01-17-2018, 05:23 PM
Poised on the edge of a cliff, every muscle in Jay's body was tense when he was yanked from the vehicle. Sounds of the road had ceased. The air was stagnant on the skin of his hands. A garage. Maybe underground. His eyes dazed somewhere distant. More voices. They weren't exactly whispering. Three men. No, four. Strong footsteps. Confident movements. Two were on each side. The one at his right held his upper arm, leading the blind along. The one on his left had hold of his elbow. It didn't seem like long enough of a drive to leave Moscow.
Time to start talking. "This some kind of gulag?"
Jay asked.
The voice at his right laughed. "Something like that."
The yank on his arm sparked electricity through his shoulder. He bit back a cringe.
The group stopped walking. Some kind of whirring hissed. Then two loud thunks and the whoose of maglocks opening. The hell? He was pushed across some kind of treshold. Cold air blasted the sweat on the back of his neck.
"This is Carpenter?"
A woman's voice asked. Her accent was tilted British, her words crisp and to the point.
"Yes, ma'am. Carpenter, Jay. American. Twenty-five years old. Former U.S. special forces. Current employee of Legion Premiere. "
Jay's jaw dropped. The CCD kept tabs on their visitors like a good dictatorship.
The woman continued. "A channeler?"
"Yes, ma'am. That is what we were told."
"What you were told?"
There was a concerning hint of surprise in her question.
"Thank you, agents. We will take it from here."
Agents. Channeler? His jaw tightened. How deep did the Atharim plunge into the government? Ascendancy renounced them himself, yet they were inside the heart of his world. Shouldn't they be putting a bullet in his head right about now?
Time for compliance was over. "Who are you people?"
He demanded, not that he was in the best position to levy demands.
"Take his hood off."
"Captain? Are you sure? He could be dangerous."
"A mask doesn't change that. Do it."
He was answered with a flash of bright light. The bag was taken from his face. The outline of a woman in a white doctor's coat came into view. The Captain they spoke of? She had a stately appearance about her, and wore an army uniform in Custody colors. An army doctor. Harsh white lights beat down upon a slick walled corridor.
"Is this some kind of army base?"
He asked her.
She nodded and looked him over like he was a specimen under a microscope, "Something like that."
How did he know she would say that? "I'm sorry you've been treated this way Lieutenant, but it's procedure. You understand? As is this."
She turned as an assistant handed her a small device, which she promptly put to his shoulder. He didn't cringe when the jet injector pinched their drug into the muscle. A guy didn't join the marines without getting about two hundred shots over the course of a couple of years. Of course, they didn't usually make his head swim within moments.
He started to put a hand to his temple, only to realize they were trapped behind his back. When he was led away, he tried to make himself resist it, but his legs were jello. He happily collapsed on some kind of bed. The handcuffs were removed and the last thing he saw before sleep took over was the closure of a cell door.
((ooc: Torri written with permission)).
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jan 17 2018, 05:24 PM.
Time to start talking. "This some kind of gulag?"
Jay asked.
The voice at his right laughed. "Something like that."
The yank on his arm sparked electricity through his shoulder. He bit back a cringe.
The group stopped walking. Some kind of whirring hissed. Then two loud thunks and the whoose of maglocks opening. The hell? He was pushed across some kind of treshold. Cold air blasted the sweat on the back of his neck.
"This is Carpenter?"
A woman's voice asked. Her accent was tilted British, her words crisp and to the point.
"Yes, ma'am. Carpenter, Jay. American. Twenty-five years old. Former U.S. special forces. Current employee of Legion Premiere. "
Jay's jaw dropped. The CCD kept tabs on their visitors like a good dictatorship.
The woman continued. "A channeler?"
"Yes, ma'am. That is what we were told."
"What you were told?"
There was a concerning hint of surprise in her question.
"Thank you, agents. We will take it from here."
Agents. Channeler? His jaw tightened. How deep did the Atharim plunge into the government? Ascendancy renounced them himself, yet they were inside the heart of his world. Shouldn't they be putting a bullet in his head right about now?
Time for compliance was over. "Who are you people?"
He demanded, not that he was in the best position to levy demands.
"Take his hood off."
"Captain? Are you sure? He could be dangerous."
"A mask doesn't change that. Do it."
He was answered with a flash of bright light. The bag was taken from his face. The outline of a woman in a white doctor's coat came into view. The Captain they spoke of? She had a stately appearance about her, and wore an army uniform in Custody colors. An army doctor. Harsh white lights beat down upon a slick walled corridor.
"Is this some kind of army base?"
He asked her.
She nodded and looked him over like he was a specimen under a microscope, "Something like that."
How did he know she would say that? "I'm sorry you've been treated this way Lieutenant, but it's procedure. You understand? As is this."
She turned as an assistant handed her a small device, which she promptly put to his shoulder. He didn't cringe when the jet injector pinched their drug into the muscle. A guy didn't join the marines without getting about two hundred shots over the course of a couple of years. Of course, they didn't usually make his head swim within moments.
He started to put a hand to his temple, only to realize they were trapped behind his back. When he was led away, he tried to make himself resist it, but his legs were jello. He happily collapsed on some kind of bed. The handcuffs were removed and the last thing he saw before sleep took over was the closure of a cell door.
((ooc: Torri written with permission)).
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jan 17 2018, 05:24 PM.
Only darkness shows you the light.