.
.
Chapter 29 – Festering Wounds
A scared pair of walking soldiers
We’re all wounded anyway
In our respective ways
Bayside – The Walking Wounded
2020, Hanau, Germany
Colonel Donald Michael Lydecker suspected he was being pigeonholed. The simple fact that he had been assigned to a special black-ops unit along with a consignment of Transgenics to assist in infiltrating and monitoring German military movements was the first clue. That the request came from the Committee and was non-negotiable was the second. And finally, the projected tour of duty was meant to last anywhere from three to five months. Lydecker wasn’t pleased at being kept in the cold and could only wonder what Renfro might get up to in his absence.
His unit was a good one; Lydecker had been able to hand-pick a partner and eight soldiers of his choice and he’d made damn sure he had yanked the best and brightest from under Renfro’s nose. She hadn’t been pleased when he had pulled Ryback’s elite into the field, along with two of Slavitz’s most accomplished boys. At least he was assured of a seamless, successful operation along with a partner he could trust.
Colonel John Ryback was one of the few in Manticore who had served with him from in the past and could be trusted to have his back. Ryback knew the risks involved in being part of Manticore yet he remained in their service. Lydecker would bet his left nut that Ryback stuck around to keep an eye on the kids and not for any personal agenda. He had been placed in charge of the twins and clones of the escapees back in ’09 and had done his best to minimize the damages inflicted upon the tortured soldiers as they were punished for sins they did not commit and reprogrammed to the Committee’s new standards.
He would have left Ryback back on base where the other man could keep an eye on Max and her position within 494’s unit, but Lydecker had heard that Max was going to be sent for specialist training in their Indiana facility. He could only hope that she would stick to the plan and not let her temper get the better of her. The skills she could pick up in Fort Wayne were some that could come in quite handy when the plans to rescue Tinga were set in motion.
If the plans were ever set in motion, he sighed wearily to himself.
Lydecker had to admit to being apprehensive regarding Tinga and her capture. Renfro had managed to keep everything under wraps and he had only been lucky to hear of Tinga’s return to Manticore by accident. If Elizabeth could keep that quiet, there was no telling what else she could do or which of the other escapees might have fallen into her net.
His sudden deployment and isolation from happenings back home didn’t help, either. Lydecker knew he would be unable to communicate with Max before his tour was finished and she would likely still be in training; the program was due to last six months, more if the soldiers exceeded expectations and were forwarded on to advanced infiltration groups and solo ops.
He cracked a wry smile at the thought of Max in solo ops. He couldn’t imagine the idea of being an assassin would go over well with her.
The door to his right slid open and Ryback entered the command center, frowning severely.
“I’m beginning to think this was more than a covert op, Deck.”
Lyecker’s gaze swung sharply to Ryback’s. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been trying to get more information on our targets to help identify our marks, but Slavitz said he can’t help, that we don’t have the necessary clearance.” Ryback’s mouth set in a hard line, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Care to explain to me why the hell we don’t have clearance for our own operation?”
Lydecker sighed. “Shoulda trusted my gut,” he muttered, shaking his head and collapsing into an office chair beside the computer console.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I wasn’t asked to head this team, John. I was ordered. There’s something going on back home and they want me out of the way.”
Ryback studied his friend for a moment before giving a brief nod. “And why am I here, Deck?”
“Because I don’t trust anyone else to have my back.”
*note for future chapter/s possibly: renfro may try to have lydecker killed and ryback, as a friend and ally, will be there to help. Ryback’s soldiers and slavitz’s men will also be loyal.
2020, Elsewhere USA
“So what did the fruit vendor have to say?” Syl asked, opening and closing cupboard after cupboard in search of food. “God, isn’t there anything to eat in this place?” she grumbled, shutting the last door and slumping into a chair.
“Jondy never kept much at home. She ate at the bar or grabbed something at my place. She only stayed here when I was out of town.” Zane rummaged in his rucksack for a moment before extracting a package of crackers and an apple and sliding them across the table.
Syl inhaled the sweet scent of fresh, red apple, then exhaled blissfully and tore into the fruit with abandon.
“The vendors all said the same thing; a girl matching Jondy’s description left the market just before noon and she was heading south.”
“South as in the harbor?” Syl asked through a mouthful of apple, chewing steadily and swallowing before taking another bite.
“Yeah, it fits. I asked her to pick up some ammo from my supplier,” Zane frowned and studied the map laid out before him.
