| "Resurrection of the Dead" | ||
|
2nd June 2008 18.00hrs It was the voices that she heard first; they began to drill into the greyness that surrounded her, forcing her mind into a consciousness that eventually interpreted their words, "How's she doing?" The reply was lost, in a murmur. The voices faded away as she drew back into herself, feeling what was different, what had been changed since she last took stock. It took time, but she didn't mind, the longer it took the more awake she felt. Her hands and feet were in restraints, a drip attached to her left arm, so they were expecting her to wake up, but that they weren't certain of how she would do when she did. Her memory was unchanged, the events of the past few days, how much time had gone by?, were still fresh in her mind, but distant, remote. Madeline's death was justified, required, and necessary. Now they (the former operatives) could move on, secure in the knowledge that she could no longer reach out and interfere with their futures. She had no idea of how long she had been out, but it had given her time to accept her part in the events; she had no regrets, no self-pity, just a coldness that enveloped her, gave her some protection from others. Now it was time for her to move on, move away, and evolve into something else. Steps sounded drawing near; she lay quietly, not wanting to alert the attending to her alert state. She felt her arm being surrounded by a tourniquet and then it tightened its grip, she realised they were taking her blood pressure. She lay still and relaxed as though still asleep while a thermometer was placed in her ear, a beep and they were done. The pressure around her arm loosened and was removed, a moment later and the footsteps receded. She gave it a moment longer before she opened her eyes, looking around her surroundings straight into the eyes of Dr Gideon. He smiled, though it didn't seem to reach all the way to his centre, "I see you are awake, how do you feel?" She tried out her voice, dry and husky but it worked, "How long have I been here?" she deliberately steered the conversation away from her feelings. He seemed ill at ease, but he finally replied, "Three days." She moved her hands, as far as the restraints allowed her, "Do these need to be on? And the drip?" her voice was calm, and clear. Gideon nodded, "I wasn't certain how you would be," he looked slightly embarrassed; "we put them on to ensure that you couldn't hurt yourself or others. The drip can come out now you are awake." He undid the tape surrounding the cannula and removed it, putting it in a container and covering the wound with a dressing, his hands were deft though she noted that he didn't directly look at her eyes. She waited until he finished and then she nodded, "I see." She lay on the bed quietly, not taking the conversation further. Gideon cleared his throat, "You didn't answer my initial question, how do you feel?" She turned her head and looked at him, "Fine," knowing as she spoke, her answer was not going to satisfy him. He didn't give up, "You remember what happened just before you arrived?" Calmly, coolly, "I killed Madeline." "How do you feel about that?" "I don't." she responded. He looked concerned, "No problems, issues?" he asked. "None." Her response was quiet, delivered fast, but she had thought it through. "Do you want to talk about it?" he probed. She shrugged her shoulders, "Not really, but if you insist on it�." "Perhaps later. Why don't you have a rest." She could have smiled, three days and he wanted her to rest? He had to be kidding right? He was waiting for someone or something she could feel it. "If I promise not to go anywhere, how about removing these?" she indicated the restraints by pulling them away from the rails. He hesitated, "why not." He approached the bed, and undid the first one carefully. She didn't move, waiting until he had done all four and then she slowly turned on her side away from him, "Thanks." She closed her eyes, waiting for him to leave. **** Michael had been watching on the monitor, this was not how he had envisaged her response. All the Sims had indicated that she would either hit out at someone or try and injure herself but this behaviour had not been indicated. Gideon came in; he kept staring at the figure on the monitor for a few moments longer before turning to the other man, "Gideon, what do you make of it?" Gideon shook his head, "I don't know. Her past behaviour predicted different results, but she seems calm enough. She doesn't seem to be about to go off the rails." Michael turned back to the monitors, "What do you suggest?" "If she were still Section, I would say let her go but keep her under surveillance." He paused, "will she be monitored if we let her go?" Michael shook his head, "No." "Then we shouldn't let her leave," was the considered response. Michael turned back to the monitor the figure hadn't stirred. His memories of her trying to kill herself, by using him were too recent to ignore, but at the same time, he had no right to keep her locked up. He would have discussed the situation with Joshua, but that was not possible, this was his problem and he would have to deal with it. "I think we have to let her go, I will try and arrange for someone to be with her." He said slowly, "but first, I will go in and see her." **** She heard the door open, and someone entering. She turned towards them and saw Michael hesitate, she smiled, "Hi." Her voice soft and calm. He didn't respond but moved forwards to the side of the bed and stroked her hair, his face was expressionless, but she knew he was concerned; no doubt confused by her apparent lack of anger or remorse. She reached up a hand, touched him on his hand and smiled, "We did the right thing. Didn't we?" He looked puzzled, "You believe that?" She sat up slowly, nodding, "Yes. In the end it was the only thing that could happen." "But you seemed .." She interrupted, "upset? Yes, well