by Kipjo Ewers
She walked over to a bare unscathed wall, sat down, and waited for her time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the command deck of the facility ran by various computer analysts and technicians, the Director watched on the massive flat screen with satisfaction the subsiding of Sophia’s temper tantrum inside of her cell along with Dr. Zimmermann, Ms. Barrett, 3# and #1 the two remaining members of the D.E.A.D.
“See…just a little moody,” the Director motioned to everything being okay, “Probably her time of the month…how goes preparation doctor?”
“Based on the current DNA sample we have of her, I am sure we will be able to extract viable blood samples of the superior more compatible virus that can be used on future test subjects,” confirmed the Doctor.
“Excellent...when can we expect to begin the procedure…” the Director asked.
Dr. Zimmermann estimated off the top of his head, “Another half hour of calibrations…”
“Sir…General Matheson is calling in,” Ms. Barrett announced, “He wishes to speak with you…”
Director Rosen massaged his nose for the last person he wanted to speak to, “Put him on the screen…”
General Matheson appeared on the screen with his usual stone-faced demeanor wearing his service uniform, “Report…”
“Procedure is scheduled as planned sir,” reported the Director, “Subject is cooperating and we should have samples within the next hour or so…”
“After the debacle here, I have been forced to put out your fires Rosen,” the General said distastefully, “Which is directing a light to a project not yet ready to be revealed, which also directs light…to…me; and I don’t like the spotlight.”
“Well sir with all due respect this wouldn’t happen if…,” the Director went to defend his position.
The General cut him off denying him the chance, “Do not preach to me about past failures Rosen. I am a man who moves forward, and the fact is my bloodline was able to produce the results you failed to deliver all of these years; now…what of the child?”
“Safe,” said the Director flatly.
“Take care Rosen…that is my granddaughter in your custody,” the General warned, “Anything happens to her and I would not want to be you. As for her mother, when you’re done stripping the bitch…get rid of her…for good…are we clear?”
“Crystal sir…crystal…” the Director again flatly acknowledged the General’s orders.
The General signed off as Rosen massaged the bridge of his nose again feeling another migraine coming on, “I swear…that man needs more fiber in his diet…”
“Sir…after the procedure shall I begin scanning new candidates for the D.E.A.D project,” Ms. Barrett asked, “Now that #2 and #4 are deceased?”
Director Rosen dismissively glanced at the other two remaining members, “Negative… D.E.A.D project will be put on hold pending the trial tests of the new virus.”
#3 glared at #1 who nodded his head reading her thoughts, she then got up walking off; “I’m going to take a piss…”
The Director scowled his face turning quickly to watch her leave, before looking back at Ms. Barrett, “Did she really need to televise that?”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
She sat on the floor humming a little tune, something her mother use to hum to her as a child to help her to sleep as she waited. She remembered being in a similar situation almost seven days ago, but that woman sitting paralyzed with fear was no longer there. Sophia waited with a lazy calmness for them to come for her.
As the door slid open she did not even flinch, nor look up at the sound of heavy boots filling the room as two heavily armed guards and two lab techs in light white versions of the guards’ armor walked in. One of them holding the restraints they had on her before was visibly quaking with distress. One of the heavily armored storm type troopers cautiously walked up to her casting a shadow over her.
“Dennison…it’s time,” the first guard announced.
She rolled her eyes, and then sprang to her feet causing everyone in the room to coil back in either fear or precaution. She extended her arms without order waiting for the jittery lab tech to walk up to her and fasten the gravity pressure restraints. The hum of the device meant it restrained her again.
It did not stop her from moving so fast she was literally nose-to-nose with the lab tech, “Boo…”
The lab tech let out a small squeal as he fell to the floor while the guards in the room trained they rifles on her, could have been the fact that even though she was in restraints before, she killed an enhanced solider with a head-butt to the skull.
“Why so jumpy boys? Let’s get this show on the road…” she smiled.
She walked out of the door with her escorts, who were moving too keep up with her. The guards flanked her while the lab techs stayed a safe distance until they lead her into an elevator, which took them several levels further down into the facility. The lab techs hugged the walls of the elevator until it opened up and she was lead out.
She moved at a fast brisk place, as she seemed to want to get there in a hurry; her stride being swift and constant forced her entourage to move double time with her. She moved with purpose as if drawn to the location. Unlike before where she walked with fear and dread of the end, it appeared as if she looked forward to it, almost welcomed it. A smile almost formed on her face, until she hit that final turn.
