This is the place where fics that have not been updated in the past three months will be moved until the author asks a mod to move them back to an active board.
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell and Dark Angel belong to their respective creators, and I am not making any profit off them, or their ideas. This is purely for entertainment value and added posts on my account’s post counter,
Summary: Based on the Crossover Challenge #5 issued by Jezebel Jinx. Author’s Warning – while this is X-tremer, it starts off CC but I assure you, Liz/Alec all the way!
A/N: I couldn't resist this challenge, even though I'll be working on this story and my other one.[/b]
~~~ Chapter 1 ~~~
“Max…run!”
Breathing came in long, hurried draws and muscles strained as the blood pumping oxygen and adrenaline to tiring appendages came in quick bursts to the drumming of a heart beating an irregular staccato rhythm. Wind whistled at the speed of their passing, and the night air seemed to burn with each movement.
In his drugged and injured state, Max Evans followed his girlfriend’s instructions, never once hesitating to trust in her advice even amidst the crazy situation he’d found himself in. He was too weakened emotionally as well as physically by the drugs and torture to do more than obey.
I sound like Bambi’s freaking mother, Liz randomly thought, careening through the darkened countryside, keeping one ear open to Max’s progress and the other on their pursuers.
Even in the midst of being on the wrong end of a pursuit Liz felt the familiar thrill of the hunt. Hunted or hunter it was a feeling one could never forget and Liz had never felt so very much alive as in that moment.
She abruptly came to a halt, head snapping to the right as she picked up the second team homing in on their position. Liz had a split second to decide; stay and fight to ensure Max getting to safety or stay together and risk both of them getting caught in the middle of two teams of very irritable government spooks. It wasn’t really a decision for her, anyway.
Can’t let them get a hold of Max again.
He wouldn’t survive it.
But I can.
With that important detail in mind Liz turned her thoughts and body to more pleasant matters. Pleasant matters being the punishment of the G-men hit squads who made the very serious mistake of first making her worry by kidnapping her boyfriend and then pissing her off further by torturing him. Granted, Max was an alien hybrid engineered from the leftover essence of a dead king whose planet was now under civil war but that was no excuse. Liz was going to make sure they realized the consequences of their very bad choices.
A silent growl began deep within her belly and threatened to trickle out while it tickled the back of her throat, as Jondy shed her Perfect Lizzie Parker persona and welcomed the soldier X5-210 to the fore.
It was like coming home. She could try and deny it all she wanted, but Liz –Jondy- was and always would be the soldier, the hunter, and the predator. Jondy never stopped and wondered at the ease in which she slipped into her childhood role but took full advantage of her naturally unnatural abilities.
Time to play.
A few seconds later, the Special Unit’s lackeys erupted into the rock clearing and ran head on into a miniature hellion. They really had no idea what hit them, and later, all they would be able to recall would be vague outlines, dark hair, glowing amber orbs; but most importantly they would remember the silence.
Never once did their attacker utter a word or sound, only the rush of displaced air as she was there one moment and then gone, seeming to be attacking in multiple places at once. That was perhaps the most disturbing aspect of all, and many would have nightmares in the years to come of Death coming silently in a shadowed, petite form. She took them out with quiet ferocity and muted cries of rage coupled with an expressionless mask that hid everything and nothing.
As Darth Vader would say; ‘All too easy’, Jondy-Liz thought.
She snarled when she realized the steady whump-whump of a helicopter she’d been peripherally aware of was close. Too close for her liking, and as she prepared to flee, the entire area was bathed in a harsh, artificial luminosity from the helicopter’s mounted spotlight.
The momentary blindness as the powerful beam shown down was a few seconds enough. Liz had time only to whirl about to face the new threat only to meet the sharp prick of a dart. Everything inverted, or maybe she was the one turning upside down, before the numbness and the dark came to claim her.
Last edited by KiaraAlexisKlay on Sun Sep 28, 2008 10:41 pm, edited 23 times in total.
This chapter was inspired by a scene in Return of the Jedi, written, produced, directed, and created by George Lucas and ILM and whoever else.
It was on Endor, Luke and Leia had just been separated going after the scout troopers, and Luke came back to Han, Chewie, the droids, and other Rebel commandos without Leia. It’s almost word for word just so you know, and I take no credit, except to say it was one of my fave scenes.
Well, the whole beginning back at Jabba the Hutt’s palace and the sand barge, but that’s something different and off topic.
~~~ Chapter 2 ~~~
She wasn’t with him. She wasn’t with him.
She wasn’t with him.
Over and over, that phrase rolled around in his mind, as a very tired and battered and wet Max Evans limped his way into the relative safety of his best friend and second’s apartment home. What little peace he had garnered at the thought of rejoining his family was broken the moment he crossed Michael’s threshold.
“Where’s Liz?!” Maria DeLuca shrieked; pouncing on Max as soon as the seconds that passed and no Liz appeared behind the de facto leader of their mismatched group per usual.
“What, she isn’t here?” Max groaned as he collapsed onto Michael’s well-worn couch.
Despite his pain and weariness, he could only think, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t with him. Why wasn’t she here?
Michael’s apartment was the one of the only safe places any of them would gather in a crisis, and Liz would have known that, they would have set up it or another place as a rendezvous point.
Why wasn’t she here?
Isabel was by his side in a moment, searching her brother’s face and trying not to cry at the whelps and bruises marring his face and every bared inch of skin, the obvious reminder of the pain and torment he had undergone.
A shorter blond pushed Isabel aside, running her hands lightly up and down his arms, seeking his flesh and the reassurance of feeling him for himself personally, a worried gasping cry in Tess’s throat as she observed the extent of his injuries. Isabel wasn’t the only one glaring at the most recent addition to the I-know-or-am-an-alien Club. Maria was glowering hot and hard enough at the third blond she should have spontaneously combusted.
“I thought she was with you,” Michael growled, briefly allowing his worry and frustration to show.
He knew he shouldn’t have let Liz go off on by herself. But how was he going to stop her? When Parker got an idea in her mind, no one not even him or Maxwell or Alex and Maria could dissuade her, even if it was beneficial to her own safety. Especially if that idea had something to do with anything Maxwell was involved in.
The soldier he had once been sent warning bells off, not happy that now his so called ‘unit’ of people he swore to protect and look after was incomplete with Parker’s absence.
“We got separated. You mean she didn’t come back?” There was a note of panic and worry creeping into Max’s voice, growing more apparent by the time he’d finished speaking.
He sat up on the couch, shoving Tess’s hands off, and stood up with great effort.
Maria gasped at the news, nearly fainting and searching her pockets frantically for smelling oils; she needed some cypress now ! Alex paused in his pacing, and Tess made her features carefully neutral.
“I think we better go look for her,” Alex growled out, the suggestion coming off as the order it was, his good ole boy persona dropped at the danger to his friend could be in.
For once, no one disagreed with him.
The ball started rolling with a dull throbbing and it was a slippery slope from then on out. It progressed to a stabbing pain, followed by prickly needles of sensation shooting inward to wreak havoc on nerves in various portions of her person, and finally resulted in an overload of all the other systems to contort into one great, annoying bout of pain and nausea.
Liz was reluctant to open her eyes, but she did so anyway, quickly closing them and re-opening them in rapid succession to get used the glare that surrounded her. At first she thought she was staring directly at a naked light bulb, but further rapid blinking and squinting revealed she was in a white room identical to the one she had just busted her boyfriend out of. A blindingly, glaringly, exasperatingly white room.
Must have been an overstock of white gloss and they got a discount, Jondy-Liz mused through drugged thought processes.
Barbiturate, she recognized with disgust the sedative she’d been darted with. Fast working junk it was. Judging from personal experience with the wretched drug, and the amount of healing her aching body brought to her attention, she guessed she’d been out for about four hours, maybe more or maybe less, but not by much either way.
Oh, damn.
Liz’s eyes widened as they finally came into full focus. Every one of the forbidden ‘power words’ she ever heard the Manticore guards, trainers, and staff use flitted her mind in an instant, an impressive display for sure.
She was lying on her back in a semi reclined position, glancing up at a rather striking array of high powered surgical operating lights, but it was the surgical accoutrements that had her re-living every horror and bad memory of her childhood. The fact that she was strapped, buckled, harnessed, and all but hogtied to the stupid modern metal version of a medieval torture device eerily similar to a dentist chair that was even now giving her butt freeze.
Not good.
Jondy-Liz frantically tried to flex and test the ties that bound her, cursing her drugged state that left her vulnerable enough to be put in this position. Her inner soldier chided her after a few seconds worth of struggle, pointing out the obvious that she was a) too weak to attempt escape and b) she had been expecting the probability of capture in the first place so why panic?
As she listened to 210, Jondy-Liz felt herself calming down, knowing that it was useless at the moment. She still wasn’t looking forward to the obvious torture part that was sure to come; no one spent that amount of money on so many surgical steel implements and hi-definition lighting unless they were into torture, dentistry, or a really kinky kind of sex even she wouldn’t get near.
“She’s awake now, sir!”
“Why don’t you say that louder, I don’t think the little green men on Mars with their telescopes and antennae could hear that,” Liz grit out to the guard she hadn’t heard or felt in her drugged state.
Her head pulsed at the sudden noise and she wished so much for silence, for the soothing peace of the desert, and her bed with her secretly hidden baby blanket so soft and blue and fuzzy.
Why did the jerk have to be standing so close to her ear when he sound off?
With one eye shut she met his baleful stare with a sideways glare of her own, mentally promising him all sorts of dire and painful retribution once she was released.
The two were drawn from their staring match by an unamused chuckle, and Liz opened both eyes to confront the newest bad guy in her life. Surprisingly, or not so considering what team had captured her, her current bad guy was still the recent bad guy, and four hours had not changed that in any way. The United States Government’s Federal Bureau of Investigation’s very own Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit, Special Agent Daniel Pierce.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
“Truly? I thought I fell asleep watching re-runs of The Twilight Zone and this is the resulting nightmare. My bad.”
Pierce merely smiled at her bravado, effectively hiding the surprise he shared with the staff doctors and medics that she had awoken so early. Awakened, and was strong enough to banter witty repartee. In all the time Topolsky had spent observing Evans and his ‘crew’, she had never written anything in her reports to expect the Parker girl to have put up such a brave front. He himself had expected her to wake up –albeit later- and panic and be such a quivering mass of fear that information about her boyfriend could be extracted fairly easily.
Instead, she was loosing an amazing display of strength and snarky one-liners with a curious alien theme. Was it a slip up on her part or a conscious put down on them?
“No, my dear…our bad. The Twilight Zone ? I was thinking more along the lines of Scream .”
Liz’s eyes flickered behind his back at the stream of incoming white garbed medical personnel for government sanctioned torture, and she felt the familiar rush of blind fear and hatred. She knew these types very well from her time at home sweet Manticore home.
So…Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit wanted her to scream huh? Well, it was time to disappoint, something she was very good at.
Hey, y'all I'm back! I've been busy editing parts of this story and my other fic, Da Man N His Woman. So far on this, I have at least four more chapters prepared, and I promise, Alec will be making his debut....very soon, *insert evil laugh*
So...enjoy this part (yes, it is short) and thank you to all who reviewed!
