"Well, you don't know how to read the eyes through a gate of steel, huh..."
"Bit.."
"Too late."
She used all her abdominal muscles as she twisted her legs, locked around the leg of baldy. A loud crack.
It was now at a very strange angle.
And, he wasn't breathing. Good.
Isabelle panted, her breathing rhythm accelerated by the rush of adrenaline...
--
An entire week passed before she finally decided to act. Enough to make the man think she became vulnerable. Despite his impressive intelligence and strength, badly boasted such an immense ego, he was certain she was cracking down toward the end...
And, then, beginning to underestimate your foe become a very dangerous activity, especially when it is a White Wolf, wasn't it...
During this week, Isabelle was tortured - more for baldy' and his crew of pirates' personal amusement rather than anything else.
"I like punching bags, especially when they scream."
"Beside, I really have no other use of you. We'll let you... less or more intact for the moment, as our hostage. I'm not sure if they will want to bargain at all for your life, girl, but if anything I learnt, money is the power 'round here... so I might as well make a little stash out of ya'."
And he followed his little statement with another mug of she-didn't-want-to-know-what liquor.
--
So, for a week, no one did anything for her. The operation was apparently called off, everyone evacuated the station, save herself.
She tried to pretend this didn't mind her at all - but fact was, it was painful. Painful to know they abandoned her.
Oh, she didn't really mind dying. Sometime, she secretly wished she wasn't alive. This was how the White Wolf erased the fear of death to their soldiers. And at a same time, you instill in them, a certain dark joy, aggressiveness at killing, something to stimulate their emotions. And eventually, it becomes a drug. A White Wolf lives only because he wants to kill, inflict pain. He does not fear death or pain, but left without the action, a White Wolf slowly dies by itself...
Still. She was a new Wolf. She hoped... secretly, for herself, someone out there, thought about her, and would try to rescue her. That someone, cared for her.
But, no. No one.
And that was what angered her, gave her the energy to survive. She didn't wanted to admit this, but she lived for an entire week, fuelled by an anger against her own people...
It shielded rather well against every bruises baldy could do against her, and although she screamed freely in pain - but never, never would she beg for mercy.
And then, that day, as he unlocked the door to her cell for another session of pain, she propelled her legs, and like giant twin snake heads, locked themselves over his neck. He was too surprised at this, unable to believe the prey still had any combatant strength in her after that week where he amused himself, breaking her down to nothingness...
And he died, a look of anger and deep shock in his face.
--
Finding the key wasn't too hard. Manacles usually had one single type for a certain serial type; generic restraining system. She found one in the belt of the dead man, and freed herself with ease, despite her broken body. If you clenched your teeth, and focused on a single task at a time, pain would only become an efficient stimulus, instead of a blinding one that took your living breath with it.
A blaster was found, and without really knowing what she did, she checked casually the magazine, making sure it was fully loaded, and even simply shot in the middle of the man' face. She didn't looked away when the smoke disappeared, and the horror image of a half melted human skull appeared to her.
And then slowly, reality struck her, as she smelled the burnt meat, heard the noise of human skin being carbonized into crisps...
She looked away, stood weakly on her four.
Tried to vomit, but she didn't had anything in her stomach to let go.
--
Now... the mission never ended, didn't it...
Primary objective; go...
"p... please!"
Isabelle twitched the blade slightly tighter against the man' neck, her cold cyan eyes reflected in the stainless steel blade.
"Silence. Speak at a lower volume. Now, tell me where is the computer that stores all the data of importance aboard this station. Tell me, and you will live."
"I... I don't kn aah!!"
Isabelle pushed the knife a bit more against his delicate skin. He was quite young, especially for a rogue. Probably the son of pirate parents. She wouldn't give him more than 17.
...
She wasn't older than 17 when she enlisted...
A shame he was on the other side of the law...
But did he really have any choice?
"Don't try to lie to me. You are a technician. You know the position of all the computer and data storage terminals."
"H... how do you know!?"
"I retained the face and the intelligence of all the personnel aboard this station that might be of use to my mission. Now, tell me, or your blood will be on the floor before you can scream."
