A Mission Remembered

by Tanner Froreich

  I looked around. The lookout towers were empty, another providence. “We have to climb quickly,” I said to the group as I started climbing the first fence. “Before someone comes looking this way.”

  I reached the top of the fence and matted down the razor wire on top. The sharpened metal sliced through my hands, but they healed quick enough that the pain was bearable. Jung was quickly scaling the fence, and as he approached I said, “Careful, the wire.”

  Jung, Kwan, and finally Phineas, all climbed over the first fence and were safely on the other side with minimal cuts. Jung and his wife had to take a breath, as all this running about was taking its toll on them. We still had to scale the other fence. Once again, I was the first to the top. Jung and Kwan had already reached the other side as Phineas crested the top of the fence. A Korean guard shouted from the watchtower and fired at us with his automatic rifle.

  Thankfully for our sakes, he was a bad shot. Phineas scurried down the fence with myself shortly behind. The back of my shirt caught the wire, which sprang back up once I relieved the pressure. I was trying to untangle the shirt when the guard finally found his target. His bullets bore their way into my torso – one in my right shoulder, one in my left side, and one directly in my chest.

  There was another gunshot, much louder than the automatic, and the guard dropped. My strength gave out and my body fell, ripping free from the wire, and knocking Phineas off the fence. The last thing I remembered before going unconscious was seven agents pouncing upon our group.

  Chapter 18

  Different IODINE

  When I awoke, I was actually surprised to be alive. I thought for certain that the bullet to my chest would have sent me into eternity. I, however, found myself in another cell. At first, I thought I was still in Korea, but the state of the cell told me otherwise. The bed actually had a mattress and the toilet was clean. However, it wasn’t as roomy as the one in Korea. The room appeared to be shaped like a cube.

  Sitting up and looking around, I realized there were no bars. The only thing that was odd was an electric hum that was almost too quiet to hear. No door, nothing. The cell was opened and it seemed as if I could simply walk out. I sensed that something wasn’t right, but I ignored my instincts and approached the opening. I reached out my hand only to recoil back when a powerful shock jolted though my body.

  Residual electricity crackled across the force field and then faded, leaving the deceptively calm opening. I slumped down onto the bed and felt a pain where I had been shot. I inspected the wounds, and there were scars and signs of surgery. Whoever had imprisoned me must have wanted to keep me alive and I had a pretty good idea of who--IODINE.

  It was the only obvious choice. Surely IODINE wouldn’t have let anyone else take me. I sat for hours thinking about the egging question – why was I in a cell? I thought I was an agent. Yes, I disregarded Ethan's authority by going after Phineas and the other two, but shouldn’t I have awoken in better accommodations? I wondered what had become of Phineas. I hoped IODINE didn’t turn them over to the Korean government to be executed. I had sat long enough, so I started searching the cell for any structural faults I could find, but this cell had no signs of weakness. The walls were not made of concrete or cinder block. It was a hard, smooth surface; it was like a super plastic. I tapped along the wall until I found a hollow space.

  Taking the blanket from my bed, I wrapped it around my fist. I punched the wall as hard as I could, only to be suddenly shocked through the floor. Whatever this material was, it was conductive. The shock caused me to convulse and collapse on the bed. When I recovered from the jolt, I looked at the wall and it was as if I hadn’t touched it.

  Being trapped again by four walls drove me to the edge. I was tired of being captive, and for a moment doubt seeded itself into my thoughts. I feared that I would never be free. First I was trapped by Mindsweeper, then IODINE held me prisoner in a way, and with everything that happened in Korea, I wondered if I would ever rediscover the man I used to be.

  Frustration grew within me to a breaking point. With a shout I tried to hit the invisible wall again, only to be tossed backward. Again, and again I attacked the barrier that prevented my freedom to no avail. With my hands burnt by electricity and the rest of my body tingling from the current, I collapsed onto the floor, only to receive another minor shock.

