09-13-2016, 09:44 PM
So what if Toni knew her father wanted a son to follow in his footsteps and got her instead? Didn't mean he loved her any less. And it also didn't mean that she couldn't be everything he wanted her to be. Daddy had big shoes to fill, and Toni was gonna do it. Of the 30 years he'd spent in the service, almost two-thirds of it was deployed on top secret missions. So she got to know him mostly through Skype calls and hastily penned letters from undisclosed locations. But Daddy had been on the team that had taken down bin Laden, the most wanted man ever before Toni was born. It was still a big thing when she came along and everyone still talked about what he'd done. And that was just one of the things she knew about.
So Daddy ran high op tempo, and so did she. Especially when he was home. The Colorado Rockies was a great place to get out and learn how to be fearless. Hiking, mountain climbing, hunting – she was already eight years old when he finally let her take down a deer. He even let her gut it. She sucked everything she could about the military out of Daddy's head. How to salute, the proper pushup form, how to field strip an M6 and why it was superior in every way to the M4, how to low crawl through brush and ignore the stickers...
So when he was gone, Toni tried to compete and win at everything. Sports games, spelling bee, whatever. She was gonna show Daddy her new trophy or medal when he next got the chance to call in. “America needs more winners,” he told her once. “We don't win anymore. We don't pick ourselves up off our feet anymore. Paul and Cruz tried. But there aren't enough winners out there. Sometimes people need to learn to embrace the suck. And there needs to be rough men ready to do violence for this great nation to keep it safe.” Then he'd mutter something about President Bullock and the CCD under his breath. “I'm getting too old for this Bullocking shit,” he said once. “Need to knock that CCD down a peg or two.”
When she was ten they relocated to southern Georgia. Fort Benning. The center of advanced warfighting development. Toni would go and watch the soldiers at Jump School. And she knew she'd do that one day. And it was around that time that things started looking up. Col. Track Palin got elected. Finally, one of the Army’s own was in office! There hadn't been a veteran in the presidency in almost fifty years. Even though he was an officer. She'd have preferred an NCO in the White House. But that was unlikely. They were too badly needed to do the work.
But then the war came. China was calling his bluff over Taiwan and they thought they'd finish their little people's revolution before he could take office. Daddy was called out again. Said it was an honor to fight wherever the country needed him. Other nations couldn't push America around. It wasn't about Taiwan, it was the principle of the matter. But this was no third world tinpot dictator. This was another first world nation. He left. And they waited on every word from the media. Toni was doing chin-ups in the yard when the officers came by. His helicopter had been struck by a rocket and gone down in the Taiwan Strait. They fished him out of the drink alive, but he probably wouldn't ever walk again.
They went to go visit Daddy in California. His face was purple and bruised, but it was still him. He was lying in a hospital bed. His spine had been severed at the lower vertebrae, and they'd had to amputate both of his legs above the knee and his left arm at the elbow. And yet he cracked a grin. “I think I'll retire now,” he said. “I gave this country both legs and an arm. I figure we're even.”
Daddy never did walk again, but Toni had the feeling that if he really wanted to he could. He hadn't let it defeat him so much as just made a compromise. Besides, they got to spend more time together. And that man was her biggest fan.
Columbus High School wouldn't let Toni play football. Said they didn't have a girls team, and that it would put her at an unfair disadvantage. Toni made things worse by losing her temper. But Daddy intervened. Guilted by an amputee veteran, the school reconsidered and let her play. And it was a good thing, too. She turned out to be much nimbler than the boys and could take a hit just as well as anyone else. She only broke a couple of bones during her high school career. Besides, she was in better shape than half the defensive line. Her drive to win made her an excellent quarterback, and she drove the Blue Devils to the state championship, where unfortunately she managed to get herself benched in the fourth quarter for getting into a shouting match with the referee over a pass ruled incomplete, which led to them losing the game34-31.
Toni's propensity for fouling herself out of the game turned her off to any college recruiters. But that was just as well, because she had one destination in mind. The U.S. Army Ranger School. Benning's where I want to be. Hooah!
The combat forces had long been open to women, but there had only been a handful of women in twenty years who were able to meet the standards of the Rangers. Toni's mother threw a fit when she announced on her 18th birthday that she was skipping college and enlisting. She had taken Daddy's injuries very hard. “I don't want you coming back to me like this too!” she weeped. Daddy had to calm her down. He was proud of Toni's decision, and that was what mattered. Besides, Daddy couldn't fight anymore and someone had to carry on. Her mother would end up leaving the first year Toni was gone from the home, anyway. Couldn't hack it.
Fast forward to week eleven of 11X – Special Forces candidate One Unit Station Training. They had rucked it twelve miles to do a night infiltration course. Once she graduated she would go on to Ranger school. Six of the soldiers in her platoon had already fallen out on this road march. Lightning in the sky and the winds were picking up. Pretty soon it started pouring. There was a forecast for a tropical storm to move through. The drill sergeants decided to do the exercise anyway. Of those who graduated OUST, over 40% of those would fail Ranger School, 65% of them in RAP week. So they didn't do anyone any favors by going easy on them.