This time, the boy didn't put up any resistance.
They wandered for many minutes in the corridors, encountering no one.
And then, two guards appeared, walking, chatting humorously. They just came out from a door on the other side of the corridor, and were more than surprised to see their local technician being escorted...
By a woman in a urban camouflage armour.
"Ah...!!!"
One shot. Two.
Two mass fell down on the ground with a muted sound and the clatter of their blaster rifles, half drawn.
"Oh my g...!!" the boy whispered. But Isabelle was faster, and pushing her hand over his mouth.
"Quiet. Continue."
--
There wasn't much she could do, but she knew exactly what section of the storage disk she needed. Isabelle inserted a memory card in the data terminal, downloaded the files, and, all was over.
These extortion files that were about to be sold to Rheinland government by the rogues, won't land in the wrong hands anymore.
The boy looked at her, miserable.
"They will kill me for that..."
She left the room, leaving the kid to his own fate.
Liberty? No such thing as freedom. I'm sorry, young boy. You didn't deserved this. But I have no choice.
Isabelle watched silently as the station was blown to nothingness by a Liberty cruiser battlegroup. No survivors; all enemy space crafts that managed to evacuate the station were shot down by the deadly guns of the silvery behemoth warships.
Captain Adamas resumed the debriefing as the light came back;
"Enemy causalities estimated around 750, judging by the size of this installation. No fatalities, prisoners on our side, only a single injured."
"All in all, mission is officially over and has resulted into success."
--
"Sir?"
Adamas was cleaning up his multiple blaster rifles, a meticulous work that required much patience and attention. Isabelle admired the delicate playing of the man' hands over the cold pieces of metal that delivered death; it was nearly with a loving attention he gave himself to the task.
"What is it Isa?"
She didn't quite understood why she blushed. After all, they were off duty at the moment - one of those rare moments among the Wolves where they could actually relax. In those time, it was usual for soldiers, in every units she served, to use more familiar, intimate ways to address at each others, no matter the ranks.
But, and she knew it was intended, she could never feel close to the men of the squadron.
So why...
"You wanted to ask me something?" Adamas repeated in a soft voice.
"... sir, the station we destroyed... they had kids aboard."
"I am aware of this."
Isa looked up from her own dismantled blaster rifle, startled.
"You..."
Adamas didn't answered, seemingly absorbed by his task. Sometime, they would share their experience of wars, and Isabelle would always be disturbed by how the captain would talk about death in such a casual manner, it was nearly disturbing to her ears.
And yet at the same time, she herself committed acts of incredible cruelty - but she preferred never mention about these.
"Isa, when you want to reach an objective, sometime you have to run over many obstacles... let us take, for example, a good, well intended politician, high placed at the hierarchy."
He sighed slowly, picked up the barrel of the rifle and inspected inside. Shook his head and continued inserting the cleaning brush.
"He knows, his plans and projects will bring good to the citizens of Liberty at long term. But for this, he has to sacrifice some poorer elements of this society. For the purpose of my story, let's say, this group of abandoned elements, are the future Rogues and Xenos."
"Now, he has the choice to either enrich the people of Liberty, and sacrifice his conscience and innocence for the future detritus his projects will bring, or, watch his nation crumble slowly."
"Isa, to the wolves, child, men, women, of all ages, with or without handicap, are human beings. You joined the wolves, because you wanted to do something significant to this world. You are bright, because you understood, in this sick, lowly human society we created, only death can bring changes. There is no such thing as democracy, votes, rules or codes."
"Changes, are only determined by how many human beings you are ready to sacrifice. This, an old President had enough guts to understand it. He died, hated, but he died knowing an entire nation owed him."
"We will be hated, Isa. We will be despised, but we are making a difference in this world of illusion."
"And, how can we be sure we aren't only creating more illusions for ourselves... sir?"
"This Isa, depends only of your own perception."
She sighed slightly, and moved away from the comm device.
Nearly an entire year within the squadron, and she had yet to communicate a single time with her family.
Every time, she ran the same, short scenario in her head. This simple question from her father, a mere polite formality of a question just to engage conversation, and she couldn't answer this.