~~~
Chapter 3
~~~
Liz’s days progressed in a very similar and predictable pattern. She would be poked, prodded, sliced, drawn, fondled, and manhandled throughout the day, and that was just the hours with the torturers, oh excuse her, doctors .
The time she spent with Agent Pierce were almost up there with that of Psy Ops, but fortunately for her, Psy Ops and Lydecker had come first so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She didn’t break, she could thank Lydecker’s Manticore training for that, and that was the important thing.
Currently she was back in the butt freeze dentist chair, something Liz was sure a new form of torture designed to slowly freeze off the hindquarters of the victims, therefore rendering unlucky said recipients incapable of escape. She gritted her teeth as yet again another Dr. Mengala inspired test ‘required’ another blood sample, for the umpteenth time.
Liz counted it lucky that she possessed the ability to survive on less blood pressure than Ordinaries, otherwise she would have passed out again simply from blood loss as many times they drew blood. Each day that passed and no rescue from either the Pod Squad or by some slim miracle one of her ‘brothers and sisters’ she escaped with, Liz Parker and even Jondy was pushed further and further in the background as X5-210 took over and went into deep cover survival mode.
210 was looking forward to the moment she would escape, and then she would unleash her skills and not stop until she had completed a thorough scorched earth policy, with all hands perishing. Let the brass get all ‘plausible deniability’ on that .
Through it all, Pierce had watched and observed, taunted and ranted, threatened and raved, just as 210 had calculated he would. She hadn’t said one word or made another sound or snide remark since their first ‘conversation’ that first morning. The team of doctors and their assorted nurses and assistants still hadn’t gotten over how creepy it was she never said anything, even when she had to obviously be in pain over some of the things they did to her.
“That’s enough for today!”
Pierce’s voice made the doctors and nurses jump; hours spent around their silent patient had trained them to whisper their demands, hardly making any comments, and so the sudden reverberation was enough to cause mild heart palpitations.
The head doctor looked about to protest but then rethought it, motioning toward his colleagues to hurry up and leave. His last glimpse of their specimen was of her calmly holding the Agent’s gaze before the doors shut and blocked his view.
He could test her all he wanted, try to intimidate and wear her down, but even being so called helpless, she wouldn’t cave in.
He will have to come up with something worse if he wanted us to scream, 210 noted, assessing the older man’s rising agitation and irritability.
“Tell me what I want to know!” he unexpectedly thundered, but 210 merely arched a brow, unmoved. She’d expected this.
Such a little movement spoke volumes: derision, sarcasm, amusement, and boredom. All these things Pierce couldn’t take and he gave a very unprofessional roar of rage.
Target is rapidly loosing professional demeanor and morals. Objective nearing completion. C’mon, Danny boy, I’ve been through worse and survived. Bring it on.
“You. Will. Tell. Me…NOW!” Pierce withdrew his firearm from the shoulder holster and pointed it directly at her.
The sound of handgun cocking was astonishingly loud in the stillness and 210 took a deep breath to steady her slightly pounding heart.
Easy, 210, easy. All part of the plan, remember? You’re a soldier; you won’t break, not even until death.
~~~ Okay….next chapter is up! Alec will be making his debut in a three more chapters, hang tight! Just have to get a few more things out of the way and then we’re set for some great X-tremer ness!
To those who reviewed:
Taniapretender: Thank you for pointing out the Dr. Mengele typo to me. German’s not my language, English is, and it was only briefly that I saw the guy’s name spelled at all and I wasn’t sure if it was ‘e’ or ‘a’. Now I do!
And to answer your ‘tough and unbreakable Liz’ remark: I personally think that Liz being X5 would be used to such torture Pierce would dish out as he’d never a) dealt with a transgenic before b) know how much one could take. I think it would be easier for Liz as X5 who was trained to resist torture that the S.U. would do. Manticore on the other hand will have a lot more experience and know how in making Liz suffer…so expect the stonewall to crack! WomanofMystery: glad you love this! I alwaysfigured most if not all transgenics become so smart alecky, like a defense mechanism. I also thought the whole silence bit would be creepy: I mean come on, the whole screaming during torture thing was so overdone and overrated. I admit some of her tough chic is based off of Max(ie) 452 since they were so close as kids, but I also wanted to make her individual enough. Maxie is very vocal and bitchy and so I put Liz opposite, intense, quiet bitch. Basically a Max with control. PolarVixen: Thank you! Jensen Lover 37: I’m glad you like. Loving the avatar and screenname. Yeah, Pierce is arrogant but can you blame him? Max(well) a supposedly ‘superior’ lifeform was so…easy to break. Why wouldn’t he believe ‘Liz’ wouldn’t be as well? Alec is coming…. Amelia ROFLMAO. The Pod Squad might be coming in at a later date, maybe, maybe not. I want to get to Alec and fun X-tremerness before I bring back any otherworldly characters. They may make cameos, I’m not certain. My muse Jareth is pretty finicky. Glad you like the no freak Liz. Queen Fee: I’m thrilled you like my story so much. I like your stories a lot too, lol. Glad you’re loving this. orphyphets: LOL. Well, I’m back! shiri&jensen4ever: I love cliffhangers (when I write them not read em, lol) and it’s no crueler than any of the others, :p Which Max are you talking about her being a match for? Max(well) or Max(ie)? I’m glad you liked that quote though I have to say my fave is the whole ‘butt freeze chair’. Ellie: Like the contrast, so do I! Jondy and 210 are exactly alike, one would never have existed without the other. And both made ‘Liz’ who she was. But when the going gets rough, she’ll revert back to her roots, because no matter what, she’ll always have been Jondy 210. Jamy21: I’m so glad you like tough Liz…and Alec will be making an appearance soon…definitely three chapters away for sure! aussietrueblue: Oh, most definitely. What’s X-tremer without the xtreme hottie? bluebear01: well…it was kinda easy. Just found the best place in the entire chapter and split it. Don’t have a heart attack, you need to stick around long enough to read the rest of the story! Kitten: I'm back! JezebelJinx: I’m so glad you like it! Love to irritate Pierce, hehe. Since you came up with the challenge, you’re appreciation and support of this means so much! I only hope that I keep true to the nature of the story you intended. This never would have got so far without your influence. And shamelessly I’ll beg: I need more of your stories! All of them, lol.
~~~
Chapter 3b
~~~
Dr. David Gillette scowled as the readouts for the blood test scrolled across the screen. For the eighteenth time in less than that many days, the data showed the same as the previous seventeen tests.
“This can’t be right!” the aging scientist frowned hard, leaving deeper furrows on his thick brow.
“What is it?” Larissa Snowden questioned her supervisor, bringing in more samples from their newest subject.
“The readings from the blood tests.”
“What’s the matter with them?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Gillette rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.
“Are they showing up the same as the last ones? What’s the matter with them?”
Snowden left her tray of samples safely on the counter and came over to look over the elder scientists’ shoulder at the lines of coding appearing on the graph paper.
“They must have been contaminated somehow during transition…”
“What?” Snowden took offense. “ Impossible! All those samples came directly to lab after being pulled.”
She knew for a fact that nothing had messed with the samples. She herself had taken them and made sure they went from the sample tray to Dr. Gillette’s hands, who personally had placed them in the centrifuge and D.N.A. scanner.
“Then how do you explain there being feline, cetacean, carcharodon, and smatterings of various other animals entwined directly within her genetic structure ? Or about the overabundance of stem cells and no sign of any recent sexual intercourse or having ever been pregnant?”
“Wha-? Feline and…” Snowden frowned as she tried to translate the list of scientific names in order. She dealt with Homo sapiens most of the time so they didn’t come easy.
“Cat, orca, shark,” Gillette snapped impatiently, waving a hand at the graph. “Look here: traces of hyena, hawk, and bat. Bat! Not to mention something really interesting. Remember this?”
Snowden looked down and she gasped.
“Is that the D.N.A. echoes for Cadmium X? So she was what…touched by an alien? Cause that looks like it has been introduced into her system and fairly recently at that.”
“Really?” Gillette snorted sarcastically. Who was the experienced researcher and who was the intern?
“Cat…bat…shark? Cadmium. How?” Snowden effectively ignored the sarcasm tossed her way in favor of the fascinating reading in front of her. This could be the research opportunity of a lifetime!
“That my dear, almost Doctor, is what we need to find out. C’mon.”
“Where we going?” Larissa stepped back from the graph reluctantly and followed her mentor out.
“I have to tell Agent Pierce this latest find before he shoots our specimen.”
The two rushed out of the lab, not even glancing at the unassuming figure just now coming in. The jolly balding and chubby tech in a janitor’s uniform pushed his cart of cleaning supplies into the room, and waved cheerily to the two as they left, who paid him no attention.
The smile stayed in place until they disappeared down the hall and the camera had turned away and then it was gone like it had never been there. Quickly he stepped further into the room, shutting the blinds and the door, and headed over to the papers spread across the desk.
Eyes scanning across the pages, they widened as they recognized the D.N.A. mockup, knowing this was the reason for his even being here. The man brought a small iPod like device out of his pocket and started snapping photos of the papers, even as he cursed the rogue operative for making this necessary, keeping one ear out for any sounds of the doctors’ return.
Once he was finished he made sure to set them back the way he had found them, and as he was turning to go back to his ‘official’ duties he spied the fresh blood samples.
Glancing around, he subtly switched one of the vials with a similar one, this one filled with a red gelatin like substance that mimicked the blood it wasn’t. Satisfied, he went back to his work.
Yes....I'm back! I've really been struggling with this chapter because the chapter I introduce Alec in didn't really turn out the way I liked once I went over it so I had to rewrite it and that caused me to have to rewrite a whole bunch other chapters....blah blah woof woof. Anyway, I'll probably be looking for a beta since Chapter 6 (and consequently Alec entering the fray) isn't coming out the way I had planned.
But....I promised Queen Fee I'd post a chapter in honor of her, so here it is!
~~~
Chapter 4
~~~
Colonel Donald Michael Lydecker was in the middle of his second mug of coffee and doing his best not to place a bullet in Madam Director Elizabeth Renfro’s head. It would be so easy, so unexpected, and that was the beauty of it all. But that was also the biggest reason for Lydecker not to off her. He truly abhorred taking the easy way in anything; it was something he despised. He discouraged it in those under his command and he would not allow himself to do something he was so against. Not that anyone would really mind her sudden departure from the land of the living, but the paperwork a review by the Council that was sure to follow would almost outweigh the reasons for executing her. Almost.
If he were a gambling man then Lydecker would bet that should he make mention of a need for disposing of one Madam Director, the volunteer list of any available X series or transhuman would be overwhelming. And he was positive that no one would be able to find a trace of the Madam Director for a very long time, if at all.
He did not appreciate the woman or any of the numerous reasons accompanying her promotion to Manticore’s Director of Operations. The first, logically and obviously, being she took over a position that was rightfully his. The second, and possibly as important, was her continued interference in her capacity as his superior to his search to identify the whereabouts and retrieval of his kids, whether drugged up or in a body bag.
Three out of thirteen, though officially it was twelve, escapees in ten years. The oldest 599, Zack, had been almost thirteen and the youngest, 392 – Kavi- only seven. Two fatalities during capture and one who would probably never get to see active duty because the Lady Director was afraid he’d turn rogue again. Poor kid would probably never get out of Psy-Ops and re-indoc. Waste of a good resource.