“Let's go Privates. You think you gonna be a Ranger? Gonna be Special forces! Special Snowflake my Ass! Get in my mud!”
yelled the drill sergeant. “Low crawl! Low Crawl!”
Drill Sergeant Harris was a grizzled Haitian infantryman who could barely be understood in good conditions. The man could move like a puma. “Low crawl in that shit to your objective!”
Toni threw herself down into the mud. Her nose had been running for hours now and there was probably fluid in her lungs. She coughed to clear her throat. She was pretty sure she had a fever. The barracks crud had been hounding her for a couple of days now, but there was no way she was going to go to sick call and risk getting recycled. Not when she was so close to graduating. One hand went reassuringly to the metal cord around her neck. Yeah, her daddy's dog tags were still there, secure. They'd been a good luck charm so far. She wrapped her M6 sling around her forearm to keep the muzzle out of the mud and laid her helmet down so to crawl under the barbed wire. There was like a hundred yards to go. “Perez! I said get that helmet down! Low crawl! Fuck your pretty hair! Think some CCD puke gonna care? Chinese shit gonna care? Bury that shit in the mud!”
“Yes, drill sergeant!”
she yelled and dug the rim of her helmet as far down as it could go. It was dragging in the mud now, and only the divot it made gave her room to breathe. The rain was pouring down and soaking her everywhere. She was in the lead. This was the last part of the course. But if her battle buddy didn't make it also, she'd feel like she'd let him down. She got to the objective first and pulled herself out of the muck, then saw her battle buddy bowed down in it. She hobbled over to pull him out. His ruck was full of mud and there was a nasty gash from the barbed wire across his cheek.
“Come on Johnson, we got to get over that wall. That's it!”
she said. Her buddy looked about ready to tap out. She slung her M6 around her back and helped him grab the rope that dangled from the eight-foot barrier, and pushed. Johnson couldn't get his feet under him. “Just hold on,”
she yelled, and scrambled to the top of the wall herself, and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him. “Don't give up on me!”
she yelled. He was trying, sure. But he wasn't digging deep enough. His eyes rolled back and he breathed hard.
Toni strained and strained. Please, please, please, just a little more!
Even so she knew she was going to fail. Daddy, help!
She touched her dog tags.
There was a rumble and a snapping sound. The earth lurched. The barrier suddenly careened toward Toni. She leaped off of it as it fell into the mud. Johnson got to his knees, holding his head. “What just happened?”
“I don't know,”
Toni said. “It must have broken. But let's go ring the bell! We're the first ones done!”
She grabbed him and they stumbled together to the bell.
They never made it. “Privates! What the hell did you do to my wall?”
Drill Sergeant Harris was right on them. “Half-right face! Front lean and rest position, move!”
Toni threw herself down into the pushup position, her hands sinking deep into the slimy mud. A pool of water had gathered beneath her.
“In cadence! One, two, three....”
Toni started pushing and sounding off pushups. Every time she went down, water ran down inside her BDUs from her neck to her navel. Sand had gotten into her bra. She had to time her breaths or she’d end up choking. Everything burned. Yet somehow she had a little more strength to give.
“Answer me! What did you do to my wall? Keep pushing Johnson!”
Her buddy had collapsed and was on his back. Toni kept pushing. “No explanation, Drill Sergeant! It just broke!”
Yeah, she was going to get pneumonia from this for sure.
“Is that the case, Perez? Well since your buddy didn't make it you can push for both of them! Does that suck enough for you?”
She sputtered out a cough as she continued. “I like the way this sucks, Drill Sergeant!”
“Oh yeah, Perez?”
The drill sergeant shook his head and dropped to the prone position himself in one fluid movement. “Halfway down!” He demonstrated. “How about I make it suck a little more?”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant!”
They both dropped to the halfway position. Her arms quaked and the ruck on her back threatened to give way. “Please make it suck some more!”
And she started laughing. And you know what? It was awfully hard to laugh when getting smoked. But it was possible.
Nine months later
So there was a way for things to suck more. Isn't that just the shit to make it all the way through Ranger School and get her green beret, only to get outed for the Sickness before getting her assignment? She knew it was fucking Johnson who did it. Damn blue falcon. Well, no use crying over spilt milk. She'd thought her career was over and made plans to start fighting for it tooth and nail. Instead she got called into her XO's office. 2Nd Lt. Richardson called her to attention. He wasn't all that bad. For a butterbar officer, of course. The man had gone green to gold so he must be all right, though why someone would want to do that was beyond her.
She gave Lt. Richardson a salute. “You wanted to see me sir?”
He returned it. “Private First Class Perez.”
He looked down at a file. “You were top graduate at OUST. Top graduate of Ranger School. Scored a 299 out of 300 on your last record APFT. On the male score chart.”
“No excuse for coming in at a 13:02 on the two mile, sir,”
she said. That 299 still bothered her. So what if she had fallen because of unexplained loss of coordination?
Lt. Richardson grunted. “How long have you had it?”
Toni bit back a grimace. “Since OUST, sir. Week twelve.”
He grimaced. “That long? You should have reported it. It is your duty to report any deficiency that might keep you from completing your mission, soldier. Failure to do this is punishable under the UCMJ.”
Damnit. He was right. “No excuse, sir. Only that it did not keep me from completing the mission.”
