Amongst the bodies of the slain officers, the NSA found a female corpse on the beach. Or so they thought. Frozen and stiff-limbed. Shivering. The only body that moved amongst the other rent, contorted corpses. They'd already started lining the casualties in neat rows with white shrouds. Weapons stacked neatly for cataloguing. No one said anything to Anna. The unbearable surge of adrenaline from earlier had drained all her energy and she didn't resist when the helicopters came. She could barely hear the clattering blades. Or struggle against the gloved hands that dragged her onboard.
Instead of Fort Meade, the helicopter landed at Walter Reed Hospital. A military-run outfit she'd visited a few times for checkups. Despite being able to walk, the nurses still strapped her into a gurney and wheeled her into an intensive care ward. The silence was unnerving. Clipboards handed from person to person. Doctors came and went. Checking vitals. Peering into her eyes with torchlights. Her brain broke when they wheeled in a thermal scanner and pointed it directly at her. Already she could see Elsa's smile in the living room. Feel the curve of her jaw in her hands. Eyes fluttering shut as they kissed. That gentle way she'd curl herself into Anna's neck moments before falling asleep.
Elsa's gone.
Fluttering blonde braid disappearing over the horizon. Astride a water-horse which defied physics and added another dose of reality she'd conveniently swept aside. That this woman wasn't of this world. An alien, mystical part of herself kept hidden behind coy smiles and tender, affectionate words. I've never trusted anyone until I met you. How steadfast her devotion was until the frigid end. Had it all been an elaborate lie? A manipulation of her confidence meant to lead her to the ocean where she could make her escape? They'd visited rivers and streams countless times, Elsa could've summoned that watery freak of nature from anywhere. The more Anna thought about it, the more she realised that Elsa willingly kept herself in the cage of a one-storey house. Subjecting herself to degrading medical examinations. Purely just to be with her. Given how utterly, frighteningly powerful Elsa was, she could've walked away at any given second.
It was all useless in the end. Elsa's gone. Her absence like a deep void carved into the pit of her soul. A woman she searched for her entire life. Vanished in the blink of an eye. Nurses came to wheel her into a single-bed ward. Dinner alone in the windowless room. A bowl of clam chowder. Anna looked at the bowl of slop. No herbs or black pepper. She bent her head over the soup. Memory of Elsa's first attempt at cooking still playing on her head in an infinite loop. Eyes fell shut as she shuddered - right before she cupped her face and wept.
Perhaps the doctors drugged her chowder. Anna didn't even recall falling asleep. Waking and finding her phone mysteriously by the bed. No messages from Hans. Three whole days had passed while she was asleep and they must've re-sedated her several times. The IV was still strung up with its plug disconnected. Her head spun. She hadn't even begun to process what happened in Portland. SWAT officers out of nowhere. Barricades and ambushes. Pointless violence and loss of life. It'd all been an elaborate ploy to lure Elsa out and wring out the fireworks they'd so desperately sought for with the soft option. In essence, this was the NSA going hard. Consequences still unknown. Her own firing was definitely in the books. Though she didn't know if it was going to be a termination letter or against the wall with a blindfold. Hope they give me a last cigarette. After what happened, she'd be lucky to receive a blindfold.
The only text she'd received in three days came from Carol. Announcing in an expletive-laden message that Marie had finally racked up one too many DUIs and had to spend time in the clink. Her only other question was about Elsa. Whether she'd be seeing her again.
Anna (10:24am): she doesn't like America much, going back to Norway so I don't think so :(
She set her phone facedown. Pressing her eyes into the heel of her palm and attempting to stave off that well of tears again. Stop. Stop. Stop. Through the cracks between her fingers she made out a freshly dry-cleaned and pressed pantsuit. Mysteriously strung up on the wall. The same one she wore for her first panel interview. Oh boy.
As if she's being watched. A suited man knocked on the door the instant she finished showering and dressing. Nurses came in and packed her belongings in a bag.
"Let me guess," Anna said to his Raybans, "you're taking me to Fort Meade, and I don't have a choice in this matter."
He didn't even answer. She's hogmarched out of the hospital to face the same drill. Tossed into an awaiting Chevy Tahoe. Blistering speed down the freeway. Twice the number of drones buzzing in the air. Anna leaned back into the leather seat and contemplated the last 29 years of her life. Fuck up after fuck up. Ending with the biggest fuck up of her-
No.
She swallowed back the thought as yet another reality struck her veins. This wasn't even remotely close to a fuck up. Someone else fucked it up and she was about to take the fall for it. She'd tried her best, done everything by the book. Falling in love with Elsa was the one thing that could've led down the wrong path but she hadn't let it cloud her judgement. No. She'd walk to the firing squad with her head held high. Stare the security officers in the face as every little item on her is confiscated, short of the clothes on her back. Instead of being released on her level, the escorting suit accompanied her down the featureless hallway. Anna took the time to observe the movements of his blazer. A gun strapped to a holster. Another holster on his belt, obscured by the jacket. Without further directions, he pointed at a steel door.
