Redemptio Animae

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Redemptio Animae Page 75

by Sydney Gibson


  Kit sighed, smiling against my lips before parting from me, "How did you know it was me?"

  I ran my hand down her cheek, loving the way she looked in the moonlight hovering over me, "Your cheap body wash, the one that smells like vanilla and almond." I ran my hand down to her neck, gently pressing my fingers into her neck, "And that you are wearing my perfume." I kissed the corner of her mouth, "It smells better on you."

  Kit giggled and snuggled back into my shoulder, "Yes it does."

  I laughed with her, sliding my arms around her back to hold her against me. Kit mumbled on my shoulder, "You need to sleep, Rebecca told me the surgery took longer than you expected."

  I nodded, sleep slowly threatening to take over now that I had Kit in my arms, "Mmhmm. It worked, Beth will have an incredible life." I drifted off, feeling Kit's heart pound on mine. "Kit, we can talk in the morning. Just hold me."

  I felt her nod on my shoulder, "Yes doctor." I fell back into a deep sleep, not caring that Kit's body heat was overwhelming and she was smothering me. All I knew was that it made me feel complete and I would never want to be without it.

  Without her.

  Claire was still out cold when morning pushed into the room. She was tangled up in me, her face mushed into my neck and her arm across my waist, clutching me with such a sense of possession that it made my heart skip a beat whenever I felt her hand squeeze my side throughout the night. I had woken up a few hours after I fell asleep in her arms. I wasn't very tired, having passed out on the flight to Geneva then my excitement to see her took over.

  Davey dropped me off at the cottage, Rebecca waiting at the front door to let me in. She smiled genuinely at me as she spoke, "Welcome home, Kit." I was still getting used to the woman's new found appreciation of me.

  I looked around the room, taking in the way it reminded me of the Avondale estate in how warm and cozy it was. For a minute, I wondered if the house Claire and I would have could look like this? I looked down at the blonde in my arms, she was my home, my life and I wanted to spend every minute of my life with her. Never would I want to be apart from her if it was at all possible.

  I ran my hand over her soft hair, making her stir a bit and roll over. Claire was exhausted and I wanted her to sleep as much as possible before I went over what happened at the station with the beast. I looked over her shoulder, the clock on the wall telling me it was half past eight. My stomach rumbling to tell me that I should fill it with something other than peanuts and cookies. The only things offered on the flight over.

  I also caught the manila envelope on the desk under the clock. The same one that held Jessica's DNA profile. I slowly slid out of the bed, covering Claire up with the blankets before walking over to the desk. I picked up my bag I had dropped at the door the instant I saw Claire in bed and all I could focus on was crawling in with her. I pulled out a pair of baggy sweatpants and slipped them on. The room was warm but there was still a light chill from the massive windows. I picked up the thick manila envelope, glancing over at Claire one more time before I left the bedroom.

  I moved down to the kitchen, starting up a pot of coffee and grabbing a few muffins in the fridge, I hopped up on the counter. Sitting next to the coffee burbling and opened the manila envelope. I dumped out the contents into my hand, it was the full genetic map of the sample I had sent through Davey to Claire. I also caught the edges of a brown personnel file with the USMC logo in black. I set the genetic map to the side, not really understanding most of what it would have to say, leaving it for Claire to decode and explain when she woke up.

  I went to the USMC file and opened it. It was similar to Jessica's. A full military and personal record of the beast I had met in San Diego. The photograph in front of me was that of a smiling, happy young man with the traditional buzz cut of the Marines. Even though the eyes were brown, I could still see the same glint I had seen for a split second in the beast when he asked to be set free.

  I sighed, looking to the name of the man that became that beast. Captain Donald Benson, USMC. Age 32 and attached to the same convoy unit Jessica was. Both had served at the same time and as I flipped through the file. I saw that Benson was exactly like Jessica. Proud to serve and had plenty of commendations in his time in Afghanistan and Iraq. Being a highly revered officer among his men and was looking to an early retirement in a year or two. I flipped through the commendations to the back of the file where it moved into the incident that sent Benson to Dr. Bourne.