He laughed. “I'll say. You know, you aren't the first person to have come down with the Sickness in our ranks. But we haven't... um... well, only a few have been of your caliber. And you could be a vital asset to our ranks. But people are talking about, well, weird stuff happening around you.”
Toni said nothing. Imaginations of sore losers, probably.
She waited at parade rest. Lt. Richardson glanced down at his desk. “I have two forms here. One is a request for a medical board. The other are travel orders.”
“Sir.”
Toni interjected as respectfully as she could. “A medical board is just out of the question. Besides, I haven't had any symptoms for weeks, now.”
Most of the stuff was harmless, anyway. She took the travel orders. Boise? Third Psychological Operations Battalion? What the hell was in frikkin' Boise? “Where am I going? Does this mean I'm not in the Rangers anymore?”
The officer shook his head. “I don't know anything about any future assignments. The CO appealed the automatic medical board to the higher ups and this is what came back down the channel. I haven't the faintest clue why. And I was told to ask no questions. But you graduated Ranger school. As long as you stay in you're qualified to be assigned to any battalion. But you want to stay in the Army, you take the assignment.”
She frowned. “But --”
Lt. Richardson glared at her. “Stay in your lane, Private. You have been ordered not to ask any questions or tell anyone where you are going.”
“Yes, sir.”
Toni snapped back to parade rest.
He gave a small smile. “Your performance at the Ranger school has been among the finest.”
The smile disappeared. “Now you are PCSing tomorrow. You have 24 hours to clear post. Get the hell out my office.”
<big>Camp Hoover
Somewhere in Idaho
December, 2044</big>
So this place was beyond weird. Like Area 51 weird. She was half expecting the crashed flying saucer from Roswell to show up here. Toni was sure that Daddy would have told her about a place like this if he'd ever been there. On the other hand, maybe not. She'd been picked up in Boise and moved to three different vehicles, and blindfolded to boot. There was no way she would have been able to figure out how to get to the location. Upon arrival there wasn't much to see. Just a cluster of barracks buildings. Probably a big back 40 range. She heard aircraft and helicopters. Saw drones, too. Lots and lots of drones. She was pretty sure that someone was always watching her.
Her in-processing brief consisted of her with one other person, Navy chief petty officer Marcus Waltman. His biceps looked like a couple of tree trunks and he had the trident of the SEALs emblazoned on his digital camo print. “Let's get one thing straight, soldier,” he told her. “You were never here. Officially, this place doesn't exist. When you are done here and reassigned elsewhere, you. Were. Never. Here. If you die here – and that is a high probability – your family will never know the truth about what happened to you. If knowledge of what we do here ever got out it would cause an international incident. You are here for one reason, and that's to turn you into a weapon that can be used against America's enemies in a way that will make Ranger School look like the Girl Scouts. What you get in return is the privilege to undergo the worst, most hardcore training that will eat your soul and suck like nothing has ever sucked before.”
“Right, Chief,”
Toni replied. Somebody was screaming not far away. “So what, this is like super secret Delta Force?”
The chief laughed – a maniacal howl that ripped through her heart.
Toni was kept segregated from the rest of the group there. She eventually lost track of time. There was probably a population of 1000 or so at the camp, based on the apparent size of it and the platoons she saw running by. But she was an army of one. She ate by herself and had no interaction with anyone other than base staff. Lots of doctors. There were a lot of doctors. Her first week was nothing but getting poked and prodded. Bunch of psychobabble questions too. When she asked what it was for, they said nothing.
On her eighth day she was sent to a small room with two chairs and a table in the center. She sat down at one. A major walked through the door. She snapped to attention. “Sit down, sit down,”
the man said. He was small and balding, with thick spectacles and a mousey voice. “I am Major Carl Kinnick of the 3rd Psychological Operations Battalion. I am a doctor of psychiatry. Do you know what Psyops do during wartime?”
Toni shrugged. “They disseminate truthful information about our military operations to foreign populations, specifically in enemy controlled areas, in order to reduce enemy effectiveness and enhance the success of our military mission.”
The major nodded. “That is the definition you were told in Ranger School, yes. In order to be successful at this we must be able to get into the minds of the enemy and the minds of the population. So we can remove psychological barriers to the truth. Do you see now what you are doing here?”
Okay. This guy was Hannibal Lecter weird. “Sir? No one has told me anything. And no, I don't understand. What are you getting at?”
“Hm.”
He jotted down some notes. “Tell me about your upbringing and your family life.”
Major Kinnick sure asked her a bunch of questions. The session lasted all morning. He was purposely intent on finding out her fears. Toni didn't like that much. Especially since she didn't have anything to be afraid of. He asked a lot about the Sickness. What she had experienced. If there was anything odd that happened with her, or around her. Any siblings. As the morning went into the afternoon, Toni began to wonder what all this was for, and finally said as much.
“Have you heard of a phenomenon called psychokinesis?”
he asked. Toni shook her head. Psycho what? The major put a shiny metal weight on the table. The stamp on it said 1 Lb. “Pick it up.”
As Toni reached over to grab it, he smacked her hand. “No, pick it up.”
She reached for it again, and the same effect. “Pick it up.”
