some dark look cross the girl's face before she swallowed her pride, her eyes dull. For some reason he could not help feeling short changed- the only time Donald Lydecker ever got put in his place was when he encountered one of his precious 'kids'. And every time Kilan was present at such an exchange of words was a privilege in his eyes. He knew this girl had a fiery mouth.

"Pardon me." Jondy bit out dryly, removing her gaze from a higher vantage point to meet Lydecker's sharp eyes. None of her other muscles moved. She held her anger close, gleaning strength from the emotion. "I've been remiss of good company for so long, I've misplaced my manners."

Her tone was sarcastic, if not haughty. Lydecker, however, saw her weariness beneath the well-constructed façade- he knew his own methods when he encountered them. Jondy looked incredibly pale, he observed. Her usually ivory complexion was greying as the seconds ticked by.

"I see." He spoke curtly, controlling himself and assessing his environment behind a veiled gaze.

With mounting irritation, Jondy inferred by his tone that he wished her to explain herself further: it reignited the smoldering burn of hate she reserved for her former mentor.

"I was enquiring as to the status of X5-789…" She could not prevent her strong tone from hollowing out, nor could she prevent the instantaneous comprehension that dawned behind Lydecker's critical gaze as she fought to maintain control. Her eyesight hazed over, her head pounded. She wanted to cry, to be sick. Jondy swallowed, closing her eyes briefly and shook her head.

She could not be weak in front of him.

"Jondy?" Lydecker questioned, concerned.

Weakness is not acceptable.

She sucked in a breath, blinking as she tried to focus on Lydecker, her breathing shallow.

"Colonel Lydecker, I was hoping you would be so… obliging as to inform me of his status." Jondy coughed, the revolting after-taste of vomit ghosting through her mouth. "Sir."

Lydecker brushed aside her derision and plainly saw her struggle with the exhaustion that infiltrated her body.

"He's fine, Jondy." Lydecker answered heavily, knowing the platitude to be inaccurate.

At his words she sat forward, ignoring the stab of pain in her abdomen. Lydecker recognized the eagerness that consumed her gaze from her childhood years and he felt a deep disappointment at how easily she gave herself away.

"Where he is? Is he in the country? Is he alive?" Jondy bit out desperately, her precarious emotions threadbare for all to take advantage of. "Tell me!"

If Zane were dead, she felt she would lose her will to live. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

"He is safe, Jondy." Lydecker assured, brow creased in concern: he knew that if she wound herself up any further he would have a problem on his hands. "Any other information is classified."

"Then declassify it!" Jondy cried indignantly, jaw working stiffly and painfully. She was desperately tired of fighting, of not knowing. The cavern of the vehicle spun and ire burned in her belly. For what seemed like the millionth time in her life she damned Lydecker to hell.

O'Neil shot Kilan a concerned glance, leaning down to press his fingers to the leather upholstery. He raised them behind Jondy, red and bloodied. Kilan glanced to the X5 and O'Neil nodded.

"Such emotion is unbecoming, Jondy." Lydecker replied coldly, eyes on his men. "I suggest you calm down before you do yourself further injury." Something warm, thick and sticky slid slowly down her cold leg. "We will be at our destination soon."

His tone brooked no argument and as she mentally assessed herself, Jondy realized she had no energy left to fight.

Do with me what you will.

She glanced down, unchecked tears rolling down her cheeks, to see blood stains blooming across the cotton weave of the t-shirt. Closing her eyes, she lent back into the seat, feeling heavy and lethargic.

She couldn't bear to look at Lydecker…she hated him... she really did…

With the knowledge that Zane was safe, she could leave the world now and it would be okay.

He was safe.

O'Neil felt as her heavy weight fell onto him and his eyes widened in horror at the blood soaking the lower half of Cameron's t-shirt.

"Sir! X5-210's crashing!" O'Neil glanced at Kilan in alarm as he attempted find a pulse.

"Cameron pull over!" Lydecker ordered and the hum-vee came to a screeching halt on the out skirts of Wyoming. "O'Neil assess the damage. Kilan monitor her vitals. Do everything you can to keep her alive!"

"Sir, wouldn't it be better-" Cameron begun.