"Is this where you're going to put a bullet in my head?" Anna asked, staring down her impending fate.
"After you, ma'am."
What a polite lil' fellow. They must be sending them to etiquette courses.
Without so much as a knock, Anna shoved the door open.
Hans sat behind his desk. A beaming smile on his face. She's immediately crippled by a desire to punch him. At least she'd get that satisfaction before getting put out of her misery.
"Great job," Hans clapped slowly, rising to his feet, "we're promoting you. Advisor-in-chief of this programme. Effective immediately."
Wait, what?
"I lost her," Anna seethed, "after your goons showed up."
"Perfection," Hans mimicked a chef's kiss, "we have everything we need now."
"For what?"
He ignored her question, "Your first task, as head of this programme. Is to track her down and get her back."
Fury slammed into Anna like a winter storm. Her entire face blazed. Petite stature bore the trembling rage of an exploding supernova. In her lightheadedness, Anna faltered a step back. The escorting suit held out a hand for support; revealing, in the flash of the moment, what his other holster contained.
Without so much as thinking, Anna turned and grabbed his taser. She'd only used it once in training. The memory enough to jam it into his neck and hit activate. All six feet of muscular mass fell to the ground twitching. Hans jerked backwards and hit his head on the wall. Within a second, she had him in her sights and clicked deploy. Two prongs leapt out and blasted 50,000 volts into his body. The stuffy bureaucrat fell over and hit his head one more time on the desk. Anna turned and slammed the door shut. Steel door cracked hard into the escort's skull. She took her time to stride over and yank Hans up by the collar.
Before giving him an almighty, overdue punch in the face.
"That's for lying to me that you were in Montana."
"I was in Montana."
She punched him again anyway. Hans lurched towards his desk, only to get yanked backwards by the collar. Her fists stung. But she betrayed none of the agony as she reached for the taser and returned it to stun mode. The glowering look in Han's face as he slouched on the carpet was replaced with utter fear. She would've thought this bloodied mess on the floor would've given her some satisfaction for the way he's treated Elsa and herself. She found none, only wanting answers.
Anna squatted and tapped his cheek with the taser. Activating it once just so he could see the crackling arc and understand she meant business.
"We're gonna play a game," Anna said slowly, "I ask you a question and you give me an answer. Answer wrong and this goes in your balls."
"Fuck you. I'm your boss," Hans spat.
"You really want to go down this road?" Anna pointed at his crotch, precariously spread out between her knees.
"Fine."
She hadn't really rehearsed this moment, expecting to be shot the moment she stepped in. Still she asked anyway, "What is Elsa here for?"
Hans scoffed and looked away, "That doesn't count. Or matter. You already know the answer to that."
"It can't be true," Anna shook her head.
"It is."
"Elsa is here to solve global warming?"
"You're as smart as they made you out to be," Hans shrugged.
"So what, you're an environmentalist now?"
"I'm not an environmentalist," Hans shook his head, glaring at her through livid eyes, "I'm a realist. I listen to facts. Take orders. Make orders. Practical."
"Orders from who?" Anna asked, before another piece clicked in her head, "No - you couldn't-"
"Yes. They came. From the future. It was how we got our hands on the technology in the first place."
"And Elsa?"
"Listen to me," Hans tried to hold her unwavering glare, "they've had a series of meetings since before I was born. There is no war more important. No international squabble that holds precedence. No hope for humanity if we can't get this right. The ship has sailed a long time ago and this is irreversible no matter how many treaties and protocols they come up with. The world is going to end and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Except this."
"You're not serious," Anna held him by the collar.
"I don't think the previous administrations believed them either. Until they kept coming back again, and again. With the technology - they allowed us to view an earth on the brink of destruction."
"Wait - since before you were born?"
Hans kept quiet. Once again, beneath the bravado, his silence unnerved her more than anything. Usually an indicator of deceit. This time, she held a taser in her hands. Waving it around until he relented.
"Go check the files if you want. Top cabinet. Keys are in my drawer."
"Oh, I will," Anna sneered, "I want to hear it from your sodden mouth first."
"1979," Hans shut his eyes, as though revealing the truth hurt him, "As I said. Before we were born."
"You don't expect me to believe you've been trying to get one person through your magical time machine all this while."
"No, I don't expect you to believe that."
"But?"
Hans looked away. Anger flared within her and she activated the taser an inch away from his neck. Singing his skin and evoking an almighty yelp.
"You clearly know everything and still you want to hide from me?" Anna growled in his face, "What gives you the fucking right-"
"They tried, ok? The programme wasn't even under me! God! As I said - before we were born!"
"Tried?"
"Yes! All manner of times. Every single attempt failed so far until you!"
"What do you mean failed?"