Okay, so this was some sort of mind game. She could figure it out. Maybe she was supposed to refuse the order. That earned another smack.
The door opened and CPO Waltman came in. He fixed her arms to the side of the chair. Major Kinnick stuck something on each of her temples. Electrodes. He took her dog tags. Daddy's dog tags. Why did she tell him about those? They were her good luck charm. Waltman stood behind her.
“Pick up the weight,”
he said again. Okay. He must be trying to make her snap. This must be an attempt to break her. She shook her head. “Pick up the weight.”
She stayed quiet and motionless. Then a current ripped through her body and her muscles clenched. “Pick up the weight.”
“Why are you doing this?”
she asked. Again, voltage ripped through her. God, but it hurt! “I don't understand the order,”
she whimpered. Again. What did he want from her? What was she supposed to do? How could she do it right and make it stop? What have I gotten myself into?
“I don't understand the order, sir!”
“All you have to do is pick up the weight.”
A knife flipped open and fabric started to tear. That's about the time the sound of her own screams drowned everything else out. The whole world exploded.
* * *
Some time later after Toni regained consciousness, she found herself in a box. That's the only way she could describe it. It was dark, and quiet. She couldn't quite stand up, and if she put her arms out she could touch both walls. A prison. Or coffin. There was air aplenty but nothing else. She felt her way around the box. It was pure metal with no easily noticeable seams. She pounded on it. Solid. Tried to push the metal out. Nothing. Ten men couldn't have budged it. So if she wasn't supposed to escape, the objective must have been to torture her. Yes. That's what they were trying to do to her. Torture her. That’s what all the other stuff had been. They wanted to see her break. They wanted to find out if they could break her. Because she would be no use to the country if she could be broken. So fine. They wanted to throw more stuff at her? Go for it. Not like they could do much worse to her. All she had to do was embrace the suck.
Hour after hour passed. She breathed in and out evenly. She did her best to relieve herself in one corner, though there really wasn't anything to hold it in one place. They didn't bring food or water, either. They weren't going to let her die, though. She was certain of that. That wouldn't make sense. They wanted to see her break? Fat chance. It would take a lot more than shoving her in a box. The lack of stimuli was actually kinda nice compared to...anyway. She did wish she had Daddy's dog tags, though. They were...reassuring. Made her feel connected to him. Powerful.
<big>* * *
</big>
Major Carl Kinnick watched the live feed with detached interest. PFC Perez was a lab rat like any other; this particular lab rat merely had caught his attention for the moment for being the focus of his current experiment. Odd that she just sat there, though. Like she was waiting, an unimpressed child expecting dinner to come anytime. Perhaps a smart lab rat who already thought she understood how the game was played. Even so, she must be feeling the internal stress he'd intended to trigger. She'd been isolated for three days now without food or water, her movement restricted and her stimuli reduced to the foul odors of her own waste. Claustrophobia should kick in to the point of her feeling suffocated. Even if she could still rationalize that she wasn't in any danger – which was far from the truth – the primitive lizard brain wiring within her brain stem must be screaming at her to fight, which should trigger the psychokinetic response he was expecting.
Why wasn't it working? The first successful subject – Koehler – had broken down the barriers to his ability much sooner. So had the other male who had survived. There wasn't much more to go on so far, but the pattern seemed well understood to him and the people he'd coordinated with. The Sickness appeared alongside anecdotal evidence of absurd or impossible feats. Then the sickness disappeared, and the subject survived or died. Usually died. But it seemed there was some point between the first appearance of the Sickness and death where a subconscious trigger to activate the psychokinetic ability could be transitioned to the consciousness, and could be harnessed. For some reason though, it wasn't working for her.
“Major?” He turned his head. Lt. Col. Marjorie Warhol, the regimental chief physician at Camp Hoover, had come in. She had insisted on overseeing every aspect of his experiments. The Department of Defense had threatened to shut him down after the first few deaths -- even though he’d given them Koehler. After that operator’s success on Subversive Operations Group missions, though, certain people with access to Black Program budgeting grudgingly agreed the research was worth continuing -- under the supervision of a physician. Unfortunately, she had a nasty habit of playing it safe even if she had been instructed to tolerate some of Kinnick’s liberties, and that had severely slowed down his progress. “Major. I'm terminating the experiment. Her organs will start to shut down if she does not get water soon. She's dying, major.”
Of course she was. That was the point, to push her to the edge of death. Memento Mori.
But not today. Not everyone could be expected to see that. It was a good thing she'd not found out about the other experiments he’d conducted on Perez. He had to give it a try for the sake of science. But Major Kinnick made an annotation in his notebook and pushed an intercom button. “Terminate the experiment. Get her out and get her to the infirmary.”
Such a shame. He knew beyond any doubt that Perez was one of them. Whatever that was. There was no other explanation. He had corroborated evidence that certain unexplained phenomena had happened around her. The earth shaking. The ground warming enough to cook the frost off. Rocks exploding. Competitors getting knocked aside, her dragging a 250-pound man a half a mile by herself. Plus her other observed habits confirmed she'd been hiding symptoms of the Sickness. There had to be a way to trigger a conscious use in her.
