Chaos Theory – Chapter 26

One Wrong Move…

2020, Post-Pulse, Elsewhere, USA – Present Day

Jondy woke to sharp pain, blinking rapidly in the brightly lit room. Attempting to move her stiff limbs proved futile; the metal bands and leather straps that had her pinned down didn’t give an inch. Her vision swam and she was parched; her tongue was fuzzy and sticking to the roof of her mouth. She loosened her jaw with a sharp crack and moved her head from side to side, trying to ease the kinks.

She looked around, trying to discern her location, or at least get a better idea of the layout of the windowless room. The wall directly ahead housed shelves laden with what appeared to be medical supplies. The lower half of the wall was lined with cabinets, topped by metal counters. Sterile. A hospital? Shaking her head slightly, the pain behind her eyes now dulled to a slight throbbing, she tried to remember how she wound up in her current position.

She was walking down a noisy side street near the local market, intent on finding her supplier. It was her turn to buy Tryptophan and she knew Zack was counting on her to score big. After securing the order, she paid the shifty looking man and quickly made her way down to the docklands.

It was the last detour of the morning, her errands having been finished save for one: Zane’s request for more ammo. He’d given her his contact’s name and location, and despite her initial displeasure, she knew she would never turn down a request from her lover, much like he couldn’t say no to her.

She found the address quite easily. A decrepit old building not far from the Market, just as seedy, creepy and stale as the other buildings in that district. Ooh, how I hate these clandestine meetings, she thought in irritation. But Zane got his orders from Zack, and being the obsessively paranoid older brother/C.O. – and he really did have their best interests at heart – she went along with the orders, keeping her thoughts to herself. Far be it from her to tell him how to run his business. His over-protectiveness had saved their hides enough times to make what she deemed an annoyance, tolerable.

Finding the entrance in the alley, she stepped into the darkened stockroom at the back of the shipping repository just a few minutes shy of the prearranged meeting time. Applying the training that came as second nature, she made sure the area was secure. She was prepared for anything.

Settling down on an overturned crate, she waited. A few minutes later, a lone figure entered the room, eyes sweeping the area cautiously but finding nothing amiss. She watched silently as the man lugged a large box into the center of the room before lowering it to the ground. He glanced at his watch, seemingly distressed.

“Where the hell is he?” he muttered anxiously.

She sauntered out of the shadows, keeping her gun trained on the stranger. “Lookin’ for me?”

“You’re not Nichols,” he gasped in surprise, glancing surreptitiously at the door from which he’d entered moments before.

Jondy saw this but pretended not to notice. “No, but I’ll do. Is that my order?” she nodded towards the box.

The frightened man bobbed his head. “Th-that’ll be two-sixty,” he squeaked.

“My partner said he paid half up front. Don’t dick me over and you’ll give me no reason to hurt you.” She tossed a wad of cash at the man. “You gonna count that?”

“N-no. We’re good,” he replied, fidgeting uncomfortably.  

She studied his discomfiture and quickly became suspicious when he sent another furtive glance towards the door.

Without warning, she blurred and came up behind the dealer, twisting his arm tightly behind his back, her gun at his throat. She released the safety and grinned when he flinched. “Who else are you waiting for and don’t fuck around. I will not hesitate to end your miserable life.”

“I’m not-” the words died in his throat when she dug the barrel deep into his neck.

“I said, don’t fuck with me,” she hissed threateningly. “Who are you waiting for?”

The stupid, little man was tongue-tied in fear. Jondy smelled fresh urine, the scent almost overpowering her delicate senses, and grunted her displeasure. Why do they always piss themselves? she thought in disgust.

Steering her captive towards the exit, she released his arm, keeping her firearm pointed at the back of his neck. “One wrong move and I blow your head off. Now, open the door. Slowly,” she whispered. The ice in her tone left no room for argument and the dealer turned the handle slowly, pushing the door outwards. Seconds later, a muted shot was heard, and Jondy felt a twinge of pain in her side. The man fell back against her, causing her to stumble. She darted behind the door, making for the cover of crates. But before she could find adequate shelter, a soft, whizzing sound filled her ears and a moment later she saw stars.

From somewhere behind her, she could hear the creak of rusty hinges signaling that she was no longer alone. She felt goose bumps rising on the surface of her sweaty skin when a blast of cold air hit her as the door closed quickly behind the newcomer. Soft breathing reached her ears, soon followed by quiet, measured footfalls tapping on the floor. 

“So you’ve finally decided to rejoin the living, 210,” a cold, male voice drawled from over her shoulder. Straining her eyes, she shivered as a severely suited man, looking to be in his early to mid-thirties, came into her peripheral vision. He made his way slowly around to the foot of the bed.

Her skin crawled under his intense scrutiny, his icy smile sending ripples of fear down her spine. “You the bastard that clubbed me? Who the fuck are you and what the hell do you want?” she croaked weakly, her voice cracking from disuse. Not quite the tone I was going for. Aw, hell. How long have I been here? she wondered diffidently.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Special Agent Ames White. And you, freak, are mine.”

