Bounty

by J. D. Cunegan

  Dr. Roberts nearly tripped over an overturned table when he crossed into the examination room -- which was when he noticed needles and all manner of surgical equipment strewn about the floor. His eyes scanned the room, but there was no sign of Andersen. He carefully stepped over the table, making sure his feet avoided the sharp instruments. He wasn’t barefoot, but the soles of his shoes were thin, and some of the instruments would surely puncture his skin. Once he cleared the table, Dr. Roberts heard ragged breathing to his left. He stopped in his tracks, swallowing hard to fight off the impending dread.

  He turned to his left to find the patient on the floor, huddled up against the wall. Her hair hung over her face, hiding the metal plate over her left eye. Her fingers trembled as she stared at them, a long scar decorating her left arm. The off-white medical gown hung loosely off her shoulders, contrasting with her dark locks. Dr. Roberts wondered if Jill even knew he was in the room, but once she lifted her gaze, her eyes bore right into him. A chill ran down Dr. Roberts' spine. His brain told his legs to move, but they refused to cooperate.

  "Andersen."

  She remained still, her eyes still glued to Dr. Roberts.

  "Jill?"

  The brunette slowly climbed to her feet, her palm pressed flat against the wall to keep herself steady. Her knees nearly gave out at one point, but Jill caught herself and regained her composure. Once she was fully upright, Jill regarded Dr. Roberts once more.

  "Who are you?"

  This was not the voice of someone who had just regained consciousness after a massively invasive procedure. It was steady, confident. Yet her question betrayed that sense of confidence. Then again, Dr. Roberts had warned Jill temporary memory loss was a possibility. He made sure to keep his distance, because if this procedure had been a success, he realized just how much danger he'd be in if she turned violent.

  "I’m Dr. Trent Roberts." He tried to keep his voice even, faltering on the last syllable.

  Jill's right eye -- which was still her natural green -- twitched, darting from one side of the room to the other. She pressed her left hand against the wall, cringing when the movement of her left arm tugged on the healing scar. She shot Dr. Roberts a menacing glare, one that immediately melted into a neutral expression. Jill took a tentative step forward, then another, then yet another, and with each of her steps, Dr. Roberts took one to distance himself further.

  "You're afraid of me."

  Dr. Roberts winced as the truth smacked him in the face. He didn't like to admit that a product of his experiment, something he'd worked over half his life for, scared him -- especially knowing Jill had volunteered for this procedure. But considering this was the first time a test subject for Project Fusion had survived the experience, it was safe to say that Trent was in uncharted waters.

  "No." Trent hoped his fake smile was convincing. "We just didn't expect you to be awake so soon."

  "I was asleep." Her eye darted back and forth again. "Did you put me to sleep?"

  Dr. Roberts forced himself to stay still as Jill approached again. She got to within a few feet of him before he flinched and immediately relaxed his shoulders. She was uncertain, taking in her spartan surroundings. The medical gown threatened to slip off her right shoulder. With her left arm, she brushed strands of unkempt hair out of her face, and Dr. Roberts briefly caught his own reflection in her eyeplate. The skin surrounding the plate was scarred, jagged and red.

  "You..." He swallowed. Words were suddenly hard to come by. "You volunteered for a procedure. We finished it a couple hours ago."

  Jill flinched. Her eyes darted to her left arm, taking in the long scar. The red patches of healing skin were turning pink almost before her eyes. She then looked down, seeing the top of another scar that started at her collarbone, her finger trailing over her gown until the raised skin stopped just shy of her navel. Her eyes widened, the realization of what occurred finally dawning on her. The brunette brought a shaky hand to the side of her face, gasping when her fingers touched cold metal. She opened her mouth to speak, but all she managed at first was a tiny gasp of air.

  "What," she finally whispered, "what did I agree to?"

  "Project Fusion." Dr. Roberts took a step forward, excitement beginning to override any concerns over personal safety at this point. "We... you..." He sighed in frustration. This was so much easier to explain when the person he was talking to wasn't suffering from memory loss. He took a deep breath, gathering his bearings before pressing. "Cybernetics, is I guess the best way to put it."