"None of my kids die on my watch, son." Lydecker cut him off, shoving open the hum-vee door. "She is a valuable asset for winning this war- meaning we patch her up as best we can now. Monitor communications." He bit out to his driver.

"Yessir."

O'Neil watched the X5's luminous blue eyes flutter, the girl fighting to stay conscious. He glanced up at his alarmed teammate.

"Kilan, get up here at her head, cover her from head to toe. You're going to have to brace her fricken legs." O'Neil paused, thinking fast. "I'm gonna need room to work. You need to monitor her pulse and pass swabs and whatever the hell else we have here."

"Where the hell is the first aid kit?" Kilan barked.

When no response was forthcoming, O'Neil threw Kilan a box of tissues, the closest thing to swabs he had on him at that moment, before getting out of the car quickly. Pulling a hunting knife from his boot he searched his pockets for a lighter and ran to the other side of the vehicle. Standing in the open doorway he observed the young woman's semi-conscious state and vacant expression.

Kilan got onto his former seat and shut the door behind him, then pulled her prone figure onto his lap whilst he lent against the door for support. The girl let out a low groan at the movement.

"Bloody kid weighs a ton," Kilan griped as he threw a blanket over her fragile body, tucking it under her chin.

The older man had had four kids of his own, O'Neil remembered. He watched as Kilan quickly pulled the girls legs up towards her hips and held them in position by the ankles. He pushed aside his discomfort at the whimper she emitted and the tears that rolled down her cheeks to focus on the task at hand. Behind him, he heard Lydecker on his cell. O'Neil got into the vehicle, taking in the dried and sticky blood covering her thighs, he moved closer to assess the damage she had suffered at the hands of the enemy.

"Jesus." O'Neil hissed as he began swiftly absorbing blood and removing congealed semen from her inner walls, seeing the cause of his bloodied seat.

Above him he heard her barely bite back a cry of pain as her legs jerking reflexively. Jondy grunted in frustrated protest as Kilan fought to make sure he held her firmly in place.

"It's okay sweetie." The elder man soothed over the whimpers of the starved girl.

In other circumstances O'Neil would have laughed at the Corporal, but now was not the time.

"Those bastards." O'Neil hissed to himself. His hands continued delving until he removed one pair of gloved and bloodied fingers. He had found the tear.

He met Kilan's green eyes and saw his teammates mouth form a thin line. One had to be an evil son of a bitch to abuse a woman, revved up or not. Grimly, O'Neil took off his belt, passing it over to Kilan. Despite her seemingly disoriented state, Jondy's eyes widened in understanding before she began struggling to get away from those saving her life, panting in fear, elbows and teeth gnashing. O'Neil observed that however human she appeared, she was an animal at her core. Kilan's expression was stony as he forced open the girls jaw, placing the leather belt over her teeth like a bit and forced her to clamp down on it.

"Need the antiseptic and swabs here, Mike."

The items were passed over. Kilan captured the teenager's leg before it caught O'Neil in the jaw and set it back in place. A moment later, O'Neil was preparing the wounded area for cauterization. Quickly, he pulled out his lighter, flame bursting fourth and submerged the tip of his hunting knife. When it glowed red, he removed it and with one significant glance at Kilan, applied the blade to the bleed.

He never once glanced at the X5's face.

Outside Lydecker hung up his cell and stood, rooted by morbid curiosity. The muffled screams of X5-210 filled his ears like a wounded animal before they slowly died down to painful sobs.

O'Neil assessed the site one last time, certain that it was no longer bleeding and looked up. The X5 had her head burrowed into Kilan's lap as the elder man soothed her, stroking backwards and forwards around her hairline as sobs wracked her tiny frame.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to the proud gaze of his Colonel. "Good job, Captain. This one never did have much of a tolerance for pain."

O'Neil nodded.

"Sir, we need to get going-" Cameron advised anxiously over the rooftop of the car, breath visible in the cold night air. "We stay here any longer- the enemy will get wind of us-"

"Don," O'Neil addressed his commander by his first name, turning away from the scene before him. Her situation was urgent. "She needs a transfusion- the quicker she gets one the better."

Lydecker nodded, shutting the passenger side door for O'Neil and got into his own seat as they pulled out, Jondy curled up in Kilan's lap, exhausted beneath the blanket thrown over her.


Far away, Zane followed the North Star.


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