Zack sat across from Logan, still somewhat uncomfortable in the older man’s presence. Zane had no such qualms, happily stuffing his stomach with leftovers from the fridge. They’d spent the past couple weeks pumping Logan for information, anything he could tell them about Max and her dealings, anything that could bring them closer to finding her.

The one detail that specifically worried Zack, was the microphone Max had been wearing the day of her capture. It was a direct link to Logan; a dangerous link, as Logan insisted on keeping the lines of communication open. Zack had argued tactical exposure but both Zane and Logan opposed his stand. He only gave up when they pointed out that had the link been discovered, their own security checks would have picked up on it. It was still a risk, but just being in the same vicinity as the hacker, and Max’s last known location, was a risk. So he let it go.

Zane entered from the kitchen access and flopped down next to Zack.

“Just got off the phone with Krit. He and Syl got Charlie and Case up to Canada. They’re settling in with new identities.” Shifting slightly on the couch he gave Zack an icy look. “They’re gonna check some leads and see if they can find out anything about,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “…Jondy.”

Zack didn’t miss the clipped edge to his tone at the mention of his brother’s mate. “Look, Zane, I know you wish you were out there looking-”

Zane cut him off with a searing glare. “I know you love her, you bastard, but you don’t have any idea what it’s like for me. You’ve never been in love, never lost the woman who means everything to you. You think you’re worried? Wondering where she is, if she’s okay? It’s a helluva lot worse for me, because she’s mine!”

He took looked sharply at his brother, noting the hostility in his eyes, and the anger he felt inside intensified. Shaking his head, he exhaled a short puff of breath combined with an incredulous snort and spat at Zack, “And you’ve never been ordered, by your so-called brother, not to go looking for her, either!”

The fight left him as guilt and worry took over. Zane leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. Speaking into his lap, sounding so lost, his voice close to a whisper and bordering on a plea, he said, “So tell me you’ve got a plan, or for fuck’s sake, Zack, let me go.“

Dr. Hannah Sukova couldn’t take her eyes off the results in front of her. Unbelievable. Extraordinary. I’ve got to tell-

The door swung open and Renfro stalked into the room, not sparing a glance at the lab technicians who quickly scrambled out of her path. She stepped in front of Hannah and looked down her nose at the white-coated woman.

“I thought I told you I needed those results,” she said coldly, glaring at the doctor, “yesterday.”.

“We only finished running the final set of tests this morning, Madame Director. My apologies for the delay, but I wanted to be thorough,” Hannah replied in a calm voice that belied her inner anxiety. “We’re printing the data now and should have everything compiled to your satisfaction within the hour.”

“Very well. Since you don’t have hard copy, what can you tell me from your findings so far?” Renfro asked as she pulled up a chair and took a seat, uninvited and unwelcome, opposite Hannah’s worktable.

Hannah slipped the report between a pile of documents, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed the trembling of her hands as she did so. Sitting down, she crossed her leg over one knee and leaned back, hands clasped in her lap.

“It would seem, and I’m certain the final results will confirm this, that test subject 452 has normal X5 genetic makeup and no abnormalities that set her apart from others of her series. In fact, her blood work is almost identical to that of X5-453.”

Hannah kept her gaze level and continued, “As for the physical tests we ran, the only noted difference is her ability to withstand greater levels of physical pain. After consulting with Psy-Ops it was confirmed that her tolerance is higher and that it’s all a matter of mentally commandeering the senses, something she may have taught herself with experience.”

Renfro raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Are you telling me she can’t feel pain? I find that hard to believe.”

Hannah shook her head. “Not at all. She feels it, but she is able to push the pain aside more efficiently than others to get the job done. We should be pleased, knowing that they are capable of such a thing. If further research and testing of other subjects shows positive results, this could mean stronger soldiers in the field.”

Renfro’s lips curved into a wide, satisfied smile. “An astute observation. Very well. You’ll be hearing from the Board about this. I’d like to get started right away.” Her smile fell away and Hannah noted a flash of irritation and frustration in the older woman’s eyes. Then the look hardened as she glared, as if trying to penetrate the doctor’s mind with her stare. “You’re certain that 452 has no anomalies in her genetic makeup?”

“As I said, Director. The results will be on your desk shortly and you can see for yourself.” Hannah was beginning to sweat. If her superior had any idea that she was lying, that the assay on its way to her office was a fabrication, she would be killed and disposed of and no one would be any the wiser.

Elizabeth Renfro stood and nodded curtly to the doctor. Eyes gleaming, she strode out of the room.

Hannah released a relieved gasp and wiped at her sweaty brow. Taking deep, even breaths, she slowly calmed her nerves and reached for the file she’d hidden. Quickly, she placed it into her briefcase, along with her personal notes on the subject, and snapped the case shut.

“Enter,” came the rough reply.

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside and quietly shut it behind her.

She didn’t mince words.

“I’ll do it.”

 

Max stopped when she reached the anterior of his office and composed herself. Swiftly bringing her fist up, she rapped on the door.2020, 30 miles north of Seattle , Washington – Manticore Facility2020, Post-Pulse, Seattle, Washington – Present Day