  Jill scrunched her brow. "I'm a cyborg?"

  "That's..." Dr. Roberts took a step back, almost tripping over his own feet. "... an oversimplification, I'd say."

  She closed the distance between them quicker than he expected, and he could barely react before her hand wrapped around his neck. Dr. Roberts yelped in fear, trying to keep as still as possible, lest she decided to squeeze.

  "Then explain it."

  "Your skeleton," Dr. Roberts pointed at the scar on her left arm, "we grafted it in titanium. Practically indestructible." He pointed at her eyeplate. "Infrared vision. Great once you have your badge and you can examine crime scenes unlike anyone else." He felt her fingers flex against his neck, eyes widening in momentary panic before they relaxed again. Offering a silent prayer to a deity he didn't believe in, Dr. Roberts tried his damnedest to meet her gaze, no matter how terrifying it was. "You're stronger, faster, more durable. We cut you open several hours ago, and already I can see the scars healing."

  Reluctantly, Jill released her grip on the doctor's neck. She glanced down at the scars littering different parts of her body, squinting. "I asked for this?"

  "We have your signed waiver on file, if you'd like proof."

  Dr. Roberts watched as Jill roamed around the room. Her human eye was distant, fluttering about her surroundings. He could see the wheels spinning inside her head. Trent remembered her saying she wanted to be a cop after she got out of the Army. Homicide, like her father. He could already see the cop in her, the person who had to have all the answers, trying to piece everything together.

  "The memory loss is temporary." Dr. Roberts was secretly relieved when she didn't turn her attention to him. "I'd say another twenty-four hours, and you'll likely remember everything again."

  "And if I don't?"

  Dr. Roberts blinked, taken aback. He hadn't actually considered that possibility. He silently chastised himself for that, because any scientist worth a damn would have. Jill turned to face him and he flinched. Unable to think of a suitable answer, Dr. Roberts opted for changing the subject.

  "Are you in any pain?"

  Jill's eyes flickered again and she glanced at the scar on her arm. To be entirely truthful, she didn't feel much of anything at the moment. Her legs were a little weak, if anything, and she could feel her knees threatening to give out. Whether that was a matter of being physically weak after the procedure or the overwhelming reality of what just happened, she couldn't say. She tore her eyes from the scar and regarded the doctor once more, a flash entering her mind and leaving in almost the same instant.

  She stumbled a bit, taken aback by the flash. It hit her again, knocking her back against the wall. Her mind was a blur, but the fog eventually lifted, and she could see a searing hot blade slicing into her arm. She recoiled at the image with a gasp, dropping to her knees and curling up against herself next to the wall. She could feel the blade cutting through her skin all over again, screaming as she scratched at the scar.

  A faceless figure clasped something over her nose and mouth. Everything went foggy again, then drifted into black. Her shoulders hunched, a shiver tore through her body. A dull ache grew in Jill's chest, slowly morphing into an unbearable burning sensation. Her teeth gritted and gnashed, her arms cradling her stomach as she doubled over in pain.

  Against his better judgment, Dr. Roberts approached her. His steps were cautious and methodical. If he had to guess, he figured some of the memories were returning, and with them, the
realization of the physical trauma her body had just endured. She volunteered for this procedure, that much was true, but she had been given ample warning about the immediate physical effects once she regained consciousness.

  He dropped to a knee, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Andersen..."

  Before Dr. Roberts could react, Jill lashed out at him, pushing him to the floor before her hands grabbed the lapel of his lab coat. She slammed the back of his head against the floor with a growl before her left fist collided with his nose. Even as he felt his nose break, Dr. Roberts noticed what sounded like the collision of metal on metal when she punched him. Dr. Roberts recoiled, his hands covering his nose, the warmth of his blood soaking onto his fingers.

  She raised her fist again, but the sound of guards approaching stopped her mid-swing. Panic set in before she released her grip on Dr. Roberts and bolted. His nose throbbing, Dr. Roberts could barely see as she leapt into a vent on the ceiling, her body disappearing just as the guards burst into the room. Two of them ran to opposite ends of the room, their boots clomping loudly on the floor as one tended to him.

