by P. S. Power
The man might be as new to that kind of thing as the others, but he at least had picked up on what Kerry was feeling. It wasn’t a power, but he wasn’t wrong about it either. Then, after cleaning up after herself, she scurried off to the head office, which was well lit still. It was dark outside, and cold, so she wore her warm coat and tried to hurry inside.
Wren was behind the desk, listening carefully to what was going on in the other room. Because Sinclair and Phoebe were inside. They weren’t being screamed at, but it was taking work for Marcia to keep her cool. Not waiting for an invitation, Cin just walked in, opening the door, and closing it behind her as silence filled the room. Then she started to skim, reading what everyone had going on right over their heads.
Oddly, the girls were both afraid they were going to be sent to prison, if not killed, and Marcia… Was worried about what was going on in D.C. Rachel was managing things with the military well enough, but there was still some friction happening. Killing one of their people was kind of a big issue, it seemed.
Being a lovely flower, Cindy looked at Marcia, and went still.
“I’m supposed to go to D.C. in three days? Is that about the military man I had tortured to death?” She said it that way on purpose, trying to freak the two girls out a bit. It worked, and Sinclair went ghostly pale over it.
Phoebe less so, though she was hardly dark skinned enough to hide that kind of thing.
Sinclair sounded scared when she opened her mouth.
“Are you… Going to do that to us?”
Marcia looked from one girl to the other, and then at Cindy, expecting her to blurt out that it had been promised to her. That wasn’t exactly true, however. It had been more of an order. Rather than tease them more, her heart not being in it suddenly, she shook her head.
“Probably not. We probably won’t even lock you up, or kill you. Instead you’ll both need to finish a tour of duty here, and keep your noses clean. Then you can leave if you want. You really could have before. What you did… Well, Sinclair, you get that one right? You aren’t responsible for the rapes that happened, but you walked dead into that one anyway. Don’t even try to pretend that you couldn’t have known that the bad guys might be creeps. It’s right there in the name. Bad guys. Thankfully they hadn’t gotten to Phoebe yet. They would have, you know that, right? In another few weeks, they would have been taking turns with her, drugging her so much she might not have even been able to take them out with her powers. Because it didn’t occur to you to just walk in here and tell Marcia that you quit. It was stupid on a level…” She growled a bit, frustrated, and paced, doing that behind the girl’s as Marcia looked on, concerned.
No one spoke for long enough that she figured it was her turn to go again.
“That’s the rub here, kids. You went off and got yourself raped, betraying us, when all you had to do was come in here and say that you wanted to leave. Hell, you could do it right now, and Marcia would let you go! I won’t. Not until you prove yourselves again. I was told that my job would be torturing you both to death. Do you understand that? Not as a euphemism. Actually slicing bits off of you until you died, days later, praying that you were about to black out for the final time.” She paused, and closed her eyes.
Then she lied.
“Oh. That’s nice. I nearly managed to come just then, thinking about it. Really… Marcia, I don’t think that they’re going to learn anything this way. How about we tie them up and have a bit of fun?”
It was enough that Sinclair actually tried to teleport away, which meant that Cindy hit her in the head a full second before she picked a destination. The noise filled the room, but Ms. Turner didn’t scold her for the seemingly random violence. She didn’t even speak.
“Nope. No running now, Sinclair. I can let you go… but you have to prove to me that you’re worth it first. If you aren’t, then me getting my jollies is the only value that you have, understood? Do what I say, and live. After a year or so you can even be free. Don’t do what I say, and I get to have a grand old time. I win. That’s the only way this works. You just get to pick how I do that.”
Sinclair tried to teleport again, and was punched in the back of the head, pretty hard. Enough that Cindy’s right fist hurt from it. On the interesting side, the girl slumped over, her book saying that she was unconscious. Next to her, Phoebe looked terrified. She’d managed not to be too abused so far, and like Marcia, wasn’t getting that each blow had been done to prevent fleeing.
So she jumped when she heard her name.
“Phoebs, can you heal Sinclair for us? We might have to do this for a while, until she realizes that she can’t just run from us now.” Cindy knew that the nice looking blonde girl had to have a sore head, since her hand throbbed from the blows.
The nervous healer looked at her and nodded.
“Fucking monkey spunk.” It wasn’t what she was trying to say, which was actually don’t hurt me. There might have even been a please tacked on, if the words had come out right.
“Right, I hear what you mean. That healing? Thanks.”
Sinclair didn’t need to be sucker punched again, though she seemed to think that she was about to be raped. By Cindy. It was causing her to nearly panic, in fact.
Even if it wasn’t rational. Then, she had claimed that she’d almost gotten off just talking about torture. It wasn’t true, but no one else in the room really knew that.
“Listen up. Both of you are on probation. One year, best behavior. Understood? Fuck this up, and it won’t be a prison cell or even a hole in the ground that you face. Do you get what I mean? If not, tell me right now, and I’ll instruct you enough that you will believe in the pain of failure.”
Interestingly, Sinclair looked to Marcia for help.
“She can’t really do that, can she?”