  When I became aware of my surroundings again, I saw Derek sitting on a chair looking in at me. He wasn’t wearing his coat like usual, but his burgundy scarf only added to his downcast demeanor. Upon his face was a look of worry, disappointment, and shame. “Welcome to the Think-Tank. You got yourself into a heap of trouble Wallace.”

  “I think it’s now pointless to refer to me by that name. We both know it’s not mine.”

  He took a brief moment to register what I said and then asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

  I rested my arm on my bent knee as I leaned against the wall. “I remembered my name while I was gone. It’s Arphaxad Fredrick. I know you know because you gave me that science magazine when I was in the infirmary.”

  He sighed. “That’s because I couldn’t stand the deception any longer. You have to understand Arf, it was for your own safety. If you, in an unsafe mental state, accidentally mentioned your name in Korea, imagine what might have happened to your family. They would have become liabilities IODINE didn’t want in the firing line. But I simply couldn’t have it on my conscience anymore.”

  “So, I’m supposed to believe IODINE is now interested in protecting people, when our orders were to let three innocent people be executed?”

  “Your mission was to protect the Senator!” Derek exclaimed with fury that I didn’t know he was capable of. “I’m sorry, but do you know the results of you running off to save three strangers?”

  I began to explain that they were not strangers when he interrupted with, “He. Was. Killed.”

  I stopped speaking as he explained the circumstances of the senator’s death. Apparently after I ran off, Ethan and the others went to find the senator. They ran into Agent Kingsley, who had already gotten to the senator and was using him as leverage. Kingsley wanted to trade his own freedom for the senator’s life. Ethan tried to haggle the senator away from Kingsley, but Korean guards found them first. In the volley of gunfire that ensued, Kingsley and the Senator were killed, and Agent Johnson was injured. The news of the Senator’s death had quickly spread and now the American government was seriously considering war.

  After relaying the story and wiping sweat from his forehead with the scarf, Derek asked, “Do you see why this is your fault? If you had been there, there wouldn’t have been any negotiation and everyone would have been out of there before the guards found you.”

  I had to admit; I did feel guilty for the Senator’s death. If I had been there I could’ve done something. I wanted to explain to Derek about why I went after Phineas, but before I could, he stood up and folded his chair.

  “If it’s any consolation,” he said, “the three people you did save were safely brought back to the states and swore to keep your activity in Korea a secret.”

  He pressed a button on an electrical pad, which activated hydraulic pistons that lifted me about five feet into the air. “Also, Mr. Bordeaux and the Director are discussing what to do with you. They are not happy with your actions. I don’t know what they’re going to do, but considering the scientific potential you hold, I would start praying.”

  I was too consumed with my guilt to hear anything he had said. Knowing Wong and the others were safe was a comfort, but knowing I killed the senator and lit the flame of war shook me to my core.

  It took time for me to recover. I knew that I was guilty, and that I would carry that guilt to my grave. But I found peace knowing that God was in control. I had saved three lives, but now Phineas was sworn to silence. I wondered if I would ever see him again.

  While I struggled to rest in peace, trusting God, I heard three pairs of footsteps approaching, one of which belonged to
something big by the sound of each step. I couldn’t see them because they didn’t come into visual range, but there was a series of confusing sounds. First I heard the sound of a large body mass landing on the ground, along with a deep groan. Then the sound of electricity powering up and hydraulic pistons echoed through the room.

  Only two pairs of steps began to come my way. Two agents walked into my view. They looked up at me. The two wore white lab coats, and both also bore a sinister look in their eyes. A disturbing feature that was rather obscured was the spot of blood on one of their sleeves. One nodded to the other and pressed a button beyond my line of sight.

  The entire cell shook as I heard the hydraulic pistons lower my cell. My spirit was too downcast to put up a fight. The agents lowered the energy field and one came in and injected me with a drug that rendered me unconscious.