since then, I have accepted what I did was for the best. I don't have any plans for going berserk or killing myself over her." She was calm, and sincere. "What's going to happen to me now?" she asked him. He didn't respond straight away, and his face told her nothing. When he finally replied, she was surprised, "Nothing. It has all been sorted out, it took a lot of fixing, but no culpable blame is being assigned." "So I can leave?" she asked calmly. "Later." He didn't look at her now, but she was patient, she would abide her time. Now was not the moment to show her true colours; that would wait, he had taught her that. Revenge would be a dish that was best served cold. "OK." She replied, "I need to freshen up, can I get a shower?" "I'll get someone to take you," another time in different circumstances she would have argued, but she stayed quiet, just nodding her agreement. She sat watching as he left the room, it was getting easier; it was like being an actor; taking on the role, the persona, the garb, leaving the true self behind, where it belonged. 20 minutes later the door opened and Nikita walked in, her blond hair shorter now, loose around her face. Saf noted how much more confidence she appeared to have now than when Operations had been in charge, when Nikita and she had competed for being the rebel most likely to be cancelled first. She smiled, but Nikita didn't return it. Instead, her voice was cold. "Michael told me to take you for a shower. He wants you to stay out of the main halls; instead you are to use the tower." She nodded, "Sure." Nikita waited silently, almost brooding, while she got out of the bed. She had to cling to the bed as her legs threatened to give way under her, but she was not prepared to show any weakness, instead she drew more strength from within and stood upright. Their journey to the tower was short, but it took a lot out of her, every opportunity she had of resting against a wall, she took, hiding her exhaustion from the woman accompanying her. Nikita waited outside while she showered, though she had to leave the door open under Nikita's instructions. The water was hot and it felt good to wash away the sweat and perspiration from her body. Clothes, vest and pants, had been laid out for her to wear, and as she towelled dry she looked around. This was her first visit to the tower; it was the preserve of head of Section, so now it was Michael and Nikita's home. It didn't seem much different to the rest of Section, grey and depressing. She combed through her hair, and pushed it behind her ears having nothing to tie it back with. She couldn't delay any more, and once she was dressed, she opened the door. Nikita was staring at her with a sullen expression on her face, "You done?" she asked. Saf nodded, suddenly weary of the other woman's attitude, "Yes. Now where? Back to Medical?" Nikita's face darkened, "No, Michael wants you to stay here." "What in the tower?" she asked incredulously. "Yes." "Fine. Whatever." She replied, tired and irritated the offer of a bed was a good idea, though the thought of food would be even better. Nikita turned up the corridor, and then stood outside an open door, indicating for her to go within. Cautiously she walked in, it was more colourful in here, evidence of someone who also hated the grey walls of Section. It was fitted out with a couch, and a fireplace with a TV. An archway through to another section, showed a glimpse of a bedroom. The only thing not in evidence was a window of any sort, though at first sight it looked like a perfectly normal hotel suite. The door shut behind her, and she heard it lock. Unworried, she walked slowly around the room, picking up the items from the shelves and ledges. Small pieces of art, but no photo's, no personalisation, it was as though it was a show home. Yawning, she headed for the bedroom, and curling up on the huge bed she was asleep within minutes. **** 3rd June 2008 When she woke, Michael was standing at the bottom of the bed watching her. She smiled not quite awake, and yawned. "What time is it?" she asked. "10.00am" his voice was flat, emotionless and dull. "What's up Michael?" she asked calmly, wondering how she had slept so long. He threw her a jacket, "Come with me," he avoided her eyes. "Not until you tell me what's going on?" she had turned to sit on the bed and was staring at him. "You can't stay here," he moved towards her, and helped her to her feet, putting on the jacket. "Where are you taking me?" she asked. A dull sensation started spreading throughout her body, but numbly she followed him down the corridor and into the lift. He didn't speak, and there was no-one else to see their passing, it was as though they were ghosts passing through the hall of the dead, no doubt Anubis was waiting to weigh her soul and condemn her. He opened the door to van-access and a car was waiting. To her surprise, he opened the passenger door for her, she stepped in, and put on her seat belt while he shut the door and walked around to the driver's seat. He didn't say very much, concentrating on driving. She watched him, he was covering up something, that blank expression was deliberate, but trying to get it out of him was going to be a difficult enough task. She sat back in the seat, and closed her eyes; she was not going to waste her time on the impossible. When the car finally stopped, she smiled, no matter what was going to happen next she was not going to worry about it. She opened her eyes and saw Michael staring at her, "We are here." She looked about her; the sun was low in the horizon so they had driven some distance from Paris. Her surroundings were a small airfield, and she saw a Lear jet was waiting on the stand. She looked at it, puzzled, "I don't understand." He turned her to face him, "This will take you anywhere you choose. You are free." She said nothing; she would never be free, could never, she corrected herself. "Saf, you can start