But there were other ways. Camp Hoover had several purposes. It was primarily home for the advanced training and preparation for the Subversive Operations Group. Camp Hoover was off the grid because no one wanted to admit the US was behind the activities that SUBGRU carried out across the globe. Major Kinnick’s tinkering with the attempts advance his pet theories in psychokinetic research – that was a side-show here. Only a convenient place for the military to throw a project that was not even proven to even be real at all. They chose Camp Hoover because none of the higher ups wanted to explain to the public why they were dribbling out a few black research dollars every year to him. There were a lot of things that could be hidden at a black base. And there were other Above-Special Operations training and research going on. A woman who said she could talk to wolves...and of course there was the Empath. Maybe she could find something out that Kinnick had missed. That was a possibility he hadn't considered.
* * *
Toni finished off her last set of pushups. She was feeling better, really. No need to stay in the infirmary. Never got any explanation for the box incident. Or the electrocutions. Or the prolonged waterboarding. Or...she hugged herself. She didn't really want to think about that. In a way, though, she was grateful for it. The enemy would do far worse to her. Whatever didn't kill her would only make her stronger. The greater the sacrifice the sweeter the victory. What she really wanted to do was get back to working with a unit. She was going stir crazy being by herself all the time. You could only win so many games of tic tac toe against yourself.
The door opened. A female corporal came in. Short stubby thing with pudgy cheeks and haircut that was just barely regulation. Her unit insignia denoted she belonged to the medical company. Name badge said Rodriguez. “Hi there,” she said. “I'm Corporal Rodriguez. I thought maybe you'd like some company.”
Toni shrugged. “Yeah, that's fine.”
“I brought beer.” She brought up a six pack of bottles and shook it. “I know you aren't old enough to drink yet, but no one cares here.”
“Even better.”
She sat up cross-legged on her bed as Rodriguez pulled up a chair and handed her a cold bottle. Budweiser. Unoriginal, but it got the job done. She popped off the cap and took a long drink. Emptied the bottle in three swigs. Then she let out a healthy belch. “Hooah, that was good.”
Rodriguez chuckled. “Here, have another. You don't have to drink it with a purpose, though.”
Toni nursed that one instead. Only guzzled half of it before setting it down on the table next to her bed.
“How are you feeling?”
Toni pondered the question. “Okay, I guess. I was hoping for more action out here, though.”
“You mean like R&R, guys or girls and stuff? Yeah, not much of that out here.”
Toni scowled. “No, I mean action. Time in the Back 40. Running operations. Work with my squad.” Rodriguez cocked her head at that. “You know, blowing shit up. Jumping out of helicopters. Rucking through the mud and shit. Hardcore soldier stuff. Learning how to be a rough and tough badass that keeps America safe at night for all the babies and shit. That's what I signed up for. Not...”
she sighed. “I don't know.”
Rodriguez took a very dainty sip from her beer. Shit, was she even a soldier? Probably not. “Why do you think you’re here?”
Toni took another swig from her bottle. “Well, I figure I’m in quarantine or something. This all came about because I got caught with what they called the Sickness. And maybe they think that I’m prone to torture or something. So they got to try and break me to make sure I can hold myself together. And that's why it's worse than anything I've ever heard. That’s all that makes sense.”
The chit of a corporal sipped her beer again. “Don’t you think that...well, don’t you think that maybe you’re capable of more?” Right away Toni knew that she was certainly capable of taking her down in five seconds barehanded if she wanted to. Rodriguez would be useless in battle. And probably couldn’t carry Toni off the field if she went down. Even the medics should be able to hold their own, after all. But she was nice, so that was something. Plus she’d brought beer.
Speaking of which…”Hit me again,”
she added. “Corporal.”
The girl obliged. “In what way do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Rodriguez continued. She chewed on her fingernail. Gross. Then she set down her bottle. “Like sometimes I feel like I could do anything. Like make this bottle blow up with my mind. Or fly across the room. Or something. Ever felt that way?”
Toni sighed. “Yeah. I do.”
Sadness crept in. “When I was growing up with Daddy I always felt I could do anything. And whenever I think of him I still feel that way. He could do anything. So so can I. He’s proud of me. He even gave me his dog tags, they’re my good luck charm. Kept them all the way here.”
She downed the third bottle. “I wish I had them back. That major took them before...Stupid, I know. They’re just things. But still. I feel naked without them. More than if I was actually naked again.”
Rodriguez stood up and reached out to take Toni’s hand. She let her. “You know,” she said, looking into Toni’s eyes, “I’m glad we had this talk. I think it’s been good for you.” Then she released her hand with a squeeze. “By the way, you can finish the beer. I can’t tolerate alcohol. Only drank a little so you wouldn’t think I was trying to get you in trouble.” With that she left.
Toni leaned back and popped a fourth beer. As far as things went, she’d count today as a win. It had certainly been a good talk for her. After all, she’d gotten free drinks.
* * *
“Are you certain?”
Major Kinnick asked. “She’s not going to get pushed into breaking the barrier?”
Rodriguez shook her head. “No sir. I could feel it. She’s like a boulder. She knows who she is and that she’s determined to do her duty, which to her is whatever she’s told to do as well as she can. She wasn’t even really fazed by what Chief...anyway, she thinks this is all a test.”