So it was with a great deal of carefully concealed amusement and satisfaction that he swiftly made his apologies and exited the impromptu meeting to attend what his assistant stated as ‘an urgent matter.’ The petty part of him that normally was suppressed wished for a moment to have a picture of the annoyed surprise and indignation on the fake blondes face.
“What’s this about, Commander?” the Colonel questioned as soon as he was within earshot of the command station located in a secluded area away from normal traffic with a clear view of any approach.
“Colonel Lydecker, sir! One of our operatives on the inside of the FBI has a report I think you should see, sir.”
“Really?”
The gathered operatives held a collective breath as Lydecker’s brow furrowed while he read. That small action could mean any of several things: concentration, disappointment, irritability, anger, or frustration. Any one of those responses was something to be leery of where it concerned Donald Lydecker.
“Is this information accurate?” he finally broke the silence. “Which area of the FBI is this operative of ours working in?”
“Sir, yes, sir! The information is highly accurate, just received, confirmed, and analyzed today. Our operative is one of Madam Director Renfro’s agents assigned as handler to a soldier from the X5 series, both of whom are currently observing the operations of the so-called ‘Special Unit’. Sir!”
“The Special Unit?” Lydecker cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
“Some unit. The Special Unit’s mission is to ‘search, identify, and explore extraterrestrial and human relations against probability of invasion’. What a rip off, getting sent on a bug hunt,” one of the lieutenants snorted in derision.
“Mr. Adams, you work with living, biological weapons that as far as the world knows modern science says should not be possible at this point in history. Where do you think we got the technology and understanding for this operation in the first place?”
With that food for thought, Lydecker left an open mouthed lieutenant gaping after him, and strode down the hall. The Commander tagged along after his Colonel and without turning around Lydecker spoke.
“Prep Alpha Unit for immediate mobilization. We leave now.”
Here I come with another Update! Woo-hoo! This one's kind of long so hopefully it'll make up for the lack.
Ellie wrote:
Man Kristin, that was mean to tease us like that right after you tell us it'll be a few more days 'til we see another chapter.*pouts* I want sexy Alec now!
Oh well, if I gotta wait then I'll wait, but as you can see I'm not gonna do it quietly. Thanks for letting us know how things are going and good luck with your rewrite.
-Ellie
ROFLMAO. That just made a hellish day so much better. Just wanted y'all to know, I almost died today. Scared the shit outta me. I was trying to merge from another highway onto it's connnecting one when the assholes in trucks in front of me (who had almost cause accidents already cause they were racing each other and brake checking and all that nasty road rage crap) and the lead truck started slowing and speeding alternately and the rear truck kept trying to pass and both were weaving left and right and then the lead truck stopped, right as we were merging!
I had to put my brakes on and thank God for the Holy Spirit cause something warned me to jink to the right just as a red semi almost clipped me. Had I tried to complete my merge I would have been hit head on by almost 5 tons of mean, diseal driven truck. Even now, like four or five hours later (thank God I made the last twenty miles home relatively safely...I was shaking the whole way home) I can steel see the red blur out of the corner of my eye. *shudders*
And that was the topping of the worst driving day of my life. I broke out in hives when I got home, and even now, I feel like retching and I want to cry and break down (obviously I haven't) but I can't seem to, it's like there's this block there that's keeping me from doing so. I think it's shock. I dunno. But whatever it is, I really need to cry, and since I'm not, I have this major headache. So Ellie...you're comment was a bright spot on an otherwise hellish ordeal. So thank you.
Oh, and on a lighter note, I bought the newly released Evanescence album that's an actual album, not a live version with like, one new song a piece. I don't get live versions. Why waste good money on songs you already heard and know? Isn't the point of a quote unquote new album to listen to new songs, not remixed or poorly recorded songs? Okay, okay, enough with the ranting!
Please enjoy the story and as alway, feedback is appreciated.
Semper Fidelis,
~Kristin
~~~
Chapter 5
~~~
Seven, silent figures waited stiffly in a perfect line, none moving as a group of higher ups approached the assembled soldiers. The soldiers were dressed in black ops tactical fatigues, and there was the barest thrum of energy about them as they awaited some action.
“You can’t take the best soldiers Manticore has left to go on a ghost hunt for your missing ‘kids’ ,” Renfro stalked after Lydecker, her heels making angry clicks as she hurriedly tried to keep up.
Lydecker didn’t even pause his long strides, pleased to ignore the icy gaze tinged with the heat of her ire.
“She does have a point Deck,” Special Agent Peter Sandoval felt the need to bring up in his Director’s defense. “Alpha Unit is our premier unit and the majority of them are currently out on missions. Why do you need to take the rest of them?”
The seven quietly stood, giving no indication they were even aware anyone else was in the motor transport bay. Seven stiff soldiers at complete attention.
“Director Renfro, we have a confirmed sighting by a trusted, reliable source; one of our own operatives you yourself assigned. According to the report given by this handler, there is a rogue X5 being contained by another branch of our government.”
“You understand as well as I the importance of keeping the Manticore project under containment, even from the rest of our government, and you can well imagine the reactions the FBI will have when they discover this X5 is in fact made in the USA and not outer space as they thought. Those are standing orders that supercede even your disdain and authority for wasting Manticore resources on a ‘ghost hunt’.”
Lydecker allowed a smile of his own loose that wiped any leverage the other two had on him. It was a predator’s smile; one that was assured of his target objective no matter what obstacles had been sprung at him. That same look was eerily similar to the ones the soldiers they themselves sported as they were about to complete a mission, possibly a learned behavior. Whatever it was, the effect was the same: unnerving and unnatural.
With a wave of his hand, Lydecker simultaneously summoned his soldiers into action and dismissed the fuming Director and her lackey. They piled into the waiting windowless van and took off.
Renfro seethed with inner fury, not only at the coup but also at the obvious eagerness into which the soldiers obeyed the silent order. She was unreasonably jealous that these soldiers gave to Lydecker the instant fear, respect, awe, and obedience that they never displayed for her Granted, he was their Colonel and instrumental in their training, but it was she who was now the Director, and should be accorded the same level and intensity and instant response. They feared her yes, but for her punishments, not personally like Lydecker.
Well…she would just have to satisfy herself in the fact that when Deck brought his precious ‘kid’ back, that rogue was hers.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
~~~
This is just great. I get stuck baby-sitting the traitor, and the clone, the tech sighed mentally, looking at the man in front of him.
The silent figure had just received word from his handler that his orders were changed. He was to secure the rogue X5 and wait while the retrieval team came, with Lydecker, and…took care of the Special Unit. After purging the FBI of any information they had on the rogue and other interesting subjects. He was also to provide back up in the event that Lydecker did not reach them on time and convince the feds to do this the easy way.
Three years undercover all blown by a damned 09er. Story of my life.
“You have your orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll create the distraction; you get the target.”
"That's right. Now, go on, get out!"
"Yes, sir!"
The tech dismissed his subordinate and didn't hear the man leave. He was startled to find he was alone in the conference room and he hadn't even heard the door shut. He shuddered. That was just creepy.
Slipping inside a darkened room he knew wouldn’t be used, much less occupied, for any length of time in the near future the second man quietly shut the door. Turning around without a care for it being pitch dark, he located the ventilation shaft, and with amazing suppleness wiggled in and started crawling. Intimate knowledge hard earned from hours spent cleaning up the place paid off; it wasn’t any time at all before he had reached his objective.
There was a decent sized grate right in front of him and he paused as he heard voices. Cursing the luck of the universe, he settled in for a wait, and possibly gather more pertinent information as well.
“She’s not an alien, that’s for sure.”
No duh, dummy. The DCO (deep cover operative) rolled his eyes but stayed quiet, waiting for the signal.
“What?” Pierce snarled and Dr. Gillette flinched. He’d rather deal with Agent Stevens any day; Pierce scared him more than Stevens ever did.
“She’s not an extraterr-”
Pierce cut him off and Gillette snapped his mouth shut.
“I know what an alien is! I just don’t know what she is!”
There was silence for a moment and then Pierce rolled his eyes, sighed, and all but growled, “Well? Tell me what she is!”
“Yes, tell him what I am,” a tired sounding voice rasped, taunting, and despite it’s nonuse the past several weeks the sarcasm carried through.
Neither man were surprised at the fact she was awake so soon after being injected with the cocktail of drugs utilized to knock her out. They were fairly used to her rapid recovery by now. It was her actually speaking that knocked them for a loop.
In the vents overhead the DCO’s head snapped quickly in her direction, eyes widening. That voice. He knew that voice. How could he ever forget it? It was her ! He couldn’t believe what kismet, or fate, had brought him today. He was supposed to look after her ?
This mission just went several ways FUBAR.
Dr. Gillette scowled over at the petite brunette who merely regarded him under coolly hooded eyes. It was freaky to say the least, her gaze was predatory, and he was quickly reminded of what exactly she was made of. Four kinds of very large felines, hyena, shark, bat, and hawk just to name a few. Each and every one of them a hunter of some sort.
The girl, who’d refused to divulge anything much less make a sound, was amazingly resilient and it took quite a mix of drugs to put her down for any significant length of time. Her metabolism burned through the medications mere hours after injection as opposed to the day or days they should have taken. What burned Pierce’s goat, and therefore intrigued him as well, was her seeming unfazed attitude toward the whole torture and experimentation thus far.
“You can save us the trouble and tell us yourself,” the doctor snapped, more from nervousness than anything.
Pierce quirked an eyebrow; funnily enough their captive mirrored his exact expression at the exact moment. They both shot him expectant looks that were so similar that Gillette shook his head to clear it.
Liz hadn’t taken to the older researcher at all. She’d have hated him on principle anyway just because of his name; too many bad memories associated with the name Gillette for her to ever be comfortable with him even had she been so inclined.
So she had quietly menaced the scientist, terrorizing him and his staff with blatant predatory stares, making them as uncomfortable as she was.
Her smirk through out the torture sessions with Pierce, as if she had the upper hand or a track on some inside joke she wouldn’t share, were more than unnerving they were downright petrifying. No person in his or her right mind, human, alien, or otherwise, could ever be so casual about torture. No one.
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” she practically purred, rusty voice lending a huskiness and sensuality to an otherwise snarky remark. She had her head cocked, peering up at her captors under a curtain of silky hair, as innocent looking as Baby Cupid’s bare butt.
Innocent, yeah right, the unseen visitor grimaced, but peered intently at the unfolding drama, studying her . He was waiting for the opportune moment.
“Don’t sit there looking innocent,” Pierce barked out, finally able to vent now that his captive had finally spoken. “You single handedly took down special and black ops trained TAC personnel, broke out my previous White Room occupant, erased and/or destroyed every last shred of data and evidence we had gleaned from said tenant, and just plain pissed me off. I wouldn’t call that innocent .”
“Indeed. Why would the term co-operation be instilled in your vocabulary, much less assimilated into your psyche,” Gillette shook his head, venting a little of his own.
“Doctor,” Pierce growled out, blue eyes snapping his ire. “You are arguing with a sixteen year old child .”