At least a yard away from her destination stood #3 leaned against a wall waiting for her; she appeared to have a dazed look on her face, but when she turned to look at Sophia, there was pure hatred in her eyes; the type you would find in a demon. She had a walk as if she was drunk, but it appeared to be more with insanity.
“What the hell are you doing here?” demanded the second guard.
D.E.A.D #3 did not even hear the guard’s words as she focused strictly on Sophia, “How’s it feel?”
“#3, answer me!” ordered the second guard again.
It is as if only she and Sophia were in that hallway alone. She looked like she had the shakes as she edged closer to Sophia with the intent to pounce on her. Sophia smirked wishing she would.
D.E.A.D #3 asked her question in more detail, “How’s it feel to know that your Kill Bill vengeance riding off into the sunset bullshit with that little turd of yours was all for nothing? That in a couple of minutes you’re going to be nothing but period lumps in a Petri dish?”
“#3, cut the shit and stand down…now!” ordered the first guard.
Sophia knew what was going on; it appeared the sadistic bitch had a soft spot, and she struck it when she killed #4. It was the only clear explanation to her erratic behavior.
“I wanna know,” #3 continued with tunnel vision on Sophia, “How it feels to know that despite all your so-called strength and power you failed to avenge that two-bit traitorous lying sack of shit for a man that I carved up like a turkey…”
“#3! I told you!” The second guard moved forward to get into #3’s way.
She violent kicked in his kneecap breaking his leg in half, and then grabbed him launching him skull first into a nearby wall where he fell into a heap. A faint groan revealed that he was barely alive; the first guard quickly raised his rifle with laser sighting on #3’s skull as the now terrified lab techs stood there unsure what to do; almost within striking distance as she appeared to be taunting Sophia.
“You’re going to go through those doors right now, where these lab geeks are going to tear you apart…bit by bit…till there is barely anything left…,” #3 hissed, “I might just go do the same to that little girl of yours. Maybe I’ll ask the Director if I can keep what’s left after they’re done stripping her of what they need. I could be her mommy…dearest…”
Sophia knew what she was after, but she would not give it to her; instead, she gave her the answer she was not expecting.
“You trying to get a rise out of me little girl,” Sophia tilted her head disappointed; “You don’t think I don’t know
what’s going on here? Who you really are? You think you’re some solider? You believe they’ll pin a Medal of Honor on you when all of this is done? You’re an attack dog…less than a mongrel… another one of this country’s dirty little secrets, a shit stain, due for a deep treatment. Nothing more than a number easily replaced, and will soon be obsolete if they’re successful of making more of me. No one will know who you are, or be told the so called “deeds” you’ve done for your country.”
She leaned in closer looking #3 in her soulless eyes, “Yeah I know I might die here today, because your boss wants my very value DNA. But you…you’re going to die because you’ll now be worthless to him…just like your man, who I killed in front of you.”
“Tell me…do they have a nice little coffin for him all wrapped in a flag with a twenty-one gun salute? Or is he lying on a slab somewhere waiting to be chucked into a furnace like the garbage he is?” Sophia smirked.
#3 visibly enraged moved closer baring her teeth, her attempt to get under Sophia’s skin backfired, as it appeared Sophia was the one to drive a dagger into one of her open wounds. She would drive her carbon fibered dagger into her skull repeatedly if she knew it would not break on impact against her ultra-dense skin.
#3 leaned forward for one final verbal assault, “When the police report said forty-one stab wounds they were very accurate….”
She moved closer within striking range of Sophia, “And that little neurotoxin…the one that paralyzed his muscles but kept his nerve receptors all intact…it didn’t just make him feel everything…it amplified it... Like a cat’s tongue…poor little Marine tried to scream and cry out your name as you sat across the room from him while I did him…do you know he pissed himself? Your doctor friend had more balls than him...at least he only squealed like a pig when I slit his throat from ear to ear…but nothing gave me greater joy…than dressing up and pretending to be you. The bank…the ATM…the drive to Oklahoma…the hotel…being in your skin…wearing your clothes…and imaging the look on your face when you saw yourself doing all those horrible things and not remember doing any of them…I almost creamed myself thinking about it.”
Sophia leaned closer herself, eyes locked with #3, “The only reason you’re still standing and breathing…is because there’s still….”
Before she could finish her sentence D.E.A.D # 3 fired a glob of spit into Sophia’s face, she grinned and braced herself waiting for a reaction, waiting to see if she would lunge at her.