They were all dressed in tan, and looked like a military all girls club. Sinclair was the prettiest one, with Marcia being second and her tying up with Phoebe more or less. They all looked young, too. The only thing that said who was in charge was the sense of command coming off of Ms. Turner as she stood up and leaned on her hands, staring down into the girl’s eyes.
“Can she do it? Yes. Not legally, but she’s done it before. The President gave her a pardon for it. Not because it was legal, but because she saved his wife. From the same people that you got sucked in with? That means she’ll be willing to do it again. She might even get away with it. On the good side, if you follow her rules, you might make it out of this alive. I… here, wait a second…” She pulled some papers from a desk drawer, and turned them after looking briefly. That way each girl could see their own names, very near the top.
Underneath where it said Death Warrant. The print was big and bold. Almost like it was an award, or a diploma from a trade school. Designed that way so that no one seeing one would miss what it meant.
“Notice, down there at the bottom? That’s her name. Cinnamon Mableton. There’s no date on these. At any time, if you fail to show that you are one hundred percent committed to our program, I can put that on and Cindy will be allowed to do anything she wants to end your lives. Technically that can mean a week of torture, if she chooses to do it that way. You’re both Infected, so you don’t have a lot of options at this point.” She pulled the papers back, and then stacked them together, placing them carefully in the file drawer to her right hand side.
Then she looked at Cindy.
“So there are two things working for you here. The first is that the same woman that wants to torture you to death also put in for you to have a second chance. Trust me, you weren’t going to be offered probation when you came in here today. I actually figured that we’d be driving bits of bamboo under your fingernails about now, to be honest. In other words, welcome to the most dangerous situation you’ve ever been in ladies. If you want to keep breathing, you need to make Cin a happy girl. As far as I know, there are only two ways to do that. Scream in pain, or follow her rules. Pick carefully.”
She
sounded sinister as hell. For a moment, right up until she let the girls go back to their old rooms, Cindy nearly bought it.
Right until the woman started to laugh.
“Serves them right. Still, we need to have them watched. You’re on that part?”
“Sure thing, boss. So, I’m supposed to take a trip soon?”
The woman nodded, and gave her something approaching a smile.
“In a few days. Like you mentioned. It should only be one or two days being away. I even arranged for you to go alone, so that you know how trusted you are. Plus, it will save money. Our budget is crap this year. It’s all the new building projects. You’re all right with that? Rachel will meet you there and take you where you need to go. It’s mainly about patting you on the butt. Some of the people doing it will even be trying to be polite about it. The rest just want to punish you for being Infected. Same old thing, you know?”
The thing there was that she kind of did.
It really was about what all Infected expected from life, after all.
Chapter ten
The trip to D.C. wasn’t supposed to happen for a few days, but it was kind of clear that just leaving Sara like the plan called for wasn’t going to go over very well. Not if they wanted to leave the kid feeling loved and cared for. That was the real plan, and about the best they had as far as making certain the world didn’t end in a single, painful, tantrum. Taking her along on the journey meant going with Lauren at the same time, and arranging for Rachel to get time off to go and see the sights. Marcia wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first, either. Even if she was willing to admit that things had changed. Not just because of the change in plans.
It was all about the money side of things.
The boss lady expected the room to be more expensive, even if they were all willing to share, plus there would be plane fare for three people instead of one. The whole thing was getting tense, as the boss tried to figure out how to get it all done without just spending her own cash on the project. Cin had a little put by, but not enough for that kind of thing. Not on short notice. It would have literally taken all of her remaining cash just to get them there.
In the end, the answer came from Brian, of course.
The man, dressed in tan fatigues, had a bright blue splotch on his right cheek. It wasn’t even a bruise, seeming to be ink, of all things. He touched it first thing, since Cindy was staring at it, and made a face. It was a bit rueful, if she had to guess.
“An Infected that shot goo from her hands. It didn’t sting or anything, but it ruined the outfit I had on. Medical figures it will be a few days for this to fade.” He looked a bit rueful, but the words over his head told about how hard he’d worked to save the angry seeming woman. Goo spreading aside.
She’d been upset, after being harassed by several teen boys, and had fought, spraying them all like she had Brian. The cops had figured that she was the attacker when they got to the scene, because Infected, even if her mode involved ironing obsessively. As in making cloth wrinkle free. The boys hadn’t even been going after her for being different. She was just pretty enough that they’d messed up trying to hit on her, and things had escalated. Then gotten out of hand when people with lethal force options had been brought in.
In the end, Proxy had managed to get everyone calmed down, and they’d worked things out, without an arrest being made. The whole thing had been hard on him, since he kind of suspected that the police were almost always in the wrong, but he’d swallowed his pride and upset feelings to protect the others involved. Which had ended up with him being sprayed by what amounted to squid ink, to prevent the police from being hit, so they wouldn’t shoot the woman who was freaking out, due to the fact that the men clearly planned to kill her.
On the great side, they really hadn’t wanted to. Even Brian had been able to get that one. The police had been scared, and nearly panicked, but they’d pulled out a win at the end, by being human beings instead of bullies.
He grinned and shook his head, but got that he wouldn’t need to describe the whole thing to her.