“He must have caught it from someone,” 210 remarked dryly, some of Jondy slinking back now that it was play time all over. The vent spectator silently agreed with 210’s assessment.
“You were saying?” Gillette gave his ranking superior a significant pleading gaze, cutting in before Pierce could articulate the growing fury on his face.
“I was saying ,” Pierce began, taking a moment to compose himself. He seemed to do that a lot here lately with this annoying child, and he was tired of it.
He settled for a death glare in the brat’s direction.
Jondy blew him a kiss from her dry, cracked lips enjoying seeing both men blink. She’d laugh if it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“I was saying, tell me what in the Blessed Lady’s name is she? Aside from the world’s most annoying headache?”
“Love you too, Piercey,” Liz huffed and rolled her eyes.
Geeze, she let 210 take control for a while and suddenly it was almost impossible to remember Perfect Lizzie Parker when smart-alecky Jondy was closer connected to the soldier and easier to revert back to. 210 and Jondy were one and the same, two sides of the same coin, but it was also proof that smart mouthing was a sort of defense, something the soldier understood and utilized perfectly.
The part of her that was Jondy thrived on the sarcastic rejoinders, and with messing with the Ordinaries’ minds and emotions. Hence the reason why her Lizzie Parker persona was so effective a cover for anyone who knew her, had known her, before she’d seemingly dropped off the face of the Earth.
Besides, she was stuck here against her will, tortured, and experimented on, and had to experience the butt freeze chair. Most definitely factor in the butt freeze chair. They had to pay if only for that. She figured messing with the Ordinaries was a small price to pay for what they owed her.
By now, her parents would have had to be worried sick, if they didn’t think that Manticore hadn’t already taken her. Which could be true, if the FBI didn’t kill her soon, she acknowledged. Her parents had known for about three years now what she was, and why she had been hiding from them. After all, it wasn’t everyday the daughter they’d raised and adopted as their own out of the blue started to hit on and grope the man who was considered her father for the past seven years.
Yeah, that had been fun, going into heat for the first time and finding out about it the hard way with the first unlucky recipient being Jeffrey Parker. That was not on Jondy-Liz’s best memory list, it was up there on the Use-Lydecker’s-Forgetting-Technique list.
Alex, Kyle, and Maria had been recent additions to her I-Know-Or-Am-A-Transgenic Club , and it had been rough going with their friendships for a brief moment, what with all that had happened with Max and the Pod Squad. Oh, Blue Lady, Max!
Liz’s heart clenched, but it wasn’t as suffocating as she had thought it would be.
Because let’s face it soldier. Things between you and Max were always awkward and strained, good but unrealistic to begin with. C’mon he’s an alien with a wandering, interested eye toward his past life’s wife, the World’s Biggest Blonde Alien Floozy. Okay, okay, so maybe she wouldn’t be so bad if you gave her a chance; but it still hurt. And you’re just a genetically engineered supersoldier whose luck finally ran out.
Liz sighed again and looked heavenward.
But you can do this. Torture and experimentation is nothing you hadn’t handled before. Sure, you’ve garnered a helluva lot of homicidal and maniacal feelings to and from everyone in the facility, but hey, a girl’s got to have something to look forward to after busting out.
She was brought out of her musings by the shushed conversation the Dipstick Duo were trying to have, thinking they were safe on the other side of the room, with lowered voices. Hey, she wasn’t about to let them know she could hear them as if they were right next to her.
“I don’t know if this is even possible, I mean she shouldn’t even exist! Her D.N.A. is spliced with at least eight different donors over a human D.N.A. base.”
“In English, Doc?”
“She has animal D.N.A. mixed with human.”
“Animal mixed with human as opposed to alien mixed with human? Just to clarify, Doctor.”
“Yes, yes, it shouldn’t even be possible! That kind of genetic manipulation and splicing is far beyond the sciences we have now! She shouldn’t even be existing much less probable for at least a hundred more years with the technology available to us today!”
“Well, neither should aliens but we had one here with us until little miss I love an alien here busted him out. Now, you didn’t tell me what I needed to know…what is she?”
Whew! Finally! And I know I said Alec would be in this chapter but…he’s not. But don’t fret! All part of the plan! You can blame my beta, who will not be named, for this but not to fret. There is an unexpected twist you’ll have to see to enjoy.
Thank you to all who had reviewed and left feedback. I truly appreciate it and I am so sorry for your wait. A mix of real life, a computer virus, and a distracted foray into the world of Firefly and [/i]Serenity[/i] while my computer was being fixed was the cause.
Really, no excuse, but this one’s forQueen FeeandRiaRath101for different reasons. Fee because she just updated her Supernatural crossover after a hiatus almost as long and depressing as mine, and because she always pm’s me to make sure I haven’t forgot about you or the story. As if I can forget a good dose of almost at the X-tremer part. To RiaRath101 because she keeps emailing and pm-ing me even if it’s not about Roswell or our stories, just to make sure I’m alive, lol.
So to you two, this is what you get. Now I have to figure out how to get RiaRath101 to actually read this!
Enjoy!
~~~
Chapter 6
~~~
Jondy-Liz’s head snapped upwards and her face paled. She knew that voice but for the moment she couldn’t think where exactly she’d heard it. She shook her head, trying to clear the last of the drugs, but they stubbornly clung to her perception. The scientists had been getting better at finding things to put in the tranqs that would at least stick around to disorient her for longer than what they should have normally.
Where had she heard that voice?
What emerged from the shadows wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Let’s face it, if you saw a guy dressed in a one piece jumpsuit the color of the purple Telletubby’s outfit, with hardly any hair, and more fat rolls on him than Big Bertha come to land in front of you, what would you think?
Obviously she was on the same brainwave Pierce and Gillette were, which was a scary thought, considering. Pierce looked disbelieving and Gillette just dumbfounded. Piece’s look turned into a sneer as he took in the, ahem, apparent look of his ‘opponent’ and laughed.
As he started walking toward the unwanted visitor and the chubby tech started moving, Liz’s eyes narrowed. Jondy jerked to attention and 210 went into red alert as that something niggled through her drug-induced haze.
~~~
Gillette, Wyoming
Spring 2004
The children were silent as was expected of them, an entire squad’s worth of unnervingly subdued four to seven year old little people. They were dressed in fatigues sized to their child’s bodies, and would have been cute, excepting for the fact that they were the most solemn looking bunch of five to seven year olds ever. Also not very reassuring was that all twenty-one remaining children of a unit originally comprised of thirty-two were holding very competitively the extremely lethal M-16s.
Staff Sergeant Trevor Ingram shook his head and held back his shudders as he stepped up to his charges, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the observatory tower where Colonel Donald M. Lydecker would be to oversee his handling of Manticore’s Gillette, Wyoming Facility’s Unit 2.
“Unit 2 – Roll. Call!” he thundered. “Commanding Officer: X5-599!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
~~~
“Oh, my God, it’s you ,” Liz’s eyes widened in recognition. Oh, no, this was not good. Oh, no, oh no indeed.
“Who?” Pierce was momentarily distracted even though he never took his eyes off the tech in front of him.
A gun seemed to magically materialize from within the folds of skin and clothing to point at the two men.
“Like I said earlier, it’s none of your business,” Trevor Ingram, now eleven years older, motioned to the two men raise their hands. “Isn’t that right, 210?” he called over his shoulder, eyeballing his prisoners, Pierce especially.
“You sure let yourself go,” she commented instead, ignoring his use of her designation.
A few more motions and then Ingram had Gillette come over and take one of the zip ties and bind Pierce against a pipe that jutted from the wall.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Pierce snarled as Ingram made sure Pierce was secured and then did the same to Gillette, who whimpered as the hard plastic tightened across his wrists.
“How cliché,” Ingram smirked. Satisfied with his work, he patted both men down and came back with two extra firearms courtesy of Pierce, two switchblades that were illegal as they popped straight out of the hilt, and a few medical instruments frisked off the good doctor.
Then he turned his attention back to Jondy-Liz and she eyed her former Senior Trainer with a mix of suspicion, wariness, and no small amount of dislike. This was the man who would yell, “Eyes front!” at them when his lackeys would drag one of her siblings away, some never to return. This was the man who wouldn’t let them see to Jack; the man who tried to take sister Maxie to the Bad Place the night of The Escape. This was the man who helped hunt and kill seven of her siblings during that night, personally shooting four and releasing the dogs on the rest, and captured by way of serious, life-threatening wounds three others while the remaining twelve made their way Out.
“Hello, 210. Remember me?”
“Does ‘Daddy’ know you’ve let yourself get this bad or is he keeping you one for sentimental value?” Jondy-Liz eyed Manticore’s metaphorical Rottweiller.
A snort was her only reply and then the tech raised his hand to his neck, scratched a little, and then started to peel the skin back. It was kind of disgusting to watch, especially after having seen the Skins pull similar actions, but this was no Skin. Chubby cheeks and flabby jowls soon became firm, almost youthful perfection.
A blink and the brown contacts soon became the color of washed out denim. Another quick flick and the ‘baldness’ was torn away with the rest of the mask, unveiling a mass of sweaty, dirty blond hair that was less full than eleven years ago but still all there, slicked back and sticking up in small tufts with their release.
One hand, nearly covered to the fingers in thick, wiry hair, reached up and started to undo the zipper on his jump suit. Liz kept her face as impassive as possible, knowing what was underneath that suit better than she should have.
Pale eyes mocked and challenged her to watch and Liz fell back into her usual silence to do as he silently commanded. He took his time unzipping, drawing the moment out and Liz would have rolled her eyes had she not wanted to watch the show. He took off the garment down to his waist and then let the top hang. A bulging belly of cosmetic stuff was attached by some kind of harness to him; why it was all the better to fool people with thinking it was actual fat.
A shrug of the shoulder and one strap slipped down his arm and finally released, the other arm quickly following suit. Those arms reached back and unsecured the final strap and the whole contraption, fake gut and rolls came off to land at his feet. Those hands came to hold the rest of the jump suit at the waist, and oh so slowly, started to drag it off his hips. Senior Trainer Ingram had always been one for the dramatic.
Liz was struck with a sudden visual of another striptease from a different man.
~~~
‘C’mere,’ he had growled just before possessing her lips, and she had wantonly given in to him.
Their tongues dueled for dominance and then she pulled back, laughing and slapping the side of his face, raking her fingers on the way down, to grasp his chin.
She wasn’t about to make this easy for him. As much as she wanted him to fill her up and take care of the need, she also needed something more. Gentleness and whispered words of wooing were not on the menu for tonight. Tonight Ms Kitty wanted to play and all claws were unsheathed.
He hissed at the sharp surprise of the slap and nearly moaned as her nails dug into the skin sensitized by the sting. Her tongue was suddenly there to lick the rest of the hurt away, using her grip on his chin for leverage, and it brought her neck in close proximity.
Turnabout is fair play.
She shrieked as his teeth latched onto the side of her throat, turning into a throaty groan of pleasure against his ear as the blunt ends tightened almost enough to pierce her skin but never drew blood. His tongue was at work also, suckling the small area of skin his teeth encased, drawing the skin in his mouth and working it hard enough so he knew she would bear his mark in the morning. The thought pleased him so much he growled again, the vibrations at her throat almost too much.