again. A new life, a different name," he passed her an envelope, "this is details of a bank account, it has five million dollars in it, and it's yours." She didn't take it; instead she looked away from him into the evening sky. Not speaking, just thinking through her options before giving him her response, "I didn't do it for the money. I didn't even do it for revenge. I did it because she was truly evil, and because it was the right thing to do." She looked at him, studying the truth in those green eyes of his, as cold as hers were. They were so much alike, like two halves of the same mould; she had admired him once, a long time ago, but no longer, "I don't have a future, not as a normal person, Section took care of that. I am a killer," she paused, "and I enjoy it; that's the truth. So you see Michael, I don't have a chance of making it on the outside because I will return to my roots, and you couldn't allow that." He didn't say anything. The silence lengthened, and finally he broke her gaze, she knew now what she had to do. Her words were quiet, "I want to go back to the SIA. Not because I belong there, but because I don't think either Section or Oversight would tolerate me, would they?" He shook his head, "No." "No, as in which question are you answering?" she quipped. "You can't come back," he said simply, "it wouldn't work. Operatives can't have the freedom that you demand; the organisation couldn't function on those terms." "and Nikita wouldn't like it," she said softly, "though when did she start to feel threatened by me?" He shrugged, "She is jealous, the time I spent with you, she thinks we have something going on." Saf giggled, the sound odd in the tense atmosphere, "Now that would be practically incestuous. You and I .. No way." She provoked a smile from him, his eyes crinkled at the corner, "I tried to explain, but she doesn't see the big picture." His smile vanished, "Saf, I want you to promise me something, you seem fine now but if you have any problems anything at all, I want you to ring me." She stared at him, `when hell freezes over first,' but she stalled him with her response "if you like." Her words were calm but she had no intentions of making any promise like that, if she could help it. "No, you have to give me your word." He gripped her arms, "I need you to promise me." He had used her to suit his own purposes, him and Joshua. Neither of them had considered the consequences of whether or not she would survive the process. Once they had started on their path they had been committed; she had had no such choice. The bitterness threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced it down, this was not the time or the place for her to demonstrate her strength of feelings about it; that would better at a time and place of her choosing. Having gained control of her emotions, she turned to face him her expression hiding her true feelings, "I promise, if I have a problem, I will contact you." He nodded, his eyes searching for the hidden truths but she knew they were well hidden, "Thank you." She stepped out of the car, and walked towards the plane without a backward glance. She wasn't free yet, but she would be eventually. For the moment she was going home, back to her old life, back to being a killer. **** The flight was luxurious, no sooner had they taken off than a meal was served. She was the only passenger, but she didn't take much looking after, despite sleeping well last night, she slept on the way home. Newark Airport 14.15hrs The jet landed on a private stand, and she was met at the steps by Rebecca and Gray. She didn't say very much, letting them take the initiative. They led the way to a limo, and delivered her back to the SIA headquarters. She was quiet during the journey through the early morning traffic, she didn't have any thing to say, content to be conveyed in silence. 15.00hrs Rebecca led the way to her office, Saf followed without a word, she was curious to know what they knew and by cooperating with them she hoped they would tell her everything. "Coffee?" Rebecca was holding a flask. "Why not?" she responded quietly. Rebecca poured a mug and offered milk, which she declined. She took the mug and sipped at the hot liquid, feeling the warmth spread internally, but failing to penetrate her shield. "Michael told me some of the events of the past couple of days. He suggested that you might experience some difficulties, flashbacks." Rebecca's voice was tense, Saf could hear it, was she concerned that the maverick in front of her would go berserk and kill at random? "I accept what I have done, and I don't have a problem with it, but if I do experience any `problems' I have promised to call him." She replied, trying to diffuse the situation. "He also suggested that you shouldn't be alone, Paige is here, in the lounge, waiting to take you home with her; Michael said it would be best." `Best for whom?' she wanted to spit out, but as she was about to protest she realised that was what they were expecting. Instead she nodded her acceptance, there was no need for protesting; words were unnecessary under the present circumstances. "Is that all?" she asked quietly. Rebecca looked at her. Saf could see her struggling to make sense of what she saw, and knew that she didn't have a clue about what she was seeing. Finally Rebecca nodded, "I will ring you in a few days." Saf stood up, and walked away, she paused at the door turning back to look at Rebecca, "Thank you, for meeting me off the plane," she smiled as she walked through the door, leaving a confused woman behind her. **** Paige was standing by one of the tall windows in the lounge; Saf hesitated on the doorway, before drawing a deep breath and walking towards her. "Paige." Her words sounded small in the large room, but it was enough to get the other woman's attention. "Saf," the smile on her face faltered, but Paige walked over and enfolded her in her arms. Return |
||