  A month after Jessica had been injured and sent to the rear, Benson was in a helicopter crash. A medevac that took on rocket fire and hit the ground hard. Benson was the only survivor, dragged out of the burning wreckage by a local farmer. The majority of his body was shattered and torn, he was stabilized in the field and quickly sent to Germany where doctors tried to put him back together, but soon found it to be a wasted effort. He was given painkillers to ease his last few months before death eventually came. That's where his Marine filed ended and his life with Dr. Bourne began.

  Benson was handed over to Dr. Bourne in his last month of supposed life, the military basically handing him off to free them of the eventual. I looked up from the file, the military should have let him die in their care. I reached for the coffee pot, pouring fresh coffee in a mug shaped like a gnome. I took a healthy sip before diving into the madness of Dr. Bourne.

  She had treated Benson worse than the rest, he was the last patient she had brought in before the accident that destroyed the lab. It was clear she was on the edge of losing her mind and falling fully into that of a mad scientist. I struggled over her entries.

  "This one is difficult now that his vocal chords have healed. I introduced Apis to him and there seems to be a flicker of recognition between the two. I pulled Apis aside, but she won't speak further. Even after I encourage her to speak. Note, the electrical shocks are no longer working on her. Her skin has grown too thick for the charge to permeate. I will move to other means.

  This new one, whom I shall call Micrapis from now on since there is a strange connection between him and Apis, is strong. It has to be his Marine training and pride that is preventing him from bending. His strength has been valuable. He moved through the first six phases quickly and is actually surpassing Honey in the new tests. Tonight I will inject the regeneration serum in him, then run him through the blade tunnel and follow with fire testing."

  I clenched my jaw at the way Dr. Bourne treated humans. I flipped a few more pages.

  "Micrapis has been here for two months now. There is something definitely going on between him and Apis. They are always huddled in their rooms talking to each other. There is some physical connection between the two and Micrapis has begun to grow hostile towards me when I attempt to run more tests on Apis. He actually grabbed me the other day when I was running the last skin grafts on her. She was shrieking in pain and I continued. I was suddenly lifted from my feet, held up by my left arm and dangled over the floor like a child's toy. Micrapis hissed at me, telling me to cease my testing on Apis before he shattered me. I laughed in his face, knowing that I could kill him with a flick of a switch and a quick injection. He eventually set me down at the quiet prodding of Apis.

  I must investigate their connection further. It could prove valuable. Also I need to monitor Micrapis strength, he appears to be moving past the normal documented expected levels and closer to the hypothesized ones of the fabled super soldiers the CIA is clamoring for."

  I threw the rest of the file down, not being able to stomach the endless rants of Dr. Bourne’s casual abuse and torture of Benson and Jessica. I picked up the last thin packet from the back of the file. It had Rebecca's handwriting on it.

  "Claire,

  I found this through my connections in the NSA. When they ran Benson's DNA to find his military file, a ping hit on a blood test taken in Fairfax County. A small courthouse there had these files. Public record, but not anything any of us would ever to think to look for when trying to find secret lab tests."

&nb
sp; I turned the page over. It was a standard marriage license from the courthouse in Fairfax County. Making the marriage of Donald Benson and Jessica Cornwall legal. The date of their license was dated three months before both of their accidents. They had both gotten a quick trip home for R&R and done a shotgun wedding. Married legally and from Rebecca's other notes, had a small reception at a bar near the courthouse, ten friends and family as the only guests. Their honeymoon was spent flying back to the war zone where they kept their marriage a secret until Rebecca found it.

  I slowly set the marriage license down. My eyes tearing over, no wonder Benson demanded to know if I killed Jessica, if he was staring at the person who killed his wife, the woman he loved and protected for so long then lost to the hands of Dr. Bourne, then to Alistair and lastly to me.