  I awoke tied down to an examination table. I would have tried to break free, but I didn’t have the strength. I tried to look down, but even my head was restrained. Though my soul was heavy, I knew that I wasn’t in a good position and needed to get out of it. With my restricted vision I could see one of those medical poles with a bag of unknown fluid hanging from it. I could feel that bag was connected to my right wrist, and on my left was something else. I used my hand to feel the tubing and felt something warm. I deduced that they were drawing blood. I had to remove the needle, so I slowly pulled the tube and painfully pulled it out of my wrist. However, I only made my problem worse. I pulled out the tube, but not the needle, so blood was just flowing out.

  Providentially, an agent came by and fixed the problem, and I was relieved when he took the needle out. I thanked him and tried to ask where I was, but he didn’t acknowledge me. Instead, he started poking and prodding me. I protested, but again he never acknowledged me. He started preparing an assortment of tools, many of which, from the corner of my eye, appeared to be unsettlingly sharp.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  The man gave a smile that bordered on the edge of maliciousness. “Just another experiment on another test-subject.”

  “I am no test-subject, I am an Agent. Speak to Derek Phillips – he’ll vouch for me.”

  The man shook his head. “Sorry, orders from Mr. Bordeaux.” With that, he slowly sliced my arm with a knife. The wound quickly healed, but not as quickly as normal. This was probably due to the blood loss. The man picked up a clipboard and wrote the result of the test.

  I jolted forward. My restraints went taut and held me down. The man placed his hand on my head in futile attempt to calm me. “Shhhh. This will be easier if you stay still.”

  I refused to be a test subject. I pulled and shook but couldn’t break the bonds. I tried to rock the table, but my torturer grabbed a syringe and put even more chemicals into my body. I lost the ability to control my members, and I could feel but I couldn’t move.

  He then persisted in performing his tests, but any normal human would call them tortures. I could feel everything he did to me, much of which I don’t want to remember. Though the pain was unbearable, I had no control of my body. I couldn’t flinch or even scream.

  Chapter 19

  Barriers

  Iwas returned to my cell beaten, broken, and scarred. I had seen the true side of IODINE. Was this what had befallen that poor beast that I had seen before Korea? Had he been subjected to similar horrific torments? Was he dulled and weakened by hideous chemicals and fractured and rent by tools of agony? Could he be in the other prison just beyond my sight? I wondered how long they had been experimenting upon him, and if I was destined for the same fate.

  Surely, my abilities couldn’t have originated within IODINE, otherwise these experiments would be useless. They must be trying to learn the limits of my powers, and my healing capabilities may not have been the start. Could part of Korea have been testing my speed? What if they planned for me to be here? I knew that I couldn’t trust IODINE, and this great conspiracy was growing by the day. I had to fight back, but how?

  Days went by, as scientists came and went either taking myself or the other prisoner. I assumed that Derek had failed in retrieving me from this valley. The tortures became worse with each test. Some I was put to sleep for, and when I awoke, I was certain I was missing parts of organs. I often wondered why they were taking so many samples of my tissues.

  I sat crouched in the corner of my cell – my fingers and toes bloody. I looked at them. My nails were slowly growing back. I was tired of these seemingly useless tortures. My spirit was as broken as my body was. I had tried to escape so many times. No matter what I did, everything failed. I didn’t have any resources, nor could I fight back. I had tried to withstand the shock from the electricity every time they came for me, but they would increase the power until I was weakened to the point that I couldn’t fight.

  In that corner, I cried out to God to save me from this prison. I had prayed so much to be saved. I had recited every Psalm I could remember, and every verse about salvation. I knew God would redeem me from this pit, but my faith waned with every passing day. The pain that would continue to be inflicted upon me was more than I could bear. I had reluctantly accepted that I was a slave here, with no hope to be saved. It was in this dark, hollow hole I was doomed to spend my life waiting for evil men to use my powers for their own ends.

  “God-d.” My voice, barely a whisper, quivered as I muttered my first sensible words in days. “Please help me.” I felt like a scared child. “Do you intend for me to die here, alone? Surely there is something more you have planned for me.”