How are you?
Hi dad, I have murdered up to now directly or indirectly half a million of men, women and children confounded. My hands are stained with dried blood, it hurts when I move them around. Every little muscle I move seems one more life I take away.
Maybe I should just take away my life.
Am I fighting for democracy, justice and order?
I can't recall.
I think I did signed up for this anyhow...
Two junior lieutenant went by her, and saluted her briefly. She returned the respect.
Yes, she managed to "make her name" in the Wolves. They've been through so much together - or, individually, since they were a pack of lone wolves. Relying on each others, yet not at all.
It was a unit of individualism, personal achievement.
She understood it was a way to push them further toward the path of perfection, that was, to push them against each others.
Yet it was a unit relying on the success of each and everyone of its member, no matter the hierarchy. In this, they were all equal.
But should you fall down the step, none will come to your rescue.
She checked her watch before entering the office. 2240. 5 minutes before timing, but the automated door slid open anyway. She stepped in, the door closed abruptly behind her, reminding of bad horror movies.
Isabelle took it as a bad sign of what was going to follow.
As usual, the captain Adamas was absorbed behind his eternal paper work on his datapad. She often wondered just exactly what was taking so much of the man' time.
She saluted,
"Sir. Lieutenant Kaitlynn reporting as ordered."
"At ease. Take a seat, Isa."
Again, the familiar use of her nickname. She noticed he applied it only to her alone, all the other soldiers were being addressed by their rank and last name. Was the man trying to get favor from her - certainly not. His tone was so blank, so devoid of emotions... He never stared at her longer than necessary, and they certainly didn't shared much except a same dormitory. Which didn't meant much in the Wolves.
She sat down.
Adamas finally shut down the datapad, taking all his time, and at last, looked at her. Straight in her eyes.
It was a test of will every time, for her to not look away from these intense, dark eyes, full of control, strength, discipline... so, full of... cold calculations, nearly... no, literally, evil sometime...
"I thought it would be good for you to warn you before we proceeded to this next... operation."
Isabelle was stunned. There were not a single operations projected since weeks.
"Sir... what operation?"
"This one."
Eerily, Isabelle saw Adamas bring up at amazing speed a service blaster from his uniform, aim at her at point blank range, and shoot.
The world went very white.
"All system in the green. Proceed to the next step."
"Understood. Procedure Charlie One, running."
[...]
"Why her? She had a lot of potential."
"So does everyone in this squadron."
"You certainly didn't handpicked her by pure hazard."
"And you certainly aren't concerned about her health on a professional level."
The general starred at this cold hearted captain, for a moment unable to speak.
"Indeed. You might have no humanism, but I still do. I do not approve of this."
"In any event, it is not of your competency to choose the candidate, sir. I have my reasons for choosing Kaitlyn. None of them need to be revealed to you."
"Really? Captain, I remind you I am in charge of this project, and I have full authorization to interrupt it."
"On what ground will you stop an experiment authorized by the Core?"
This time, the general remained shut.
--
It was in a world of pain she woke up. From a very white world, it was now a... translucent bluishh world. Most dizzying.
And then, there was this perpetual pain that woke her up, that numbed her body. Her mind was confused, barely able to give command to her body.
Pain grew stronger and stronger. It felt somewhat good from time to time, it woke her from the numbness.
And then it went so strong, had she had any energy, she would have screamed.
And then pain won over her, and she was sent to unconsciousness again.
--
"You are aware these nanomachines might kill her."
"I know." Captain Adamas didn't looked the least bothered by the thousand of facts the general was sputtering to him.
"These weren't designed for a female body, either. Why are you taking so much risk?"
"Might as well see what result does it gives."
He looked away from the hordes of technicians working behind their consoles back toward the experimental pod in the center of the room. A large tube filled with a bluish liquid - hyper-oxygenated water to avoid any risk of contamination. Inside, floated the nude body of Isabelle. A body connected by a good number of nodes to the upper section of the pod, as if she was being sucked away from her life by some mechanical monster. It wasn't a very beautiful sight. Any normal human being would have understood the concerns of the general at putting her in this pod - especially, unwillingly.