“I can take you to your hotel and back? All three of you? That way you won’t have to sit on a plane, and Marcia won’t have to scream at me for not fixing this already.” That part wouldn’t really be happening, since the woman wanted to hold back screaming for important events, but the other option, to his mind, was for him to pay for it out of pocket.
The teleportation thing made more sense. It was work for him, but only about five minute’s worth, and then he’d know how to get to them, in case an emergency came up. There was, in the back of his head, an inkling that something might. What that was, he couldn’t tell yet. The only thing his subconscious mind had on it was that not going wouldn’t actually prevent it. That would just force the whole thing into being at a different time and place. One where the outcome might not be as useful to them.
Ms. Turner smiled at the idea, and sat back, steepled fingers directly over her elbows, propped on her rather nice oak desk, then gave Brian a satisfied look. Her curly brown hair was loose and hanging down that day. Normally she either did that or tied it back, with a single hair band. This was a better style for her, making her look better, but Cindy wasn’t going to tell her that. She was saving the compliments until she needed to butter the woman up for something.
“That works for me. You’ll still be in a three-star hotel. Only now you’ll have more people in your tiny room. On the good side, I can actually give you each a per-diem for food. Don’t count on eating out too often. Not anyplace nice. You can go a few days without eating, right?” She was being cute, or trying to be, but got a nod in return.
“I can. Lauren doesn’t need that much either. Not in her human state. Sara… Well, if she goes in as a little girl, that won’t be a problem. I was thinking that she should develop a persona in her new form. That being the un-Infected teen girl that has no powers.” Which meant eating more, since that would have her going in as one of the top twenty or so physically powered people in the world. While not actually using those powers, as a lesson in control. Cin didn’t mention that, but the other two actually understood that something was up that way.
Marcia, simply because she was in the loop on that one. Brian because his clever brain had actually figured out that it wouldn’t have been mentioned the way she had, if there wasn’t something else going on. He’d seen the new form, but Sara had been really careful not to do anything physical in that shape yet. Not even running for her daily exercises. That got done in her big form, or her little one, which was adorable to watch. She’d even taken to practicing fighting in both forms, with Hobbs. The kid wasn’t very good yet, but when it came down to it, anyone trying to grab her was going to be in for a surprise. Regardless of how she looked at the moment she was taken.
No one explained it to Brian though, because he honestly wasn’t in charge there. In a lot of ways, Cindy was ranking at almost the same place that he was, for their organization. That bossy-annoying position where they got things done, but had no real power. Not officially.
“Brian, can you bring in food for us? We can tuck it in the room, and eat on the cheap that way. It’s a bit low rent, but if we’re pinching pennies, we are. Acting otherwise would be stupid. Plus, if you’re coming and going, you can bring Mark in. In the evenings? We need to make a point of making certain Sara has her people all the time for a while. Years, not just days.” Which meant Brian stepping up too. He got busy, and a lot of the time there was no way for him to control that part of things.
It wasn’t a good excuse for the rest of the time, however.
Which he understood, without things being hinted at in his direction at all. Rather than feel guilty about the past, he just nodded, and smiled at Cindy. As if she were doing something good.
“No problem. Really, we can all come and go as we want, as long as I don’t get called out for anything in particular. To be honest, I’m not certain why Cindy is going at all. To tell them how she found the nukes
? I hear that the sixth on you found practically floored President Lawrence. The NTA actually asked that you be brought in to work with them full time. He told them no, but suggested that you’d help them out on demand? Still, they all know that. They have it in writing already.” It was clear that he was worried on that score, even if he wasn’t showing it on the outside. The screen over his head was focused on that part pretty hard, however.
It was a real point, but Marcia just shook her head a bit. It got her curls to sway gently.
“They can’t touch her on anything from her past… Which was my first thought on the matter. My guess? Someone there thinks that they can get on her good side and lure her away from us. Which…” She shrugged, and laid a smooth, rather pale, hand on the brown desktop. “I can’t tell you not to take a new job, at this point. You have a full pardon. I was trying to hide that part from her, but that lasted about ten minutes. I even had the President on my side on hiding that one, but I should have known it was wasted effort. The paperwork is signed and real, which means we can’t actually keep you now. Not with any kind of threat. I can’t even pay you more than I have been, the rates for that being set, so… If they offer enough it might be worth it to you?” The woman was kind of worried. Not just that she’d leave, but that if she did, that little Sara would be left with yet another person suddenly being gone from her life.
Which wasn’t the lesson they needed the potential class ten to take from the world. After all, combat class rankings meant something. A class one, which was basically where Cin ran, for all that people had claimed more for her, indicated she was pretty much as good in a fight as a normal person that had some basic training. There was a lot of leeway there, however.
A big man with her martial arts skills might be a class two, for instance. A person that, if they fought with an armed soldier could, sometimes, win, even if they were unarmed. Proxy was said to be a class two, for instance. A person with a handgun was a class three. A rifle as well, unless they were incredible with it. A class five was considered to be unstoppable by the regular police, even working as a team. At that level they could take on large groups of armed and armored soldiers as a rule.