She tried to pull away but his grip on her neck prevented that, and one strong hand grasped the side of her waist and flung her into a shadowy recess. The bar’s night was in full swing, the band and patrons were loud, and this area was hardly used except for this explicit purpose. It was perfect and everything they wanted.
Her back collided almost abusively harsh against the slightly unyielding plaster of the wall, and her eyes widened in pleasure as he casually leaned against the doorway drinking in splayed against the wall, waiting for him. His hazel eyes had drowned almost jaded amber, a look so raw and primitive she felt her own beast rise up from it’s shackles named civilization to meet his.
With a smirk and flick of his tongue across kissable lips, he brought his hands up to buttons of his shirt, undoing them one at a slowly and torturous time until he reached where the shirt was married to his pants.
She snarled her impatience and he crooned back, shrugging one arm slowly, teasingly at a time out of the fibrous confines that had hidden what she wanted from view. Each sleeve caressing silken muscle as he glided toward her. It was only a few steps but it felt like continents away for her taste. He let it fall, still tucked in, around his waist, pausing so she could take in the full effect, enjoying the rapturous look on her face, and then captured her once again with his mouth.
She moaned into his mouth as her searching hands finally found naked flesh, taunt and smooth, rippling with power beneath her fingers. He shivered under her touch and pressed his chest to hers, nearly howling with displeasure at the fabric keeping him from enjoying her silken skin.
~~~
Liz came to herself as she heard Ingram’s faint chuckle and she covered her disgust that the man had the audacity to think it was his body she was so tightly wet about.
“I remember you,” she managed to keep her voice calm and even bored but inside she was shaking.
Something was trying to get through her drugged up haze, something important. A scent, a feeling, something to have triggered that particular memory.
“You remember as well,” he fairly purred out, or at least she thought he did, and Jondy-Liz swallowed again as she took a deep breath and had another sudden flashback of a hazel-eyed god who had brought flaming desire and burning passion all mixed with one extreme ache that hadn’t been soothed since. Damn her Manticore-made perfect memory recall.
“How come you got to capture them and I didn’t?” she pouted instead, not wanting to pursue that topic.
“I’m better than you.”
“I’m better than you,” danced in her head, mocking her with an oh-so-familiar smirk accompanying the simple smart aleck remark, and Liz just wanted to deck Ingram for marring such a beloved phrase from her perfect memory.
Liz did roll her eyes then and sighed when he stepped out of the final straps holding the prosthetics up. He gripped the edge of his long sleeved, ribbed turtleneck shirt and lifted it and the hairy arm prosthetic over his head and tossed it negligently to the side.
Oh. My. Blue Lady.
The transformation from upright Quasimodo to drool inducing God of All Hot Men was complete and startling. This was better than Brad Pitt’s as Achilles, better than Vin Diesel’s Richard Riddick, he was Xena’s Aries, and what a God of War he was. He was standing in just boots and a set of black combat fatigues that made sure to hug and accent the generous curve of his very noteworthy rear. Got to love a guy with a decent butt, most white guys have nothing to grab a hold of, so to speak. Well, usually.
Liz knew she was in trouble in more ways than one when she started to describe her former trainer in such terms. She felt herself start to sweat and found herself imagining things about S.T. Ingram that she never should have. How long had Pierce and his goons had her…long enough for one of her heats?
Damn it!
Jondy-Liz hadn’t noticed, what with the drugs and torture and all going on, that it had come time for her heat, past time actually. And it seemed that all the drugs that had possibly delayed it for so long were finally wearing off and she was starting to feel the effects. It was going to be a bad one, of this Jondy-Liz was almost positive. The man in front of her was only making matters worse.
Apparently his undershirt went with the prosthetic shirt. It was wow worthy for an older guy but the drugs must have had an hallucinogen in it because her mind kept coming back to that first Heat, to the hazel eyed Adonis, that all consuming bundle of nerve and sinew, and substitute his body over that of her former trainer.
Her memory man’s chest had had not one sign of fat on him, lean and toned muscle all the way from his tight, hairless pecs to a very amazing set of very defined, very ripped abdominals. Oh, man, those abs…made Liz’s mouth water just looking at them, recalling perfectly how the individual abs fit her mouth, and how delicious they tasted as she flicked her tongue over them.
Whoa, down girl! He’s the enemy; take a trip down memory lane later. Namely, once you’ve gotten away from him and the ghoul who holds his leash!
“Enjoying the show?” he questioned as he stalked toward her, ignoring the two men still unconsciousness and the mess he’d made taking off his disguise.
“Depends on if you charge or not. Left my dollar bills in my other pair of pants, so sorry.”
If I ever need to be the soldier 210, now would be the time! Jondy-Liz thought desperately. She looked up at Ingram with something close to panic; all she could do was hope he would leave her alone.
It has been brought to my attention that some of you are confused by who the ‘fat jolly tech’ is. I thought I had made it clear but I guess I wasn’t :looks sheepish:
The fat jolly tech is Trevor Ingram. He was assigned to work as handler to our favorite hazel eyed Lord of All Toastie McHotties (hehe props to those who can guess the reference) and in the process managed to snag some field time as well. He was the one who found the bloodwork and data and placed the call to Manticore. He was also in ‘disguise’ using advanced prosthetics and make-up like any good black ops super spy.
I hope this makes it clearer and sorry to all those who thought it was Zack and Alec. :/
To all my readers out there this is just a warning…Alec X5-494 is in this chapter. Be advised: detailed and possibly graphic images will ensue, especially in feedback form and since this concerns heat, past and present, there will be high risk of mature themes unsuitable for those not supposed to read it.
I’m going to try and eke the Mature standing for all it’s worth, I’ll probably need a beta to help with all the steamy-ness since I myself have never but vicariously experienced anything of a sensual and beyond nature. I’ve never even kissed a boy (I know, twenty and never been kissed or had a boyfriend) much less did the beast with two backs.
My friends make fun of me because they had been talking about first, second and third base during a relationship talk at lunch when we were freshmen in high school (so long ago) and I, being the innocent and naïve one of the bunch, confusedly asked “What does baseball have to do with anything, I thought we were talking about relationships?”
You can imagine the reaction that garnered. I have never so far been able to live this one down, it has gone in all my friend’s memories as the cutest, funniest thing to remember for our four years of the torture known as high school. I suspect I never will.
But I do, however, have an active imagination. Hint, hint, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. And I use it very, very well.
~~~
Chapter 6b
~~~
~~~
~~~ Previously:
If I ever need to be the soldier 210, now would be the time! Jondy-Liz thought desperately. She looked up at Ingram with something close to panic; all she could do was hope he would leave her alone.
But he kept coming closer.
~~~
From his vantage point in the air ducts, the transgenic operative frowned as he surveyed the scene before him. Everything was in order: the other government operative and the doctor were secured and out of the game for the moment, the target was still bound despite the unorthodox strip tease performed by his handler, and the retrieval group consisting of Colonel Lydecker and hopefully some other transgenics and not humans, was en route.
Eagle Rock Lake, New Mexico was only ten hours and some odd minutes away from Gillette, Wyoming, the closest facility. Since Manticore was in a big hurry to get to their little loose end, he figured they would be using specially modified transports to get them here quicker, speed limits – who heeds those anyway?
Being a secret government base, Eagle Rock should only be fifteen to twenty minutes outside of the town of Eagle Rock Lake. Considering that the Colonel wouldn’t have called and ordered his handler Ingram to apprehend and secure the target unless they were close enough to provide back up, the DCO figured they had another half hour tops before help arrived.
So why did he get such a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach? That was too much time for something to go wrong, and he had a feeling he could have took that bet to the bank.
Especially when an 09er was involved; particularly this little 09er.
X5-494 frowned again, the furrows marring his sculpted brow, as he considered the target below him. He put the memories of her against the woman she’d turned out to be and he couldn’t find her lacking; physically wise of course.
The weeks of harsh treatment under the Special Unit and its fleet of doctors and medical personnel had taken it’s toll, noticeable in the deep, dark circles under her eyes, the skin tightened across cheeks that had lost their fullness due to a lack of nourishment and were now gaunt, and the pallid complexion of one who hadn’t seen the light of natural day for some time though it kept some of its bronze hue due to good genetics.
But the fire still burned within her eyes, those darkened orbs nearly black with passion of will and life as she stared defiantly toward the approaching handler, a light sheen of sweat upon her face, possibly due to the cocktail of drugs that had been ingested intravenously, and she licked her lips.
494 had a sudden, jolting recollection that pierced through the haze of indoctrination and reconstruction and he almost gasped.
~~~
‘That would be none of your business,’ 494 smirked, not bothering to hide the fact he was checking her out, an annoying smirk adorning his chiseled features.
She, having never given him her name, practically purred even as she pouted, her eyes alternately darkening and glittering, and she could feel an irrepressible need rising from within. A need he felt he needed to fill and only he could fill, and fill her good he would, she licked her lips in anticipation, a light sheen of sweat upon her brow though the air conditioning in the building was up full blast.
‘Fine, it’s none of my business. I can tell when I’m not wanted,” she sulked, and rose to leave.
‘No one said that,’ his voice had deepened to husky want, and turning her head to meet his gaze, she saw the same need and desperation in her mirrored in his own eyes.
‘C’mere,’ he growled before possessing her lips.
~~~
“Oh, shit,” 494 growled as his nose took in the delicate and intoxicating scent of her pheromones. “She was, she is in frickin’ heat.”
The part of him that had it’s roots more closely linked to something with fur, and claws, and a mouthful of fangs jumped as it recognized the familiar scent, unique to her and her alone. It had been years since he’d scented that last, tasted the bounty that accompanied that scent, but he remembered it well, and his body instinctively knew and was eager for that time to mate again, to claim what was rightfully his and had been lacking all these years.
“Why is she always in heat when I meet her?” he hissed, looking at his timepiece almost desperately.
The ETA had not changed in the thirty seconds since he realized that this plan was shot even more ways FUBAR than before?
How was he going to deal rationally and logically –hell, humanly- when the time came to hand her over if his greatest urge was to fuck her? Hand her over to Colonel Lydecker ~other alpha male, human, weak, don’t let him take female~ and possibly other male transgenics ~males, rivals, fight, defend, mine~ to take her away.
He tamped down the growl that threatened to rise at the thought of another male ~no!~ taking his rogue down to a mere rumble in his chest and hoped to hell the thin aluminum didn’t vibrate with the action.
His lips pulled tight in a scowl as his eyes darkened in jealousy when his mate –no, the traitor, the target!- gazed upon the middle aged handler like she should have been looking to him, 494. This time he couldn’t stop the warning growl that trickled out, a warning to an unsuspecting and unheeding Ordinary male, who was currently gloating in front of the prisoner, oblivious to the danger he was now in.
Nothing is worse than a female X5 in heat, 494 thought as he shifted toward the grate and started to subtly work on loosening the grate. He didn’t want the prisoners down below to know anything was further amiss until absolutely necessary, and he sure as hell didn’t want Ingram to know either.
Except a male X5 who catches wind of said female X5 in heat, he amended with a grimacing baring of teeth.
He checked his timepiece, again, needlessly but for something to do. C’mon, hurry up!