“Spinelli, right? Still haven’t found him?” Syl stated more than asked, polishing off the last of her fruit and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“No, but I will. He’s a rat but he’s not invisible. It’s only a matter of time before he resurfaces and when he does, I’ll be all over his ass like shit on a baby.”
“Lovely image, thanks,” Syl grimaced and shook her head.
The jangling of his cell phone halted their discussion and Syl waited expectantly as Zane took the call.
“What do you got?” Zane’s eyes darkened and hardened and his face grew grim. “Thanks, man, I owe you.”
“What is it?”
Zane took a moment before answering and she could almost see the thoughts racing through her brother’s head.
“An old contact – a sometimes supplier of mine – owed me a favor. His sources say someone’s been trying to off-load the very same shipment Jondy was supposed to collect.”
“Your contact give you a name?”
“He did me one better. He also gave me an address.”
Syl’s eyes danced with hopeful anticipation. “Spinelli?”
“Bingo.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – –
“Spinelli.”
The balding, little man whirled in surprise.
“Nichols? What are you doing here?”
Zane laughed hollowly. “What indeed.”
He advanced on the shorter man whose fear had begun to waft through his pores in a sickening, swelling stench. Small beads of perspiration dotted his smooth head and shone on his cheeks and neck. He took a step back from the angry Transgenic.
“What do you want from me?”
“Thought you could screw me out of my weapons, nab my messenger and make a small killing on the side off goods that weren’t yours to sell?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spinelli protested feebly.
“Sure you don’t.”
Spinelli’s eyes widened in fright upon hearing the second voice cooing in his ear. He couldn’t move, however, as the voice was attached to a body and said body had crept up on him from behind, twisting his arm behind his back and bending his body into a position that was both painful and had rendered him immobile.
“I keep informed and when a special order of guns and ammo shows up on the black market, I hear about it. Not only that but, the agent I sent to meet you and collect my shipment, has gone missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I don’t know anything about that! I didn’t have anything to do with the girl!” Spinelli exclaimed.
“He never said anything about a girl,” Syl purred into his ear. “Looks like your guilt is talking for you.”
Spinelli shook his head. “No one came for the shipment so I sold it. You cannot expect that I would sit on it when I could make profit? I am a businessman!”
“And now your business has extended to kidnapping? Why the girl?”
“No, there was no girl,” the little man continued to deny, retracting his earlier comment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Neither Transgenic was buying it. It was too little too late for Spinelli to play the innocent and Syl knew Zane wasn’t going to sit idly by while the man tried to weasel his way out of the situation. No, Spinelli was going to ‘fess up to his role in Jondy’s disappearance and then she and Zane were going to feed his carcass to the dogs.
Zane lurched forward and grabbed Spinelli by the throat, raising him off the ground a good few inches. His face was menacing and he glared at the worm of a man who was responsible for his mate’s kidnapping and shook him.
“Where is she?”
“I know nothing.”
“I didn’t ask you if you were an idiot, I asked you where the girl is.”
“I don’t know.”
Zane smiled grimly, drew his knee up and into the smaller man’s stomach with inhuman strength. Spinelli caved into himself, trying to catch his breath and Zane released his throat, watching in pleasure as his quarry heaved and wheezed on the ground.
“Syl, toss me those chains and help me string this piece of shit,” he demanded, looking pointedly at the lengths of rusted, metal chains hanging from a series of hooks extending down from the high ceiling.
Syl stood back a bit and watched as her brother wrapped the corroding chains around the fallen man’s thumbs, watched in horrified fascination as the two digits stretched and pulled from their normal positions, but her eyes widened in understanding – and a bit of horror – when Zane tugged at the chains and hoisted the shuddering man up by this thumbs to hang from the ceiling, cries of agony tearing from his lips with each heave and shift of the metal twisted about his fingers.
But she didn’t say a thing, allowing her brother to exact some revenge and extract whatever information he could from the pathetic human who had stolen her sister.
And so it went for the better part of three hours. Zane interrogated while the Italian screamed, begged, pleaded for mercy and deliverance. Within the first few minutes he had caved, admitting that it had been Zane they were after, but that they had hoped to use the girl as bait.
Thirty minutes in he had told them that some suit from a government agency had paid him to be his eyes and ears and to report back if ‘Nichols’ ever showed his face again.
But it had taken a white-hot knife pressed to the bottom of their captive’s feet, laid into the soft skin of the arches, for him to finally give them a name.
“Otto! He said his name was Agent Otto Gottlieb!”
Beyond fury, Zane moved to slice into the bound man’s Achilles tendons, to ruin the man who had caused him such grief, to rip the flesh of the man who had peddled flesh, but Syl stopped him.