  I swallowed hard, staring at my feet as they swung lightly off the counter top. That was why he was giving up, giving me the DNA I needed to unlock the secrets he held and Dr. Bourne hid from the world. He wanted to be set free so he could find the woman he loved on the other side. The only place he knew where the two of them could find what they had. Peace and love. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, guilt washing over me for killing someone that was loved. It brought back all the memories of Montreal, Callum. I had killed Jessica like I had killed Callum, both had been so corrupted by a life they created for themselves and it was left to someone else to end it.

  I raised my head up, glancing at the smiling face of Benson. He reminded me of myself that day in Montreal. I went to pick up the file and shove it away when something struck me. His words, Jessica's words about my past all coming together. How she told me I wasn't like the old Caitriona, that I didn't let love cloud every thought. Then Benson telling me I was the only one who could set him free because I understood what it took, what had to be done in the name of love and for those we loved. I stared at the young Marine, they knew about Callum. Benson clearly said that when he told me Alistair had provided them with my files to set them on my trail. But their words, all went beyond files and hard cold letters of files. There was someone else who knew more and was telling Alistair. Using my life to bait me further into this twisted game, playing on my past to push me closer to Claire. Push me closer into the bull’s eye.

  I swallowed hard, my tears turning into anger as I scooped up the files and jammed them back into the envelope. I had Benson and Jessica, but that didn't lead me closer to Alistair. I would have to find Rebecca and ask for her help to dig deeper. We had one more person to search out, but I also knew there was someone else behind Alistair that was fueling his fire and helping him direct it at both Claire and I.

  I shoved the envelope off to the side, grabbing my cup of coffee and pouring a fresh one for Claire. I knew she would be up the second she rolled over and found my side empty and cold. I also wanted to distract my thoughts away from the horrors I just read in Benson's file.

  I walked into the room to find Claire sitting up in the bed, stretching and running her hands over her hair. She caught my eyes and grinned. "I thought I was dreaming.” She pulled the blanket up over her chest, "But here you are."

  I smiled, handing her the cup of coffee and sitting on the edge. My hand falling to her blanket covered thigh and squeezing it, "Here I am." I sipped the coffee, trying to push my head away from Benson and towards the woman I loved sitting in front of me, "You don't remember sleeping on me all night? All tangled up in me so deeply I couldn't move?"

  Claire blushed, rolling her eyes, "I don't do such things."

  I bent forward, kissing her forehead, "You do do such things, especially when you're cold." I ran my hand over her hair, sighing as the thoughts of losing her like Benson had lost Jessica creeping in. We were sadly in a similar situation and I now understood the pain he felt, and why he raged out against Tito. If I lost Claire, no one or nothing would stop me from destroying everything and everyone responsible. I smiled and drank my coffee, trying to cover up what Claire would quickly see in my eyes.

  I wasn't fast enough. I felt her hand on mine, picking it up so her fingers could link with mine, "Kit, what is it?"

  I shook my head, "We can talk later." I bit my bottom lip, staring off to the side at the wooden floor.

  She pulled my hand, "Kit, tell me. Tell me what happened in San Diego."

  I felt the tears rise at how soft her voice was. She was always trying to take care of me when I needed to take care of her. Always caring for me and putting me first when she needed to be put first. I clutched her hand and the coffee cup, hoping an awkward silence would end the discussion and move it elsewhere, but she didn't bend, "I ran the sample you sent me. The DNA report and that man's file should be over on that desk." Claire looked to the desk, her brow furrowing when she saw it was gone.

  I squeezed her hand, "I found it when I woke up a little bit ago. Read it while I made coffee." I drifted off, the old familiar ache of hurt rushing back in my heart. An ache I had not felt since Callum. All coming back with the realization I had killed a man's wife to save another. Like I had killed the man I loved to save his brother.

  I felt Claire scoot closer to me, her hand moving to my back, "Kit."

  I looked up in her blue green eyes, the tears sliding down my face. I had no idea why I was reacting like I was. Jessica had tried to kill me, kill Claire, and yet I felt immense guilt now that I found out she was married to Benson. Maybe it was his strange way of forgiving me in that room then asking me to free him. Whatever it was, it overwhelmed me and I couldn't hold it in looking in the eyes of the woman I loved with everything I had. "The man in San Diego, he is, was Jessica's husband. Donald Benson. He gave me his DNA after I told him I killed her. He forgave me." I paused as the words caught in my throat. I shook my head, "No one has ever forgiven me..."