He frowned. “And she really has no clue that she is psychokinetic.”
Rodriguez bit her lip. “I was very careful to get past her defenses over me being untrustworthy. Everything I did was calculated to make her think I was harmless and it worked. She really thinks she’s just a hardcore soldier. And, well, she is.”
The major glanced down at his notepad. How irritating. “ You’ve seen Koehler and the other. Ramirez. Is she like them?”
Rodriguez put her hands out as if she was balancing two weights in them. “I don't know sir. It’s like, she feels...they had this flavor. This rage, this power. She, she’s like calm and stable. Immobile, almost. It’s different. I don’t know how else to describe it. I know it’s not very scientific. But she certainly has a defense up.”
Well, there was hardly much scientific to the pseudoscience of empathy. But it was all he had to work with. “What do you recommend?”
“Her dog tags, sir,” the corporal replied. “Give her her dog tags back. Her father’s are on that chain with hers. She has a connection to them. I think it’ll be helpful. And get her back into training exercises. At least by herself.”
Major Kinnick rubbed his eyes beneath his spectacles. It was hardly safe to give a test subject back anything metallic or anything resembling a chain or rope. He’d learned the hard way. “Very well.”
He pulled up a touch screen and typed, “Return personal effects to subject F01 and accelerate to proving ground range alpha.”
<big>* * *
</big>
There she was, on a hot range in full battle rattle. If it could be called a range. More like a hellish pit of death. Imagine an obstacle course combined with a battlefield combined with a stroll through the paleozoic era. Plus they changed it up every time she went through it. Exactly the kind of training she was hoping for.
Toni waited at the starting line. It was set in the woods and worked through about a mile and a half with various barricades. “Go.” This was her fourth run through this course. She hadn’t made it more than halfway. She took out the three leapfrog mines and ran toward the first obstacle, a double coil of barbed wire. That’s when the two targets popped up with autocannons trained in her direction. Only problem was that instead of shooting over her like she’d expect, they shot at her with these painful barbed flechettes that scored any bare skin and even ripped through her digital camo print BDUs. Plus she couldn’t get a good bead on them. This time she pushed through the wire and shot them both down.
Toni ran down the path and climbed over an 8-foot wall in her path. Right then a log swung at her. She twisted and avoided it, dropping down on the other side.
And that’s when they hit her with the UCAV swarm. Twenty threats at once, just a tiny grouping. Not a big swarm by any means. Still more than dangerous. She knew from previous experience that they would fire tranquilizer darts. More than a couple and she’d be out. Her Land Warriors glitched out, so she took them off and threw them down as she executed a forward combat roll and took cover behind a fallen tree. Had to do this old school, then. Three darts hit the trunk above her. They had her in a semicircle and were closing in at less than twenty yards.Toni brought up her M6 and squeezed the trigger. It jammed. Bullshit!
She’d PMCS’d it herself. It must have been rigged to fail. The bolt was stuck in the closed position. I’m not going to fail this time!
She’d make a run for it. That’s what she’d do. She dropped her rifle and grabbed Daddy’s dog tags. She could do this.The course sprung out as clear and crisp, and she could make out the beats of the individual wings of the nearest UCAV as it darted.
The earth rumbled as Toni popped up from her cover and bolted down the home stretch. She swatted the drones out of the sky if they were in her way. Fountains of earth blew away from her feet and showered dirt and rocks everywhere. The mud pit ahead was like solid rock ground, she blew right through it. There was the last part -- climbing the rope and ringing the bell. She reached for the rope and as soon as she touched it the whole rig groaned and collapsed in a pile of timbers and twine.
She snatched the bell from where it had fallen and gave it a jingle in her hands. The remote camera whirled its lens her direction and made a clicking sound as it focused on her. “Hooah!”
she yelled, and threw the bell at it. It smashed the camera into a cloud of powdered glass, making a very pleasing chime in the process. Toni laughed as she gazed upon her ripped and bloodied sleeves and surveyed the smoking drones behind her. Victory was hers.
* * *
Beep. Kinnick shut off the recording. “There’s your proof.”
It was incontestable that she was psychokinetic. Exploding rock and dirt had followed her sprint as if she’d been throwing up chaff to guard against the UCAVs. She had set off a highly localized earthquake of 5.0 magnitude.
“I see,” said Lt. Col. Warhol. “You didn’t answer my question. Is she a danger to herself or others if she is released?”
Kinnick shook his head. “I do not believe so. No one has died more than six months after the first symptoms stop. But she still fails to see the truth. I know we can break through if you just allow me --”
“Out of the question.” The physician crossed her arms. “We are operating in a very dubious moral and ethical realm here already. Continuing down this road will remove all doubt. You have had her for six months now. I see no benefit in continuing to hold her and significant costs. If you continue to torment her you will only kill her or make her crazier than she already is.”
“Ma’am--”
“That’s an order, Major. I’m shutting down experimental subject F01. The orders are already being issued.”
What a waste. But there would be other opportunities, eventually, with what little time he had left. Memento mori. He nodded. “I assume you want her moved over to SUBGRU.”