“Listen, you shit,” she addressed the broken man, “you tell us everything you know about this Gottlieb character and you might just be able to walk out of here when we’re done. Dick us around any more and I’ll let my friend here slice up those ugly feet of yours and cripple you for life. It’s up to you.”
Spinelli knew a good thing when he saw it and immediately spilled the beans, rasping detail after detail through a throat raw from screaming.
And in the end, Syl couldn’t deny her brother’s pleading eyes and with a none-too-sympathetic smile at their prisoner, turned her back and walked away, nodding as the man’s screams ripped through the warehouse in staccato bursts.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – –
Syl snapped her cell shut and pocketed it. Reentering the warehouse, she approached Zane who had just wiped the bloody blade on his pants leg before folding and sheathing it.
“It’s getting late; we’ve gotta go,”
Upon hearing her voice, he looked up in surprise.
“What about him?” Zane nodded at the captive.
“What about him?” Syl returned with a raised brow. “Leave him. Someone will find him in the morning.”
“He knows what we look like,” Zane countered. The man he had been interrogating knew altogether too much about their superhuman strength.
“You’re right,” Syl agreed. “But somehow I don’t think he’ll be coming after us any time soon. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”
Zane shook his head. “No. We should kill him. Safer that way.” He extracted a handgun from the small of his back, cocked and aimed it at the hanging captive and smiled mirthlessly at his sister. “Head or heart? I’m thinking heart.” He lowered the gun a few inches until it was level with the man’s chest.
“No, please! I won’t say anything!” the plea tumbled from the lips of the shattered mess of man dangling from torn thumbs.
“Like you didn’t tell us anything?” Zane sneered.
Syl stepped forward slowly. “Come on, Zane,” she urged gently. “Put the gun down.”
“Syl, he knows what we look like and he knows our names. What if he decides to send someone after us?”
“Well, there’s always his family. Didn’t you mention a couple of elderly parents and a pregnant sister with a coupla kids? Quid pro quo, isn’t that right?” Syl raised steely eyes to the whimpering, suspended form. He nodded vigorously.
“I swear it on my family’s honor, let me live and I say nothing, ever!”
Zane laughed derisively, sending a searing glare at his captive. “What do you know about honor?” he spat, advancing on the gently swaying body, snarling with each tear that fell from the man’s eyes. “Since when is kidnapping and extortion honorable?”
Zane wrapped his arms around the snivelling man’s legs, applying firm pressure and pulling. The man cried out from the added pain in his mangled thumbs.
Syl flinched, not having seen her brother torture with such gusto and enjoyment since training days back in Manticore many years before. She understood Zane’s pain, the need to lash out and punish those responsible for Jondy’s kidnapping, but she also knew there were limits and she wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t cross the line in his current state. She stood ready to intervene.
A violent tug gave way to an audible rip and the dealer’s eyes rolled back in his head as he shrieked to unforgiving ears.
Zane’s lip curled into a nasty smile. “The girl they took is my wife,” he hissed venomously, “Future mother of my children … and you wanna talk about family honor?”
Rage screamed from every pore of his body and it took Syl’s physical restraint and gentle murmurs to steer him from the wounded man.
“Zane, he’s telling the truth. To a man like that, family honor is above everything. He will keep his word.” She steered him towards the exit. “Now, why don’t we act on that info and go do something about getting our girl back, okay?”
Before stepping out into the crispt evening air, Syl flipped the switch near the door that released the mangled prisoner, dropping him to the ground with a sickening crunch.
The two ducked behind shipping crates and netting stacked just outside the warehouse and crouched in wait.
“Do you think he bought it?” Zane asked, keeping his eyes on the door.
Syl nodded. “Mmhmm,” she cocked her head and listened intently. “The guy must be scared shitless of his boss. He was on the verge of blacking out but that didn’t stop him from calling in. Listen,” she nudged Zane with her shoulder, “hear that?”
Frantic Italian chatter erupted from within the canning warehouse. Zane’s lips formed a tight smile. “Son of a bitch.”
“I knew playing good cop, bad cop was a good idea. He’ll lead us to his boss and then we’ll find out who took Jondy.” Glancing at her brother, Syl noted the despairing look in his eyes. “We will find her, Zane. And then we’ll kill the sons of bitches that did this.”
2020, Converted Silo Near The Municipal Border – Offsite Manticore Testing Facility
Lydecker and Ryback in Germany. Zane and Syl chasing leads on Jondy. And a little scene which connects Deck’s thoughts on Max in specialist training to her current state, in Alec’s POV… See below.