~~~
“Don’t come any closer,” Jondy-Liz suddenly broke the silent stare down between her and her former trainer, a little of her desperation breaking through the barriers of the soldier 210 that was fast eroding.
The urge to leap out of the butt freeze chair –while always having been a goal in Jondy-Liz’s mind- was now for the same reason but with a slightly altered mission of opportunity. Instead of simply just escaping the chair and hence the facility, Jondy-Liz now wanted to leap out of the chair, find someone to fuck, and then escape. Which made sense to the inner kitty, who was even now shaking the dust off her fur, and starting to stretch out and flex her claws.
“Why not?” Trevor Ingram asked bluntly, inwardly enjoying seeing one of the vaunted transgenics – one of his 09ers in fact- tremble before him.
Please, oh, please don’t make me say it aloud, Jondy-Liz begged the divine powers.
“Why not?” he pressed, coming just a step closer.
A step too close that brought with it the scent of man and sweat, a combination that set off a deep, throbbing ache between her nethers, and made her stomach contract painfully with the fast burning desire quickly eating away the drugs and creating a haze of its own, just as deadly. A soft moan tried to push it’s way through her lips but she clamped down, sucking in shallow breaths to try and offset the affects but it was a loosing battle and Liz knew it.
Her inner kitty latched onto the man scent –male, bring release- like a lioness her prey and she could feel her body start to respond, to repose in a way to entice and subconsciously she started to rub her legs together, almost hissing at the warmth and friction she was starting to cause.
“It’s that female time of the month for me, sir,” she meant to state but it came out more a caress and far more seductive than 210 intended and Liz was just barely hanging on from allowing the Jondy-feline to take over.
Agent Pierce’s head jerked upward in surprise: this was quite the unexpected turn of events. He was confused at the byplay between this new threat and his acquisition but it would have to wait for later. While Ms. Parker was distracting the not-so-chubby-or-jolly tech, Pierce was trying to get free of his bonds.
Gillette had been sneaky for an old egghead, binding the fatty mid-forearm instead of the wrists. If he could just twist a little more and work the bindings down to his wrists, hopefully without tightening the damn things-Zip ties were so annoying that way- then perhaps he could get free and take back control.
“That female time of the month?” Ingram repeated, gawking at her. He frowned as he came closer still, almost within reach. “Your kind doesn’t have monthlies only…”
Jondy-cat watched as the realization of her situation crossed his face and let a smile grace her own.
“Good God, you’re in heat,” Ingram stared at the bewitching female before him.
“And you’re in too many clothes, soldier,” her smile turned seductive even as her words became almost ‘dirty’.
Of course he was aware of heat and all the implications resulting thereof: you didn’t stick with Manticore for almost twenty years without being made aware of the heat cycles the females went through.
The X series all the way up to the second generation X5s were known for the extremely excessive and natural territorial inclination toward the breeding cycle. Females, aggressive anyway due to the tremendous rigor of training and upbringing, became almost abusively so.
Males, already going through the harsh social and physical changes in rank and standing, started to exhibit an almost maniacal and blind fury competing with other males for a female in estrus, and were practically fanatical in defending one’s ‘mate’ from the other males once said male caught her. In the same fashion, once ‘mated’ the female stuck to the chosen male and was extremely jealous and aggressive in dealing with other females who ‘threatened’ their standing with their chosen male.
In the X5s this undesired trait was more rampant and extreme, perhaps due to the high percentage of feline and other extremely territorial super predators built within their genetic makeup, where the female of the species was far deadlier and involved in the seeking and holding of a mate than others used for later X-series to correct this major fiasco.
“Doctor Gillette–” Larissa Snowden began as she entered the operating center, focused on the lab work in front of her, looked up and shrieked at the sight of the unfamiliar man in front of her. “Security! Intruder alert, intruder -”
The rest of her cries were choked off as Ingram frantically raced forward and clamped down on her mouth, dragging the thrashing woman back inside and closing the door, hitting the electronic locking mechanism with his elbow and freeing a hand long enough to type in a pirated code to deny any outside access.
He cast a concerned glance over his shoulder, cursing the struggling woman in his arms for sounding the alarm. Already, uniformed men were rushing toward them, and Trevor knew that the door would only last so long. Question was: with three hostages and one souped up horny teenaged supersoldier, how in the hell was he supposed to get out of this one?
“Deck’s gonna kill me if the Bitch don’t,” he muttered.
Okay, y’all, the long awaited update is here! * key music and wild cheering, applause *
I spent an entire day punching this out, despite my beta up and leaving me, and I hope you all love it.
Just a warning, this chapter I’d rate as Mature to Adult based on violence of a graphic nature and a bunch of language, so if you’re not the appropriate age (I’d say 18+) then I strongly recommend you don’t read further. The POVs change rapidly, so you might have to pay attention so you don’t get lost, or confused.
That said, if you the underage choose to ignore this warning, I as the author and Roswellfanatics.net and all it’s administrators, moderators, and members are not responsible for the damage to the psyche or innocence of the underage willingly ignoring warnings of explicit content.
The usual disclaimers apply, Dark Angel, it’s characters (in the forms of Alec, transgenics, Manticore, and any other such recognizable characters, themes, ideas, etc.) belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee, Fox, and any other parties involved that have not been named. In the same manner, Roswell, it’s characters, ideas, themes, etc. belong to Melinda Metz, James Cameron, the WB, and other parties not named.
I, Kristin, known as KiaraAlexisKlay, the author am only getting entertainment value out of such writing, no profit or copyright infringement being made.
There, now that I have caught up on all the necessary stuff after my prolonged hiatus, please enjoy!
A big shout out to Jamy21 for beta-ing this chapter!
~~~
Chapter 7 – Loaded and Lethal Again
~~~
Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit Daniel Pierce was having a bad day. A bad two and a half months actually, but most especially, he was having a bad day. He’d come perilously close to executing the one ace up the sleeve they had against the Evans boy, and he’d had no clue what the hell Gillette had been rambling on about, except that the girl was obviously as not human as her boyfriend, yet at the same time was as alien to her boyfriend's breed as he was alien to humans.
Pierce scowled at that tangle of thought, trying to work his Zip-ties to travel up his arm to his wrist, cursing under his breath at the slight tightening. He’d have to work carefully, but he didn’t have a lot of time. Thanks to the lab rat Snowden, who nobly but stupidly called for the cavalry, there would now be several platoons worth of FBI agents and TAC officers bursting in with guns blazing to take out the threat. That would mean there was a chance he or his ace prisoner would get caught in the crossfire and that was not to be allowed.
The pounding at the door and the squawking of radios outside the blast door had Pierce picking up his pace. The hard plastic rubbed along his skin and then…presto! Pulling against the closure piece, Pierce wriggled his wrist and after much scraping, swearing, and wary looks toward the distracted intruder so as not to be noticed, he had one wrist free.
Yes! It wasn’t much of an effort to free his other wrist, and after a warning glare to Gillette, he made his way to the tray that still bore one of his firearms, plus Gillette’s doctor paraphernalia.
Hmm…the things he could do with a scalpel, but unfortunately, time dictated the most expedient means of disposing the menace. He grasped the government issued Glock with familiar ease, already knowing it was loaded, with one in the chamber.
The intruder still had Snowden in his grasp and he alternated looking at the door and at the prisoner, whom he was here to take away. She was in the midst of trying to break free from her restraints.
Not on his watch.
The armed intruder’s back was turned to where Gillette and he was supposed to be; Pierce saw his opportunity, and he raised his pistol to fire…
…when a massive explosion rocked the room, the door flew apart, and the halogen lightbulbs exploding with a loud pop and spark of light.
Damn it, who authorized the release of C4 and detonators to the rescuing idiots?
~~~
Liz knew things were really screwed after the tech bitch came in and screamed…screaming females of high civilian rank in a top secret facility was usually not of the good in her experience. Not that she’d ever had that many opportunities to be in a position where there was a screaming female of high civilian rank of a top-secret facility.
She’d seen movies, though, and the screaming female always heralded danger like a Banshee calling Death. This would be the first, and Blue Lady willing, her last time in this position.
Ingram was slipping in his old age, Jondy snorted, watching as Pierce made his escape. She shook her head, tsk-ing under her breath, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
She would have made sure both prisoners were secured or at least unconscious, and she would never have turned her back on all of her prisoners.
Transgenic hearing told her what the Special Unit was planning on doing, and even her heat-addled mind knew C4 and plastique detonating was going to be bad. She did some fast calculations and determined that while she wouldn’t be in the direct line of wherever the door landed, (there were at least fifty variations on which way the doors were launched after the explosion, and without an accurate determination on how heavy the doors actually were she couldn’t compute how far they would fly), one thing she was certain of was that bullets were no respecter of who’s side you were on or if you were a prisoner secured.
Those odds she didn’t care for and set about her own escape. To hell with keeping her abilities masked, she didn’t want about fifty bazillion new air holes punched through various portions of her body, thank you very much.
Besides, she still wanted to fuck someone, but you couldn’t screw anyone if you were dead. So that was going to have to be put on the back burner until she could be sure she wasn’t going to look like Swiss cheese.
Every ounce of fear, panic, anger, passion, and survival instinct coupled with her natural strength went into trying to break the arms on the chair. If she could free an arm or a leg she could roll over to the side and put the chair between her and most of the bullets coming her way with minimal damage to herself.
Damn drugs! They were seriously inhibiting her ability to escape quickly and Jondy sent a string of curses in fourteen different languages at the idiot who had created the cocktail.
210 put everything into one arm and was satisfied to hear the weak aluminum of the chair groaning as the arm she focused on started to bend to her will, but it was slow going, even with the noise from Snowden and those outside to muffle her actions.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… she chanted, and then there was a brief second of silence that raised all the hairs on her body.
“Shit!” she screamed and pure animal panic caused her to throw her body to one side just as the door exploded inwardly.
~~~
494 cursed out loud as he heard the silence and he gave up any pretense at being stealthy. One strong kick and the vent shot outward, masked by the explosion and he leapt into blinding nothingness.
Years of training and exercises where their sight had been taken away either by blindfold or a beating to swell the eyes had taught 494 to heed his other senses when he couldn’t see. He landed on his feet, rolling into his fall and coming up in a crouch with his .9 mm drawn with a bullet in the chamber. The glass from the busted lightbulbs sluiced off his fatigues and he paid no heed to the small wounds from the shards.
He was already in motion when the first TAC officer came into the room, preceded by a burst from his semi automatic M-4 and cover fire from his comrades. Two guns fired in response and 494’s sharp ears noted the difference between Ingram’s and the prisoner named Pierce’s. More TAC officers came in, the woman screamed, the doctor screamed, Ingram called out for back up and 494 had no choice but to obey.
The acrid smell of smoke and the immediate threat threw his instincts to simmer in the back until a more opportune moment.
Raising his hand and shifting into a stance as natural as breathing, X5-494 entered the fray.
First bullet and one man was down.
Muscles rippling like liquid, feet as swift as a cheetah and as quiet as nothingness, his mind tracked the next threat.
Two more bullets meant two other men dead, shot through the Vermillion line.
Dodge, duck, weave, fire once and fire again. One shot, one kill, two more out of the equation, final bullet left in the clip.