Few looked toward the pod. The reason anyone could see through it was just to make sure the test subject wasn't dying without the sensors noticing fast enough. And no one wanted to see that.
But Adamas stared, wordless but also, emotionless.
"So, tell me general, assuming success of the experience, what are we to expect?"
Isabelle opened slightly an eye, than another. She was still in the strange blue water...
"Well, we are injecting an experimental medical nanomachine within her body. In theory, they..."
She suddenly widened her eyes, arched her body as waves of pain hit her. In the background, some alerted technician began to look nervous. Others simply ignored what was going on, focusing their attention on their work. Someone yelled, "Injection level one, initiating."
"In theory, they will release chemicals at precise point within her body to enhance her immunity system resistance."
The breather to which she was connected hid most of her face, otherwise, people would have been able to read all the pain even from behind the distance of their console. But Adamas saw clearly, through the blue oxygen water, through Isabelle' soft cyan eyes, all the torture it was causing her. She arched her body violently once more, as the background voice yelled "Injection level two, beginning now!"
"... in fact, the efficiency delivered by these nanomachine is... above any previous experimental product developed yet. Because the nanomachines will know exactly at which position within the human body to deliver the chemicals, and exactly the concentration..."
Her eyes showed terror and pain beyond any measure, as she tried to fight against, but her hands and legs were held solidly by metallic shackles, and her movement in the water were all but slowed down. The third phase was announced.
"... we have reasons to believe the subject will be fully immunized against all known chemical and bacteriological weapons... in addition, they will... "upgrade" the body of said subject... by replacing minor organic components... with... bio-AI components... a.. and also. Provoke genetic mutation that we believe will enhance general fighting ability of test subject, through the exposure at very small frequency to radiation on certain areas of the body."
"All in all, we are beginning to see the next generation of super soldier, genetically engineered." Captain Adamas concluded.
She wiped off the blood from her armored knuckles. The whole place had a somewhat... brownish, red coloration everywhere...
Raised the ballistic visors from her helmet a bit, as she searched for an intact console. There was only one left, a closed one, which required a password to access its system.
She tried various combination of override associated to Rheinland military operational code, but none of them worked.
She didn't had the time to open up the panel of the computer and mess with it... chance were, it was booby trapped anyway. And because there was a much easier way.
She looked around the room, and found it; he was the one with the insignias of colonel. Turned the corps around. She was pleased, her rampage didn't damaged his face too much, and his still eyes were intact. She snatched the right eye, and pulled it off violently, but softly enough as to not crush the eyeball in her clutch. Went back to the console, and passed the eyeball right across the iris identification device.
All the files opened up...
She plugged a small storage disk-like device on the console, which began to download everything from the database...
--
Isabelle went down to the first floor. By then, she changed herself, back to her businesswoman outfit, the sets of her armor carefully detached into several unsuspecting components into her traveling bag. To any police officer, they would looks like pieces of a modular mattress of some sort.
The Finance Tower of Hamburg saw a lot of business everyday after all. This was probably just another strange product, the officer inspecting her bag thought.
She smiled pleasantly to the man as he let her go.
A few minutes after she departed, the alarm in the building began to go off wildly...
By then, she was already gone in a taxi, her wig removed and quickly and carefully disposed by fire, her outfit, changed once again, and the content of her bag transferred to another. It took a few long and painful seconds to remove the facial mask, but once it was done, the real Isabelle Kaitlyn appeared behind.
She looked at herself in the mirror...
--
"...soldier, genetically engineered."
--
"Madam? We are at our destination." the chauffeur said. He was a lesser operative of the libertonian security forces.
Isabelle realized she's been looking at the mirror of the taxi craft for quite a few minutes, sitting still. She woke up.
"a.. ah yes."
She took control of herself in the matter of a few seconds.
"Thank you sir."
She paid the due amount and left to the suit she was living in at the Hamburg Hotel.
Slightly disturbed.
That flashback...
To when did it date back already?
![[Image: audrey03a.png]](http://img714.imageshack.us/img714/7610/audrey03a.png)