She shook her head. “That’s a negative, Major. The Rangers want her back. It seems her father raised a stink about no contact with her, and got in touch with the right general, and, well, you know. It’s hard to deny a triple amputee war hero what he wants.”
Perhaps. What a shame, though. Perez had been such an interesting labrat.
* * *
It was 0500 and Toni was lacing up her boots when CPO Waltman came in. Didn’t even knock, but Toni sprung to parade rest anyway. Wasn’t going to catch her off guard if she could help it. “At ease,” he said. “Here.” he handed her a packet.
She frowned. “What is this?”
“You’ve been sprung. You’re clearing the camp and heading back to Georgia. Guess someone had enough of you. Pack your bags immediately.”
Toni glanced at the orders. Travel and reassignment. Jump School. She was going back to Benning.
She laughed. “I’m too hardcore for this camp, Chief,”
she said. “You should come see me in Georgia sometime. If you think you’re tough enough, and you think you know your stuff.”
Yeah, there was a threat in there. She hadn’t quite forgotten. But never mind that. She could already hear the running cadence beating through her head as she grinned. Look at me, Daddy. I’m going to be an Airborne Ranger, living a life of guts and danger…
So Daddy ran high op tempo, and so did she. Especially when he was home. The Colorado Rockies was a great place to get out and learn how to be fearless. Hiking, mountain climbing, hunting – she was already eight years old when he finally let her take down a deer. He even let her gut it. She sucked everything she could about the military out of Daddy's head. How to salute, the proper pushup form, how to field strip an M6 and why it was superior in every way to the M4, how to low crawl through brush and ignore the stickers...
So when he was gone, Toni tried to compete and win at everything. Sports games, spelling bee, whatever. She was gonna show Daddy her new trophy or medal when he next got the chance to call in. “America needs more winners,” he told her once. “We don't win anymore. We don't pick ourselves up off our feet anymore. Paul and Cruz tried. But there aren't enough winners out there. Sometimes people need to learn to embrace the suck. And there needs to be rough men ready to do violence for this great nation to keep it safe.” Then he'd mutter something about President Bullock and the CCD under his breath. “I'm getting too old for this Bullocking shit,” he said once. “Need to knock that CCD down a peg or two.”
When she was ten they relocated to southern Georgia. Fort Benning. The center of advanced warfighting development. Toni would go and watch the soldiers at Jump School. And she knew she'd do that one day. And it was around that time that things started looking up. Col. Track Palin got elected. Finally, one of the Army’s own was in office! There hadn't been a veteran in the presidency in almost fifty years. Even though he was an officer. She'd have preferred an NCO in the White House. But that was unlikely. They were too badly needed to do the work.
But then the war came. China was calling his bluff over Taiwan and they thought they'd finish their little people's revolution before he could take office. Daddy was called out again. Said it was an honor to fight wherever the country needed him. Other nations couldn't push America around. It wasn't about Taiwan, it was the principle of the matter. But this was no third world tinpot dictator. This was another first world nation. He left. And they waited on every word from the media. Toni was doing chin-ups in the yard when the officers came by. His helicopter had been struck by a rocket and gone down in the Taiwan Strait. They fished him out of the drink alive, but he probably wouldn't ever walk again.
They went to go visit Daddy in California. His face was purple and bruised, but it was still him. He was lying in a hospital bed. His spine had been severed at the lower vertebrae, and they'd had to amputate both of his legs above the knee and his left arm at the elbow. And yet he cracked a grin. “I think I'll retire now,” he said. “I gave this country both legs and an arm. I figure we're even.”
Daddy never did walk again, but Toni had the feeling that if he really wanted to he could. He hadn't let it defeat him so much as just made a compromise. Besides, they got to spend more time together. And that man was her biggest fan.
Columbus High School wouldn't let Toni play football. Said they didn't have a girls team, and that it would put her at an unfair disadvantage. Toni made things worse by losing her temper. But Daddy intervened. Guilted by an amputee veteran, the school reconsidered and let her play. And it was a good thing, too. She turned out to be much nimbler than the boys and could take a hit just as well as anyone else. She only broke a couple of bones during her high school career. Besides, she was in better shape than half the defensive line. Her drive to win made her an excellent quarterback, and she drove the Blue Devils to the state championship, where unfortunately she managed to get herself benched in the fourth quarter for getting into a shouting match with the referee over a pass ruled incomplete, which led to them losing the game34-31.
Toni's propensity for fouling herself out of the game turned her off to any college recruiters. But that was just as well, because she had one destination in mind. The U.S. Army Ranger School. Benning's where I want to be. Hooah!
The combat forces had long been open to women, but there had only been a handful of women in twenty years who were able to meet the standards of the Rangers. Toni's mother threw a fit when she announced on her 18th birthday that she was skipping college and enlisting. She had taken Daddy's injuries very hard. “I don't want you coming back to me like this too!” she weeped. Daddy had to calm her down. He was proud of Toni's decision, and that was what mattered. Besides, Daddy couldn't fight anymore and someone had to carry on. Her mother would end up leaving the first year Toni was gone from the home, anyway. Couldn't hack it.