Find cover, fire from concealment, another enemy dead, pop clip out, insert new one, freshly loaded and lethal again.
~~~
The shockwave from the explosion, aided by her wild surge, had knocked the chair off its axis and Liz and it went flying. She knew better than to tense, tense muscles only bruised easier and caused more damage, but she couldn’t do anything else.
Liz’s eyes had closed, and her ears were still ringing from the blast, but upon snapping open it was 210 in control.
Damage report: bruised shoulder, arms, wrist, and ribs on left side. Skull possibly concussed, legs, arms, and wrists still bound. Heat and hormones; momentarily subdued. Status: need to leave premises ASAP!
210 struggled with the arm of the chair she’d been working on previously, noting the explosion had did most of the hard work for her, and with a satisfying snap, she brought the broken piece to her mouth, where she worked on the leather buckle keeping her strapped in since she was still lying on her side and her other arm was momentarily out of commission.
She’d been making progress but a sudden burst of gunfire had her cringing and curling as close to the floor to make herself as inconspicuous of a target as possible. Screaming reached her ears, but 210 merely made note of this, while renewing her efforts to free herself. She had yanked her arm away from her face and panted, the sharp tang of leather on her tongue when suddenly she screamed, a raw, surprised sound as pain seared through her wrist and shoulder.
~~~
494’s head snapped around, that last scream causing something inside him to react, and he found himself running through a storm of bullets to the downed chair.
A snarl and a howl of pure rage burst through his lips as he slid the last few feet toward the wounded figure huddling under the slim cover of the chair, firing his gun like some super spy hero out of some pre-Pulse movie.
Four men went down and the gunfire in this direction ceased for a few moments.
~~~
210 hissed as she felt a presence but knew she couldn’t defend herself, to her dismay.
I’ve been fucking shot! Jondy and Liz screamed inwardly, but there was a new threat to be dealt with.
Tensing, 210 looked up at the face of her newest ‘attacker’…
…and froze upon scenting and confirming her mate.
~~~
494 didn’t hesitate or give any thought to what he was about to do. He didn’t stop to think that he was going to free the enemy, the target, the rogue 09er whose group had caused him so much pain and unnecessary punishment.
Blood from the gunshot wounds she’d sustained and her steely determination carried through the bitter smoke of gunfire and the busted bulbs, and he was aware only of a few things.
Mate, hurt, PROTECT!
She was here. Gunshot through the wrist, bones shattered.
She was wounded. Another gunshot just above the elbow, bullet still inside?
She was his.
She was…purring?
~~~
Technically, he was the enemy, and subconsciously, Jondy Liz and 210 knew that he was here to take her back to Hell.
But that didn’t matter.
He was here. Smelled so good.
He was releasing her from the butt-freeze chair. Gentle hands not so gently ripping leather and metal, but careful not to jar her injuries.
He had killed the bastards who’d shot her. Protector, strong.
He was hers, her mate. MINE.
A purr of pure longing, satisfaction, and gratefulness burst out her mouth as soon as he touched her, and not even 210 could explain the immediate sense of safety and the fact that everything was now all right.
~~~
“Freaking, stupid, bastard!”
Ingram fired a round in the direction he’d last glimpsed that stupid Agent, knowing it was probably useless as the blasted man ducked under cover. The light from the hallway wasn’t trustworthy, as smoke and gun bursts and the flashlights on the guns of the invading force made sight severely limited.
Trevor had long ago – or so it seemed- to have rid himself of the Snowden bitch. He hadn’t meant to do it on purpose, but he’d inadvertently used her as a human shield. How was he to know that these tic-TAC officers were the shoot first, see if anyone survived later kind of guys?
Luckily, he had an X5 on his side, but that damned supersoldier had went off somewhere in the room and he couldn’t see but a few feet in front of him.
“Can’t trust anything to your back these days,” Ingram grunted, dodging another spate of gunfire aimed in his direction. Pierce was really starting to piss him off and how the hell had he gotten loose?
“Never trust anyone to do your own job,” Ingram was disgusted with himself. He’d let his own pride and ego at having the rogue in hand that he’d gotten lazy and now a rookie mistake could get himself killed.
“Damnit!”
Luckily for him, Pierce and the other non-transgenic people couldn’t see worth a shit either. Not so luckily, a bullet meant for his head hit his collarbone and the pain was almost enough for him to pass out.
The little bastard had shot him. He was going down, Ingram swore, gritting his teeth as he stemmed the flow of blood with one hand. He waited patiently, and then he fired. Pierce jerked and flew backwards, and Ingram didn’t bother with the smirk, he just dived forward, bullets riddling where his head had been.
Yup, if he survived this, Deck was going to kill him.
Slowly.
Painfully was a redundant understatement.
He only hoped Deck’s ‘kid’ was okay because if anything unfortunate happened to her…
Death would be the least of my worries, he thought morosely.
~~~
Two bandages, four hand signals, and one kamikaze run through the gauntlet of desperate gunfire later, 210 was armed and fighting side by side with her mate. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t sure she recalled his designation, if she’d ever known it, or that he probably wasn’t too certain about her either.
What mattered was that for the first time in nearly eleven years she was kicking ass with one of her own kind, and what a difference it made! She couldn’t deny that, down in the bowels of a secret military and government facility, bullets flying, and death hovering in air, that she was having fun.
Okay, the fact that she had just blown away one of the guards who’d been sent to her cell to ‘convince’ her to give up Max and the rest of the Pod Squad, might have had a little to do with it.
Just a little.
At her side, or she at his however one wanted to look at it, her mate was an amazing sight to behold. This grown up version left her all hot and bothered, even amidst all the chaos and destruction, perhaps even despite her heat. He’d lost most of the baby ‘fat’ around his face, and though still youthful looking, he was lean and even broader across the shoulders than she remembered.
He’d filled out a little more in the chest and arms, grown a few more inches, though he’d never be what one would call a tall man. But there was a strength and sturdiness that she’d associated with Kyle and Sheriff Valenti, the kind of little Mustang or Morgan horse stability that the tall aristocratic Thoroughbreds or the bulging draft horses could never have.
His eyes were just as intense as she’d remembered, somehow made all the more startling and vibrant by the dark clothes and the sporadic lighting. One moment they were a clear green to rival Maria’s…the next they looked closer to Michael’s. Most often they were a blend of the two, and then sometimes when they looked at her, they darkened and shifted to something more primal and natural looking on their furred cousins. She could lose herself in those ever changing depths, but right now, they had a common goal.
Kill as many of these fuckers as possible.
After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Then, maybe then, would they be able to get back to being adversaries and possibly hating each other, with her trying to escape and him trying to catch her.
Her lover made a gesture and she answered in kind, a different kind of thrill and adrenaline coursing through her as they advanced upon their targets. This was what she was made for and to be at the side of one so competent soldier…well, there was a momentary wistful longing that she had stayed longer for her training, but that thought was quickly cast aside.
There was so much in her life that she owed to the people she’d met on the Outside, she just couldn’t imagine ever having anything changed. She wouldn’t give up having met any of the people in her life, except maybe Pierce and his goonettes, for all the Manticore training in the world.
Eyes front, soldier! 210 barked, casually stiffening her arm and clotheslining the unaware soldier. Another snap of her hand as he went down and the man was unconscious and likely to wake up a paraplegic.
She looked up and smirked, winking at her mate and lover, laughing inwardly.
This was so what she was made for.
The fight was almost better than sex.
Almost.
~~~
494 nearly felt sorry for the advantages they had over the TAC officers…almost. These were the damned humans who had tortured and tormented his mate for weeks on end, who had shot her, and now were after them after having screwed up what should have been a simple find and retrieve mission. He was certain he was going to get several sessions of Psy Ops for this, even though it wasn’t his fault, but that had never stopped him from being punished.
So he didn’t feel all that bad that his petite mate took out a man over twice her height and bodyweight, or that they could see in the dark and adjust almost instantaneously to the ever changing lighting, or that the man his mate just took out would probably never feel anything below his neck again.
He could still smell her blood, and he knew she was still bleeding steadily, albeit slowly. The wound in her wrist was bleeding faster, having an exit and entry wound, and concerned him more than the wound above her elbow. Though if they didn’t get the bullet out soon, there could be problems. Just because they were immune to most things, didn’t make them immune to bleeding out or blood clots.
When she looked up at him, smirking and winking at him, his heart swelled with an emotion he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt or that he wanted to. Emotions was what had caused the 09ers to commit treason.
Catching her wink and sending her one of his own, he signaled Three men, lined abreast and motioned up ahead, she nodded, and raised her purloined M-16, easily slipping back into soldier mode and passing in front of him, taking point.
Shaking his head, either with wonder or amusement, he didn’t know, still he followed her.
Now that he’d found her again, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
~~~
Three men had him pinned down when his earpiece suddenly chattered to life.
“Agent, report!”
“Shit!”
Ingram ducked under the barrage of hail fire his curse had apparently asked for. Well, what did they expect when Lydecker’s voice suddenly chimed in his head?
“That better be an acronym, Agent. Over!”
“Situation. Has. Intensified. Tenfold!” Ingram snarked as he popped up and fired a few bursts and then ducked down again.
There was a silence and then, “Facility being surrounded. Reinforcements arriving T-minus ten minutes.”
“Thank God. Over.”
The sputter of an M-16 and a SAW ripped through the air, and then there were roars of pain and eventually, silence. Sporadic bursts of fire came to his ears, and he could track the position of the enemy by their death cries.
The gunfire tapered off and then the silence stretched longer.
Cautiously, and painfully as his shoulder throbbed and bled off the makeshift bandage, Ingram came out from behind his cover.
He still couldn’t see anything, but he had the weirdest sense that he was the only living person in the room. A groan from the fallen Agent Pierce he just stepped on had him reassessing that statement.
Ingram groaned as he bent down and felt for a pulse. Exhaled breath feathered his wrist.
“Damn, still breathing.” Trevor scowled at the agent who’d shot him.
“That could be remedied.”
“Shit!”
Ingram whipped his pistol upwards but halted at the sight of both his transgenics before him. He blinked and when his vision cleared he could still see two transgenics, one male and one female: one was 494 for certain and the other was definitely 210 in all her glory.
Sweat, grime, and blood – lots and lots of blood- was splattered all over her and her clothes, but that didn’t seem to affect her grip on the lethal looking M-16 rifle any. Her hair, long and unbound, was slick with it, wet strands glistening in the reddish light of the alarms and alert status the base was in. Her left wrist and arm just above the elbow were bandaged, though there was more blood escaping her wrist than being contained in a steady drip.
Both were in a modified at ease stance around him, side by side, and for a moment Ingram forgot that they weren’t all on the same side. That little lapse of reality, which he would later blame on blood loss and other things, lasted only until the radio in his ear squawked with Lydecker’s clear tones.
“Agent, reinforcements in T-minus five minutes, building surrounded. Secure the rogue, over.”
Both men seemed dumbstruck as the Colonel’s voice broke the loaded silence.
~~~
Lydecker!
Jondy-Liz panicked and 210 was already out the door and down the hall before her thought process caught up.
Escape and Evade!
~~~
“Damnit, she’s armed!” 494 took off after her.