(Note: Everything that follows here is unedited and unbetaed.)
494 wasn’t sure what to make of her.
Max hadn’t made eye contact with anyone since reveille, neither had she appeared to notice any of her unit mates. In fact, the only people she seemed to acknowledge were the instructors and med techs, and then only when interaction was unavoidable. There was no glaring, no dirty looks, no one-fingered salutes behind turned backs.
From all accounts, Max had been sullen and withdrawn since her return from Indiana two days prior. She’d always been mouthy; speaking her mind, voicing her opinions and fighting back. Max being so closed off was a bit disconcerting. Until he’d seen it for himself this morning, he wouldn’t have believed it.
He supposed he should be happier with her shuttered demeanor, but with this particular soldier, such displays of reserved comportment meant that something was very wrong.
“Welcome back, 452,” 494 said with a grin, falling in step beside the quiet female.
He frowned after a while, not having received any sort of reply.
“452?”
494 had to wonder if she’d been through live ordinance drills and perhaps suffering from residual hearing impairment. Clearing his thoat, he tried again.
“Everything alright, 452?”
That damnable silence again! He waved a hand in front of her face.
“Don’t make me pull rank, Soldier!”
Max swivelled her head towards him and blinked. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t hear you.”
494 quirked his lips. His title? Okay, that was new. “Must have been some daydream you were having. Was it good? Tell me it was good.”
Max furrowed her brow. “No, Sir. Just doing some mental prep for the upcoming eval. We covered a lot of new material.”
“Hmm, okay then.”
494 studied the girl beside him. There was something very off about her responses. Her tone was subdued, her answers respectful and informative if a bit distant. If 494 hadn’t already known where she’d been, he would have guessed the time was actually spent in psy-ops.
They had just exited onto the quad when Max veered left towards the firing range instead of following the more direct path to their unit for morning sparring.
“Uh, 452, we’re on the other side of the yard today, remember?”
She shook her head. “No, Sir. I’m to report to the RSO at oh eight hundred for more personalised training.”
“I thought you don’t do guns,” 494 said pointedly. Max stiffened.
“I didn’t.”
“So what changed?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“Come on, 452, you gotta give me more than that!”
Max straightened her back. mouth set in a thin line, eyes facing forward. 494 was going to push the issue; after all, this was the girl who swore off guns and broke into a cold sweat when presented with a firearm. He couldn’t imagine how, but it appeared as though they’d finally gotten 452 to comply like a good little soldier should. He’d like to congratulate whoever it was, shake their hand…
“452, you’re right on time.” Lance Davenport, the Range Safety Officer, a (in 494’s opinion) real meanspirited asshole, stepped out from behind a large tree, a rifle resting against his shoulder. His smile sent shivers down 494’s back.
“And you brought a friend? Do I need to remind you what happened last time you did that?”
Max shot a worried look at Alec.
“He’s my CO, Sir. He thought he was escorting me to sparring practice. It won’t happen again, Sir.”
494 didn’t like the way Max nearly tripped over her words in her haste to appease the older man. He didn’t want to leave her like this, with him, but had no real reason to stay. 494 turned to the RSO and apologized for intruding.
“I’m sorry, Sir. If I’d known this was a private session, I wouldn’t have come.” Turning to Max, he nodded. “I’ll see you later, 452. We’ll catch you up on everything some other time.” And with that, he left. But he hadn’t gone too far that he couldn’t hear the RSO dressing down Max.
“Thank God that little shit’s gone. I wouldn’t have wanted to explain to Renfro why you put a bullet through one of her prized pigs.”
“Get started, 452. I want that rifle assembled and ready when this timer goes off.”
“Oh, and it’s your lucky day, today, sweetheart! We’re practicing on human targets… and this time, they won’t be shooting at you to get you motivated.”
Alec stilled, having finally realized just what happened to the normally outspoken female. Shit, he thought, letting out a shuddering breath.
He heard Davenport laugh, the sound deep and chilling, his words fading on the breeze as he and Max move deeper into the field. “And once you’ve mastered the rifle, we’ll move on to the garote. I can’t wait for that one.”
Other Chapter Notes:
THIS IS A CUT SCENE – but saving for potential reworking should the need arise.
————————————————————
2020, 30 miles north of Seattle, Washington, Manticore Facility
“Stop struggling, 602,” purred the much larger male as he pressed the girl into the concrete wall and ground his pelvis against hers.
“Get off of me!” she growled, pushing flat palms against his hard chest and shoving with considerable strength.