  I fell apart. No one had forgiven me for killing Callum or Robert. Now a man who had face far worse than I had and ever would, forgave me. It broke me and I couldn't stop the tears or the sobs. I felt the coffee cup I had a death grip on, pulled free and set on the side table. Then I was pulled into the strong arms of Claire, making me fall apart even more as I sobbed uncontrollably against her chest.

  She held me, running her hands over my hair and whispering words of comfort. I clutched to her like she was the only thing keeping me afloat, and she was. I buried my face in her shoulder as I sobbed, my past would always be right around the corner.

  What I didn't know was how close my past really was.

  Chapter 28

  Kit moved effortlessly through the small, cozy den of the cottage. She still carried an air of sadness and absorbing the weight that came with the freedom of forgiveness. Forgiveness the disfigured man in San Diego gave her. Forgiveness always weighed the heaviest when it lifted the most amount of weight from one.

  I had woken up before Kit after we both fell back to sleep when she passed out next to me after releasing the years of guilt she carried. Spending the last two hours reading over Benson's file, calling down to Rebecca to send me Jessica's files and do another round of digging to find any more connections she could. I wanted as much information as possible that might reveal the face of Alistair Montgomery. Kit had crept out of the bedroom much later, smiling softly as she set to making a fresh pot of coffee before starting the fire she was now managing.

  Kit was on her knees in front of the fireplace, stoking the fire she had built in the large stone hearth. I was curled up sitting on the floor, my back against the large leather couch, swathed in a heavy afghan. The files and DNA profile of Donald Benson meticulously laid out in front of me. Kit set the black iron poker to side in the rack. "Would it be terrible to ask for us to have a day off?" She brushed her hands off on her flannel pajama pants, pulling at the long sleeves of the thick blue sweater she wore, over her hands.

  I glanced at the large piles of papers neatly stacked on the floor and the coffee table before me. I had barely paid attention to what I read, absorbing nothing as my mind drifted to Beth and Kit. They both needed time to h
eal. I ran my fingers along the edges of the afghan, "I might be persuaded, yes." Kit smiled in my direction, walking to sit next to me on the couch as I began collecting the mass of paper information. "I would like to check on Beth first. See how she is doing post-surgery and how her parents are holding up."

  I sighed internally when Kit's hand grazed my cheek before tucking a few loose strands of hair back. A hint of guilt present as she spoke, "I never asked how the surgeries went."

  I shook my head, shoving DNA profiles and diagrams back into white folders, "It went beyond exceptional. Only one minor roadblock when I found cancerous polyps on her lung, removing them only added a few more hours to the entire operation. I hope Beth will be awake by this early afternoon and I can check her vitals. Her lung functions with her awake and see how she feels. If her breathing, sleeping, eating and just living in general, has improved." I picked up the large, neat stack and set it off to the side, leaning back against the couch, I looked up at Kit, "So, one stop to the Centre and then the day is all yours. I'm all yours."

  Kit's gentle smile moved into a sheepish grin, bending down to kiss me on the cheek. Murmuring against my skin, "And what is there to do in Geneva?"

  I could feel her warm breath mesh with her warm, soft lips. I had to close my eyes to resist physically suggesting we stay in bed all day with the redhead. "Hmmm. There's the Musee D'art ET D'histoire, The Barbier Mueller Museum. They currently have a nice Nordic Mask display. The Natural History Museum is a particular favorite of mine." I ran my hand around Kit's flannel covered calf, my resolve faltering more. "Or we can walk around the old town at the edge of this mountain. Shop, eat, drink and pretend to be jet setting tourists. Searching out the best Swiss chocolate and sparkling non-alcoholic wine." I leaned forward, resting my chin a top of Kit's thigh looking up at her. She was still grinning on the verge of laughing at me." I frowned a bit, "What?"

 

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