  "What happened, sir?"

  "Andersen's awake." He cringed as he sat up, wiping at his nose with his shirt sleeve. "And... gone."

  "Should we pursue?"

  "No!" He grabbed the guard's shoulder, a fit of panic briefly overwhelming him. "No. Let her go. She'll be fine."

  Chapter 3

  Present day…

  The tallest building in the city of Baltimore, the Transamerica Tower, was as good a place to have a private conversation in the city as any. Then again, in the midst of fall, late-night rendezvous atop giant skyscrapers had their disadvantages. Jill zipped her black leather jacket up as far as she could, even though the zipper dug into her chin, before stuffing her hands in the pockets. Fortunately for her, the rainstorm had passed by this point; the actual deluge had lasted less than ten minutes. So while everything was damp, even with the brisk wind in her face, Jill appreciated the view of her city from this high. Feeling both nostalgic and dreadful, she glanced at her watch.

  Freeman was late.

  Lieutenant Colonel Joel Freeman, United States Army, was normally the definition of punctual. He had called it a requirement of the job. In Freeman’s world, showing up on time meant one was fifteen minutes late. Plenty in Jill’s platoon had struggled with Freeman’s edict, but she was already one to show up well before needed – a habit she’d developed in elementary school, thanks in large part to her father. Knowing Freeman the way she did, the fact that he was nowhere to be found ten minutes after their scheduled meeting time told her something was up.

  Jill felt vulnerable without her service piece. But seeing as how this was the furthest thing from official police business, she figured bringing her licensed firearm wasn’t the best idea. The last thing she needed to do was leave a trail that led the rest of the BPD to her. As it was, this case was likely to blow her cover; no sense in making it even easier on them.

  “I really should tell Ramon,” she whispered to herself.

  “Tell Ramon what?”

  The sound of Freeman’s voice startled Jill more than it probably should have. She whirled around with a gasp, her shoulders relaxing once she finally realized who was standing in front of her. She brushed past her former commanding officer with a smirk, her shoulder bumping against his. For them, that was a show of affection, as close to a hug as they would ever get.

  “First you’re late, then you scare the shit out of me.” She shook her head. “You really are a dick, sir.”

  He smiled in return. More accurately, the left corner of his mouth ticked up about a centimeter. That was as close as Freeman ever got to smiling.

  “You still need my help, though.” He approached Jill, his brown eyes darkening with concern. “What happened?”

  “Dr. Roberts is dead.” Jill sat against the ledge, pulling her hair back into a ponytail again. It was getting too unruly with the wind. “We found him in the bay.”

  Freeman joined Jill with a sigh, scratching an imaginary itch on the back of his head. His gray hair was cut close to his scalp, the same military-style cut he’d had for the past thirty-five years. He stared straight ahead, marveling in the downtown skyline. Jill was right, downtown Baltimore really was a sight to behold.

  “We being your homicide unit.”

  “Yep.” Jill stared at her hands, which rested on her knees. “Had his throat slashed.”

  “That it?” Freeman cast a sideways glance. “C’mon, Andersen. You and I both know you wouldn’t be calling me if it was just a throat-slashing.”

  Jill sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t sure how to break this news, if she was being perfectly honest, because every theory she had come up with since finding Dr. Roberts’ body led her to places she didn’t want to go. She knew it was related to her somehow, that it all went back to Project Fusion, and Jill was desperate for that part of her past not to come back to haunt her. If it did, that meant everything she had worked for since getting her badge was in jeopardy. It meant potentially letting a lot of people down, especially Captain Richards and Ramon. Those were the last two people she wanted to disappoint.

  “He, uh,” Jill swallowed back a mouthful of dread. “There was a big gash on his left arm. And, uh…”

  Freeman watched Jill run shaky fingers through her hair, expelling a ragged breath from her lips. “And what?”