The male, however, wasn’t having any of that.
“You know you want it, 602. I can smell it rolling off of you. It’s delicious.”
602 was not amused. “I said,” she snarled, bringing her hand and slapping the other Transgenic forcefully across the face, “get the fuck off me!”
The Transgenic male spat blood and whipped back around with narrowed eyes. For a moment, it seemed as though he would spring and attack, or perhaps even walk away, but instead, the male advanced on her with a predatory look, his eyes gleaming wildly.
“I never expected you to go all primal on me, but you won’t hear me complaining.”
“I wasn’t playing,” 602 endeavored to clarify.
“Coulda fooled me,” he grunted, lunging for the female, intent on successfully breeding as his instincts dictated.
602 tried to slip away, but the male X5’s body impacted hers with such force that she toppled to the ground flat on her back and slightly winded.
He grabbed her wrists and held them securely above her head.
“That’s more like it,” he cooed, running his free hand up and down her side.
Dark eyes fell upon the reluctant female and her aggressive, forceful companion. Upon noting the fear and disgust in 602’s eyes and the lascivious, lecherous gaze and roaming hands of the male, understanding dawned. Glancing around at the few Transgenics scattered around and realizing that none of them planned to intervene, Max shook her head in disgust.
Were they all about to allow their 2IC to be raped by a horny gorilla all because the female was secreting an abundance of pheromones and was vulnerable? Females in heat might be gagging for it, but that didn’t give the males a right to just take what they wanted when said females were mostly unable to deny them. Max decided that she couldn’t live with that on her conscience, even if 602 wasn’t her favorite person.
She took a determined and bold step towards the couple.
“I believe the lady told you to leave her alone,” was the quiet comment that preceded a crippling blow to the male’s head, courtesy of one, very pissed off Max.
The X5 crashed to the floor, head lolling dangerously. Max was without remorse as she kicked the fallen male for good measure. She then stretched a hand out to her unit’s 2IC and pulled the other girl to her feet.
“You might want to think about solitary before someone else tries to make a move on you,” she suggested, stepping back from 602 with a shrug of nonchalance.
“Yeah, thanks,” 602 muttered.
Other females, no longer afraid of getting between an aroused male and his perceived mate, surrounded their 2IC and escorted her out of the room and to solitary.
Max felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder and fingers dig into her skin. Whirling to face the source, she was surprised to find herself face to face with Alec.
“What the hell were you thinking, 452?!” he all but barked at her.
Excuse me, is this guy for real?
Refusing to respond to his manhandling, Max flashed her C.O. a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Remove your hand or I’ll do it for you, *sir*.”
He ignored the mocking tone of voice. Digging his fingers further into the fleshy part of her upper arm, Alec shook her lightly. “You must be suicidal. Are you crazy?!”
Max’s eyes narrowed and she made sure her irritation was apparent as she pried Alec’s fingers from her shoulder one at a time before crunching them together in her fist.
“I might get crazy if you ever pull something like that again,” she stated icily. “Now, is there a reason you’re biting my head off or did you just miss your meds this morning?”
“Are you for real, 452?” 494’s face was awash with incredulity. Could it be possible that the girl really didn’t know?
“I don’t get you people. Hell, I don’t get you,” she huffed indignantly, jabbing a finger into his chest to emphasize her disgust. “602 is your Second and you just left her to the mercies of the first guy who wanted to dip into the honey pot? What’s wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!? You could have gotten hurt, or worse, killed, if he hadn’t been so distracted. Don’t you know better than to get between an X5 and his mate?”
“His mate? She was fighting him off and none of you had any intention of helping!”
“If she’d really wanted to fight him, she would have,” Alec insisted. “And that’s not the point! You put yourself in danger just by approaching while he engaged her.”
“Wow, at least now I know what acceptable behavior on Planet Jackass is, but sorry to break it to ya, we live on Earth and they have rules against that kind of thing here.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you were going to let 602 he violated and not lift a finger to help!”
“I already fought one guy for a female in heat. I have no intention of ever doing it again,” Alec dismissed, a faraway look in his eye as he remembered his encounter with X5-714. He hadn’t heard a thing about her since their return from that mission and he didn’t know if he would ever see her again.
“I’m not going to argue with you, 452. But you’d best take my advice; don’t ever get between an X5 and his or her mate – regardless of whether you believe they’re a couple or not. Next time you might not be so lucky.”
Max watched Alec walk away, still irritated with him but oddly flattered. He had, after all, seemed genuinely worried.
That counted for something, right?