  My head exploded with pain. I found myself in the room again, and I looked at the walls. The scripture that decorated it was constantly shuffling. I was drawn to it and read some aloud as it appeared and faded. Hear me, O Lord, for Your lovingkindness is good; Turn to me according to the multitude of Your tender mercies. And do not hide Your face from Your servant, For I am in trouble; Hear me speedily. Draw near to my soul and redeem it; Deliver me because of my enemies. Psalm 69:16-18.

  Suddenly, I was simply flashed to a scene. I was on the ground, laying on glass. I looked to my side and saw my wheelchair. I wanted to move, but my legs wouldn’t respond. I felt the pain I had experienced in that time, but I didn’t know why I felt that way. Anger. Sorrow. Hatred. They all pierced into my heart. I felt hopeless.

  The next scene was far quicker. I was running. Then the memory and migraine subsided, leaving me in my cell again. I tried to understand why these visions were shown to me. Perhaps God wanted me to know He had taken care of me in the past and would continue into the future.

  I tried to pray, but my prayer was cut short as I heard the ever-daunting footsteps of the Grinders, the men and women who were tasked with retrieving me and the other person from our cells as part of their daily grind. I had heard my torturers refer to them by this title. With each visit a sense of terror grew within me. As long as I could remember, I had not ever been afraid of anything, not even death. Yet these men had planted a seed of anguish in me. I felt like an animal, and that angered me. My fear turned to wrath, and I devised another plan.

  As the men approached the cell, I appeared to be asleep, exhausted from the tortures. However, they electrocuted me anyway. They had used a lower power setting, so I wasn’t completely weakened. When the two came into the cell, I sprang upon them. In a fury of rage, I let the ill prepared agents feel the pain of my fists as I had felt the pain of their knives. I grabbed one of them by the shoulders and flung him out of the cell.

  With another blow, the other man was rendered unconscious. I jumped out of the cell; freedom was just beyond my reach. I ran towards the doorway, not taking notice of the hand scanner on the wall. As I passed the threshold, I was met by a blast of electrical energy, sending me backward.

  I was unaware of my surroundings momentarily, and when I was conscious again, I was back in my cell. Another failed attempt. I started to condemn myself for not thinking that they would have multiple barriers. How could I have been so fo
olish to run headlong into an even more powerful barrier. The headache from the shock still crackled through my head like lightning in the sky. Yet in a fit of frustration, I yelled and pounded on the electrified wall.

  I fell to the ground; the fire of my anger still burned within me. I wanted to hurt IODINE. In a dark moment, I wanted to feel the throats of my captors in my tightening hands. Snapping back to my senses, I was horrified by my desire. This was not how a Christian should behave. “Oh God,” I began again, “Forgive me for this sin.” I cried out to God to help me to not give place to my wrath. Yet, I was still trapped.

  I felt like Jeremiah the prophet, who had been placed in a pit of mire for proclaiming the Word of the Lord. No matter which way I looked, I was surrounded by darkness. Freedom was impossible.

  I couldn’t give into despair. If I did, I would die here. I had to keep my head. I cried out, “Oh God. My God! Please, help me. Here in this prison I cry to You. I beg that in Your good mercy that You would save me. I cannot escape. Even with all my power, I cannot save myself. Please bring my soul out of prison, That I may praise Your name; The righteous shall surround me, For You shall deal bountifully with me (Psalm 142:7). Oh God! Deliver Your child!”

  The tortures never ceased, and I couldn’t escape, but I would have to try to find my peace in God. I could trust in Him to deliver me, but if He didn’t, I would still trust Him. I still prayed for freedom, but I also praised Him for freedom in spirit. I tried to sing some of the Psalms I knew, but my musical abilities were not that great.

  My behavior had changed so much that the scientists in charge of my tortures grew hesitant to take me away, fearing I had gone mad. Even in the midst of the bodily agony, I prayed to God for strength to endure.

  One day, as I lay strapped to the examination table, preparing my spirit to latch hold of the glory to come, I whispered to myself the words of Job in chapter 13 of the book named after him, verse 15, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.”