“Stupid…” he growled.
~~~
“Stupid,” Liz hissed, rifle snapping into position and she fired a close burst into the surprised Special Unit members, not stopping in her mad dash for freedom.
~~~
“Stupid!” Ingram groaned, heaving the unconscious Special Agent in Charge of the Special Unit’s body to the nearest stationary pole, making sure to secure him properly this time, disarming him and removing spare clips.
“All units, this is Agent One, the Rogue is on the move, repeat, the Rogue is on the move. X5 in pursuit. Be advised, the Rogue is in heat, repeat, Rogue in heat. She’s wounded and bleeding, left wrist and just above the elbow, gunshot. Rogue’s armed, I repeate, the Rogue is armed. Copy, over.”
Wearily, Ingram leaned against the blown apart doorway, suddenly so tired and acutely aware of his age and the pain in his body.
“Copy that Agent. Rogue lethal and loaded. Over and out.”
Trevor Ingram sighed, and waited for the reinforcements that would come. Pierce stirred and groaned, and Ingram was struck with a sudden thought.
This was the man responsible for the rape and torture and possible exposure of one of Deck’s precious kids. Everything had been documented and recorded and sent to Manticore, and Pierce had been identifiable in almost all of the recordings.
Suddenly, Ingram wasn’t in that much pain, and the X5 who came to retrieve him and secure any prisoners was curious at the odd smile upon his face.
Wow…another update so soon…I must really love you people, lol.
~~~
Chapter 8 – Catch Me If…
~~~
Fear.
Panic.
Pain.
Strange feelings they were not, but neither were they friends or wanted.
Like the Hounds of Hell were slavering at her heels, 210 was making a hasty flight.
Tactical retreat, not a flight, the soldier in her huffed at her description but the primal part of Liz wasn’t listening and Jondy’s bantering jokes were silent.
Corridors and rooms and soldiers and scientists flew by in a blur. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that The Colonel’s voice had scared her more than the thought of the FBI or the Alien Abyss ever had. Not just scared her, but terrified so deeply her soul echoed and ached with it.
It wasn’t just because he was a scary guy. Though there was that. He wasn’t her childhood demon just because he had been a convenient target for the monstrous profile. It was whom he was, how he was, and more importantly, who and what he represented.
Manticore.
Torture.
The rape of individuality.
Death to free will.
To her way of thinking, The Colonel and Manticore went hand in hand, there was no separation of state, no underlying clause, or loophole, or hope of parole.
Her senses on hyper aware, she knew she’d be followed, just as she knew who would be following. That thought caused a tidal wave of shudders, but not of the frightened kind.
After what seemed like forever but couldn’t have been more than minutes, she broke the building’s perimeter and into the night. For the first time in weeks – no, months – Liz tasted fresh, unfiltered, non-recycled air.
The clean, bracing air hit her lungs and rejuvenated flagging spirits and worn limbs. Like a druggie who’d gone months without her drug of choice and suddenly in contact with it, she breathed deeply and let it filter in through lungs, veins, and capillaries. Aroused from her panicked state, 210 was able to look at the situation more calmly, even as her body duck and wove through the underbrush.
The similarities to the night Pierce’s teams caught her disagreed with her and subconsciously she took a different route. She didn’t believe in bad luck or karma; neither was she sure of nor was she a fan of destiny, but kismet seemed to have had it in for her. The butt freeze chair, having to look at Pierce on a daily basis, the doctors and their assorted minions…as if that hadn’t been enough she was drugged, in heat, and her mate and the Hellhounds under The Colonel’s command were in mix.
She’d rather not take the chance.
Since she was sure that Ingram had already radioed her absence to Lydecker, there was a good possibility the reinforcements would even now be trying to net her in. The fact that her mate – she really needed to name him, or get his number – was called into play told her that the extraction team was probably comprised of her fellow X5s.
That would make this night just peachy.
This isn’t going to be easy, Liz thought grimly, trying to take extra care, but knew it was almost useless. She ignored the stupid voice in her head sounding like Lydecker’s, telling her that if it was easy she’d never truly won.
Now was not the time to go down bad memory lane.
She was drugged, in heat, wounded, probably smelled as she hadn’t had a proper bath or grooming in weeks, and being hunted by highly trained supersoldiers who hadn’t been AWOL for the last eleven years and therefore used to attacking and/or sparring with others of their own skills and strengths. Jondy knew she was good and had kept up on much of her training, but it had been years since she’d gone against another X5, tonight and the night of her first heat didn’t count.
“Damn!” Liz twisted to the side and barely avoided the blur that had tried to side kick her.
Jondy snarled silently, barring her teeth, narrowed eyes upon her attacker who swiftly was coming at her again. 210 knew that she wasn’t in any shape to take a stand against the coolly professional female supersoldier charging her, knowing that this was a stalling tactic for the others to catch up, which wasn’t good. Nor was it an option.
Liz allowed the other girl close enough, feigning as if her injuries were truly slowing her down, and inwardly cursing that the majority of the pain and sluggishness she portrayed wasn’t as faked as she’d like.
Like a shark with a blood scent, the soldier attacked, only the white of her eyes reflecting any of the pale moonlight, her dark skin and fatigues blending so well with the night even Jondy’s night vision had to work to pick her out.
A few precious moments were spent avoiding the fast and furious punches and kicks, kicks and punches that Liz didn’t so much let hit as tried to avoid taking the full impact. She was mad that her M-16 was out of ammo and she had run out of spare clips. So she popped the spent magazine out and hefted it by the cooled barrel, swinging it like a club.
As she’d hoped, the soldier jumped back and then darted forward to try and slip past her guard on the back swing. It was exactly what Liz had hoped she would do, and moving her foot as she ducked to the side, let fly the branch she had bent back go whipping forward to catch her opponent full on in the face.
The resulting crack seemed to shatter the darkness and the sickening crunch did not bode well for the fallen soldier.
Liz wheezed, winded, but couldn’t stop a smirk as the dazed supersoldier collapsed at her feet, using a quote from a forced boy’s ‘classic’ movie night.
“‘Be friendly to your environment, and it will take care of you. That is the ninja way.’”
Not having more time to gloat, she was already in motion before she was finished speaking. She just wished her next opponents would be as easy to take down.
But hey, as someone once told her, if it was easy she hadn’t truly won.
~~~
X5-571 groaned as she came to, wincing, and raising a shaky hand to the throbbing flesh of her forehead.
What the hell…the rogue! The damn Niner had bushwhacked her…literally!
“You okay, 571?”
571 shivered and blinked, trying to focus in on the shadow kneeling beside her.
“494…sir?”
The smaller part of the shadow moved, she figured it to be his head, and 571 valiantly tried to keep her stomach in check. Soldiers did not show weakness, and they most certainly did not empty the contents of their stomachs from a little pain.
“She got me.” She was ashamed to admit to her former commanding officer.
494 had always expected the best, and she had failed not only Lydecker, but him as well.
“Do you know where she went?”
Leveling him with a look, she clipped out an affronted, “No, sir.”
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly even as his eyes tracked to the side, and his nose flared to catch the lingering blood scent. He radioed in what had occurred, and confirmed that a medic was enroute to her position.
That slight amusement on an otherwise serious face did more to convince 571 that this was indeed her former c.o. and somehow, made her feel that much better.
“I’m continuing pursuit. You okay till Patches arrives?”
“Bring her down, sir.”
“Oh, I intend to,” he fairly purred, a grim smile crossing his features briefly and then he was gone. 571 groaned and grabbed her head, tilting far enough to the side so she wouldn’t splatter her clothes as she heaved where 494 had just vacated.
~~~
Home, home, home,Liz chanted inside her head, the smell of water growing stronger in her nostrils.
Water meant a river, or a lake. Water meant she wouldn’t leave tracks. Water meant she could soothe her aching muscles and joints, and dull the fiery pain and throbbing from the various wounds. Water meant she just might, might, be able to make it home to Roswell.
Water meant life.
Water was everything.
She ran as hard as she could, as fast as she could, trying hard to make it. The shoreline was closing in but her breath and sides kept hitching…damn wounds and damn imprisonment keeping her out of shape!
Her heart sped a rapid tempo in time to that little bit of hope and desperation pulsing deep inside…or maybe that was just the blood flowing. She was pretty sure she was leaking the viscous fluid something fierce.
The hairs on the back of her neck and shoulders stood straight up, some instinct having been warned just a fraction of a second before she gave a sharp cry of pain. Something, no someone, collided with her and she lost her footing, slipping on the slick ground and both of them careening over the side of the ridge she’d been running on. Plummeting down the slide of embankment made of mud, rock and brush on her back wasn’t an event she cared to repeat ever again.
It was a relief when she found herself freefalling only to slap the biting cold water below. Swift, powerful kicks followed by pure instinct and she surfaced to heave in huge, shallow breaths. Spluttering and grunting her assailant broke surface as well, closer to the bank than she, but by the time he –and the moonlight showed it was a he – realized she was still in the water, she had pushed herself into a current that was already taking her farther away.
Jondy snarled as she made out his lithe figure giving chase, powerful body making great strides to stay parallel and have her in his sights. Her pursuer audibly growled back and she hissed in recognition. She made no movement save for those necessary to keep her afloat and to avoid the various obstacles that could impede her progress: rocks, debris, fallen trees or branches.
It was almost relaxing as the water did most of the work, swirling her around in eddies that was strong enough to shift her weight, though the mini waterfalls were more of a challenge and a danger. The rocks were larger, sometimes sharper and sometimes smooth enough that her shadow could come across and get her. Fortunately, he was still far enough behind her that by the time he was in position to cross the slippery rocks she had already passed over and was merrily along her way.
Coughing out water and shivering from more than the water’s icy temperature, blearily she made out an overhanging limb, probably a downed tree from long ago and it stretched out almost the entire length of the river. Liz’s sharp ears caught the sucking sound as the water flowed underneath, and she was wary of going under the tree. She didn’t know how deep the water was there and she didn’t fancy getting stuck at the bottom of a river.
Images of a swimming pool and lifeless child like bodies screaming as the water invaded their lungs were difficult to erase.
Bracing herself as much as she could she reached out with numbed fingers, wincing at the impact as she grasped the slick, roughened wood and heaved herself upward despite her bodies’ screaming protest.
Hugging wood and doing her best to muffle her coughs, she crawled over to the shore and wearily started searching for some shelter. She was tired, drugged, and in so much pain, the soldier in her knew her limitations, and they were coming up fast, if she hadn’t passed them numerous times over.
The pain, cold, and despair vied for dominance but Liz studiously blanked her mind, though even she could sense her soldier walls weakening, and the darkness try to creep in. It was a loosing battle, but one that Jondy was determined to take on her own terms.
Holding back a whimper, and just thankful that it had recently rained; she crept barefoot toward the base of a massive, tall tree. Resigned, she once again gripped wood and hauled herself as high as she dared, taking care not to make too much noise. She found a fork in the tree that seemed as if it had been waiting just for her. The tree was one of those large trees whose twists and dips were flat enough and wide enough that a small person could curl up in relative comfort. Old leaves, dirt, and the remains of her overshirt made a decent enough bed and Liz finally gave up enough to drift into an uneasy slumber.