Sophia just looked at her with a dull blank emotionless look as she allowed the saliva to run down her face.
“Still two more left,” she continued to say, “The other one…and the Director…before you die…and when you die…I promise you…you will suffer…and I will watch you die screaming…”
Director Rosen’s voice finally came over the PA system in the hallway, “As much as I find this little verbal catfight entertaining, #3… get your narrow white ass out of the way before I turn that dumb blonde skull of yours into mush right in front of her…now.”
A scowl of embarrassment was now plastered over #3’s face as additional guards and a med team showed up to take care of the guard she badly injured. She took her time lazily moving out of the way keeping her eyes locked with Sophia.
Sophia continued to her destination once again uninterrupted with a new escort team of eight guards and the original two lab techs. As the double doors slid open it was as she expected it to be, another white tiled sterilized room with those god-awful operating room lights.
What she did not expect was the massive black chromed egg in the middle of the room. At least six technicians flocked around it for last minute checks. They all stopped for a minute to gaze on her, the super human who they would soon be harvesting.
One by one, they came to their senses quickly going back to the task of readying the egg like chamber. On her face was written this “let’s get this over with” expression while her heart was beating a bit faster on the inside. Being superhuman did not mean her fear was gone, that it would not eventually set in; her continuation to advance was pure motivation, someone was depending on her.
As they finally neared the pod, it cracked open in the middle emitting a frosty smoke that bellowed out as the two halves slid open. She saw a metallic cross like table inside similar to the lethal injection table back at the Mountain View Unit, only this one had a metallic coiled harness and restraints for each of her limps and a part metal part crystal like helmet attached to a cylinder for her head.
Just as she suspected, there were ports that aligned with the ports on her bodysuit. Sophia also noticed that the egg attached to a cylinder base, leading down to an opening in the floor in the shape of the egg itself. Her guess was once she was strapped in; the egg would close lowering her down somewhere. What a way to go.
One of the technicians that escorted her to the room finally came over and removed the restraints from her wrists, allowing her to wipe #3’s spittle from her face with her forearm and nurse her wrists, which had to endure kilotons of pressure on them.
An armored Shock Trooper tapped her back with the butt of his rifle, “Get in…”
She ignored his order still nursing her wrists, planted in place refusing to move.
The Shock Trooper Guard tapped her a bit rougher, “I said…get…”
She responded with a vicious backhand to his helmet not even looking at him as she sent him flying across the room into a wall before falling into a heap on the floor. Rifles once again trained on her as technicians backed away to the nearest wall in fright, while she continued to nurse circulation back into her wrists; one final act of defiance.
“Is there a problem?” the Director’s voice came over the PA system.
“You’re damn right there’s a problem,” she said, “I’m not moving an inch until I see my end of the bargain fulfilled.”
“Very well…” the Director sighed.
One of the monitors in the room came to life showing Mark Armitage holding the hand of Sophia’s daughter. Sophia’s smile appeared then quickly disappeared as she saw, the troubled expression on Armitage’s face, while the little girl looked around aimlessly without an apparent care in the world. The screen panned out to show them surrounded by Shock Troopers pointing their rifles at them; off to the side was Agent Slater brandishing a large machete like blade.
The remaining guards standing in the room with her swarmed in front of the only door blocking it, as an enraged Sophia losing it prepared to rush the doors she came through tearing whoever was in front of them apart, “That’s not the deal!”
“Go ahead…try it,” the Director dared her, “She will be dead by the time you get through those guards and tear those doors open…”
“You back stabbing son of a bitch!” she screamed, “That was not the deal!”
“Well I am changing the deal!” he snapped back at her, “You now see your daughter alive and well, the deal now is you will step into that egg to ensure that her life continues. Frankly I am tired of this drama.”
“I am tired of the General…your dead husband, and I am tired of you standing in the way of progress. I have waited long enough, and I shall wait no…more…,” ranted the Director, “So you have until I count to three, and then you can rip through those guards, and tear open those doors, because the next thing you will see are the guards on the monitor opening fire on your daughter and Agent Armitage. Followed by Agent Slater lopping off your daughter’s head with the blade in his hand ensuring she can’t regenerate and become like you.”
He continued to taunt her apparently at his limit, “Tear this place apart afterwards I really don’t care, because after that you will have to live with the guilt that your selfishness caused the gruesome death of your daughter. You alone will live with that guilt for the rest of your life, which will apparently be for a long life span. So decide now, the chamber…or mourning over a headless bullet riddled corpse? One…”