"She died! They couldn't even keep her in for more than twenty-four hours. The last attempt I supervised lasted a total of twelve fucking minutes out of sedation."
Anna paused. Lowered the taser. The harshness of Hans's confession caught up to her in rapid, heaving breaths and she hadn't even gotten all the answers yet.
"How many times?" Anna slowed her voice to a drawl.
"Does it matter?"
"If you want to feel your balls again, yes."
"Six."
Anna screamed, "What?"
"The programme started in 1979," Hans continued his ice-cold stare, "we went back to get her six times. Each time, a fragment of a second further back so there'd be another copy of Elsa. You do the math. Just how much work is involved. And why we get so fucking pissed when things don't work out."
"What do you mean don't work out?"
"She killed everyone!" Hans's voice broke, "three times that girlfriend of yours murdered enough staff with her powers that she had to be put down. And thrice she straight up committed suicide."
Blood drained from Anna's face. She slumped down. "You'd never gotten her out of the NSA's basement."
"Until you."
"Oh my god," Anna covered her face, "why me?"
"Because," Hans's voice broke into a stutter, "I told them it'd be better to use the carrot instead of the stick. The soft approach. I figured the NSA had spent enough money on failing hard enough to try something else. It's not like giving up was an option unless they want to watch the world burn. I mean, literally. Burn."
Anna shook her head. Puzzle pieces swirled around in a maelstrom. None of them made any sense. The hardened instinct of investigative work crept through the fog. Dates and places and activities. 1979. Six attempts. Each time ending in dismal failure. Hans shifted away, hands limp beside him.
"It doesn't make any sense," Anna edged closer, "you expect me to believe the NSA spent 48 years on this project and brought her back six times?"
"You have any idea how difficult time travel is?" Hans stared at her. She would've missed it if she blinked. That slight flick of his eyes sideways towards the suited escort. Still clutching his throat and grimacing.
"Bad move," Anna growled, before flicking on the taser and jamming it into his thigh. The blood-curdling scream lit up the office. He flexed hard before going limp. "You've got a shit poker face."
"I swear I'm not-"
"Tell me everything!" Anna yelled. The taser crackled. She thought the frantic wave of Hans's hands meant to swipe it from hers. But there it was again - pointing randomly at his desk. His eyes flared with fear. Wordlessly pleading not to hurt him. Immediately, she got up and found the keys to his locked cabinets. Files and dossiers tightly bound in red folders. Every single one of them classified TOPSECRET/SCI. A random flip through earlier antiquated, typewritten reports confirmed Hans's confession. Project Timegate started in 1979 after extensive interviews with time travellers who requested an audience with the CIA. The futuristic technology and bioengineered augmentation they carried were enough credentials that they weren't fucking around. As expected, the government promptly commenced a study to determine how time travel could win the Cold War.
Idiots.
Ten years passed in fervent refusal to cooperate. The travellers made it clear. Elsa. Elsa. Elsa. They'd viewed our timeline any number of times and found only one outcome without a planet left in smouldering ruin. The government spent more money finding a way to kill the messengers and confiscate their technology. Effectively terminating any chance of solving this issue amicably. That was, until atmospheric temperatures spiked in the 90s and the issue became abundantly clear.
"How is this possible?"
Hans stirred on the ground, seething through gritted teeth, "You and me - we're not that much different. At the end of the day, we're just sweeping up a fucking mess."
She'd reached the end of the dossier. The other cabinets were filled with records of failed attempts to bring Elsa back. Budgetary accounts. How much money they'd spent to refurbish the basement each time Elsa destroyed it in a panicked attempt to break out. No wonder it always looked so plain. The bottom-most drawer contained personnel records of staff involved on the project and security clearances. Doctors and analysts and academics. Her own records were mysteriously absent.
"Where's my file?" Anna turned to Hans.
"I sent it off upstairs to process your upgraded payroll," he answered, looking down beneath his legs. No further explanations. No eye contact. Silence.
"Bullshit," Anna spat.
"Don't you want more money?" Hans shot back.
"I'm not the type motivated by money," Anna crept closer, taser in hand, "your words, not mine."
He eyed the crackling implement. Flashed a look of utter terror before flicking his head slightly. Pursed lips. Anna turned and felt around the rear of the cabinet. Heart lurching into her throat when she touched a keyhole. A hidden compartment within a double-padlocked cabinet in the most secure facility in America.
"Anna," Hans whispered, "y-you might want to reconsider this."
"Why?"
"Because-" Hans slumped deeper.
She'd seen this face a hundred times over. From women who've endured unspeakable atrocities. From men who've perpetuated the same on them, following orders from higher ups intending to terrorise a population into submission. Hans's silence unnerved her beyond all the violence and invasive surveillance. It gave her the push to fumble with his ring of keys for the only one shaped differently. A custom key that fitted the most secretive of NSA locks.
Hans muttered a series of curses beneath his breath. Her hands closed around the only file hidden within. The one with her name on it.