  Confident they were the only ones on the roof, and that no one on the street below could see them, Jill carefully removed the skin graft from her face. She sighed in relief when it came off in one piece, fully revealing her metal eyeplate. Freeman recoiled slightly; it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen Jill like this since the project, it was still jarring.

  Her left eye was dim. “Someone cut open his chest, cracked his sternum, and stole his heart.”

  Understanding washed over Freeman. “Like they did to you.”

  “Yeah.” Jill shook her head. “Only I got my heart back, to go along with some kickass upgrades.”

  Freeman turned to look Jill in the eye, forcing himself not to react at the sight of half of her face covered in titanium. This was still Jill Andersen, perhaps the brightest soldier he ever trained. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t need Project Fusion, but she had made up her mind about that a long time ago. One thing Freeman learned about Jill early on: once she made up her mind, there wasn’t a damn thing to stop her.

  “Do your colleagues know?”

  Jill shook her head, momentarily averting her gaze before looking at Freeman. Her left eye brightened a bit and started to pulsate. She saw Freeman flinch, but she did her best to ignore it. There were times where even she still had trouble growing accustomed to the look. “It’s kinda been my own little secret.”

  “Why?” Freeman pressed when Jill shot him a confused glare. “Why would you keep it a secret, after you were so damn determined to go through with it? I would think the BPD would love having a super-cop on payroll.”

  “Because telling them would blow my cover.”

  “What cover?!” Freeman raised his voice, relenting only when he saw Jill flinch.

  Unzipping her leather jacket, Jill produced a folded-up piece of newspaper. Unfolding the clipping, she handed the paper to Freeman, pointing at the headline. In bold black letters, it read:

  VIGILANTE SPARKS CHASE DOWNTOWN

  TRIGGERS PILEUP

  Brow furrowed in confusion, Freeman continued reading, until he set the clipping down on his lap with a sigh. “A mysterious figure with flowing brown hair and a face like the Terminator.” He shook his head, handing the clipping back to Jill. “Is that you? Are you out there playing goddamn superhero?”

  “That’s me.” Jill’s voice was small as she pocketed the clipping. “Writer at the Sun calls me ‘Bounty’.”

  “Shit.” Freeman stood and started pacing back and forth. Producing a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans, he stuffed one into hi
s mouth, lit the end, and took a long drag. He closed his eyes, cigarette smoke fluttering into the night behind him. He pulled on his cigarette again before finally looking back at Jill.

  “Is this why you volunteered for Fusion?” Freeman flicked his half-smoked cigarette off the roof. “Was this your plan all along?”

  Jill stood with a shrug. “No!” Her shoulders relaxed. “No, I… I wasn’t planning on that. Not at first.”

  “What you’re doing is illegal.” Freeman jabbed a finger into Jill’s shoulder, ignoring the lack of reaction on her part. “The fact that you’ve got a badge makes it a hundred times worse!”

  “So what am I supposed to do? Sit back and watch this city go to shit every night?!” Jill shot back, completely ignoring the fact that Freeman was once her superior officer. She wasn’t in the service anymore; he no longer had any reason to talk down to her like this. “Yeah, I have a badge and a gun, but you know what, Joel? It’s not enough!”

  “When are you gonna learn that you don’t have to do it all, Jill?” Freeman shook his head, lighting another cigarette. “How many cops are there in this city?”

  “Three thousand, at least.” Jill snarled. “About half of them are dirty, and a lot of the ones who aren’t, couldn’t pick their own mother out of a lineup.”

  “So here comes big, bad Jill Andersen to save the day.”

  “Someone has to!”

  “Jill.” Freeman approached again, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You’re playing with fire here, you realize that? They’re going to find out, you’re going to lose your badge… hell, you might even wind up behind bars with a lot of the same dirtbags you’ve put there!”

  She broke free of his grip with ease, watching as Freeman took a step back with a startled look on his face. It was his first true glimpse of her strength since she left the Army. “Why do you think I called you?!” Freeman stiffened a little, the anger leaving his face. “I’m aware of the risks, Joel! I know what could happen if I get found out!”