Fast forward to week eleven of 11X – Special Forces candidate One Unit Station Training. They had rucked it twelve miles to do a night infiltration course. Once she graduated she would go on to Ranger school. Six of the soldiers in her platoon had already fallen out on this road march. Lightning in the sky and the winds were picking up. Pretty soon it started pouring. There was a forecast for a tropical storm to move through. The drill sergeants decided to do the exercise anyway. Of those who graduated OUST, over 40% of those would fail Ranger School, 65% of them in RAP week. So they didn't do anyone any favors by going easy on them.
“Let's go Privates. You think you gonna be a Ranger? Gonna be Special forces! Special Snowflake my Ass! Get in my mud!”
yelled the drill sergeant. “Low crawl! Low Crawl!”
Drill Sergeant Harris was a grizzled Haitian infantryman who could barely be understood in good conditions. The man could move like a puma. “Low crawl in that shit to your objective!”
Toni threw herself down into the mud. Her nose had been running for hours now and there was probably fluid in her lungs. She coughed to clear her throat. She was pretty sure she had a fever. The barracks crud had been hounding her for a couple of days now, but there was no way she was going to go to sick call and risk getting recycled. Not when she was so close to graduating. One hand went reassuringly to the metal cord around her neck. Yeah, her daddy's dog tags were still there, secure. They'd been a good luck charm so far. She wrapped her M6 sling around her forearm to keep the muzzle out of the mud and laid her helmet down so to crawl under the barbed wire. There was like a hundred yards to go. “Perez! I said get that helmet down! Low crawl! Fuck your pretty hair! Think some CCD puke gonna care? Chinese shit gonna care? Bury that shit in the mud!”
“Yes, drill sergeant!”
she yelled and dug the rim of her helmet as far down as it could go. It was dragging in the mud now, and only the divot it made gave her room to breathe. The rain was pouring down and soaking her everywhere. She was in the lead. This was the last part of the course. But if her battle buddy didn't make it also, she'd feel like she'd let him down. She got to the objective first and pulled herself out of the muck, then saw her battle buddy bowed down in it. She hobbled over to pull him out. His ruck was full of mud and there was a nasty gash from the barbed wire across his cheek.
“Come on Johnson, we got to get over that wall. That's it!”
she said. Her buddy looked about ready to tap out. She slung her M6 around her back and helped him grab the rope that dangled from the eight-foot barrier, and pushed. Johnson couldn't get his feet under him. “Just hold on,”
she yelled, and scrambled to the top of the wall herself, and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him. “Don't give up on me!”
she yelled. He was trying, sure. But he wasn't digging deep enough. His eyes rolled back and he breathed hard.
Toni strained and strained. Please, please, please, just a little more!
Even so she knew she was going to fail. Daddy, help!
She touched her dog tags.
There was a rumble and a snapping sound. The earth lurched. The barrier suddenly careened toward Toni. She leaped off of it as it fell into the mud. Johnson got to his knees, holding his head. “What just happened?”
“I don't know,”
Toni said. “It must have broken. But let's go ring the bell! We're the first ones done!”
She grabbed him and they stumbled together to the bell.
They never made it. “Privates! What the hell did you do to my wall?”
Drill Sergeant Harris was right on them. “Half-right face! Front lean and rest position, move!”
Toni threw herself down into the pushup position, her hands sinking deep into the slimy mud. A pool of water had gathered beneath her.
“In cadence! One, two, three....”
Toni started pushing and sounding off pushups. Every time she went down, water ran down inside her BDUs from her neck to her navel. Sand had gotten into her bra. She had to time her breaths or she’d end up choking. Everything burned. Yet somehow she had a little more strength to give.
“Answer me! What did you do to my wall? Keep pushing Johnson!”
Her buddy had collapsed and was on his back. Toni kept pushing. “No explanation, Drill Sergeant! It just broke!”
Yeah, she was going to get pneumonia from this for sure.
“Is that the case, Perez? Well since your buddy didn't make it you can push for both of them! Does that suck enough for you?”
She sputtered out a cough as she continued. “I like the way this sucks, Drill Sergeant!”
“Oh yeah, Perez?”
The drill sergeant shook his head and dropped to the prone position himself in one fluid movement. “Halfway down!” He demonstrated. “How about I make it suck a little more?”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant!”
They both dropped to the halfway position. Her arms quaked and the ruck on her back threatened to give way. “Please make it suck some more!”
And she started laughing. And you know what? It was awfully hard to laugh when getting smoked. But it was possible.
Nine months later
So there was a way for things to suck more. Isn't that just the shit to make it all the way through Ranger School and get her green beret, only to get outed for the Sickness before getting her assignment? She knew it was fucking Johnson who did it. Damn blue falcon. Well, no use crying over spilt milk. She'd thought her career was over and made plans to start fighting for it tooth and nail. Instead she got called into her XO's office. 2Nd Lt. Richardson called her to attention. He wasn't all that bad. For a butterbar officer, of course. The man had gone green to gold so he must be all right, though why someone would want to do that was beyond her.
She gave Lt. Richardson a salute. “You wanted to see me sir?”
He returned it. “Private First Class Perez.”
He looked down at a file. “You were top graduate at OUST. Top graduate of Ranger School. Scored a 299 out of 300 on your last record APFT. On the male score chart.”
“No excuse for coming in at a 13:02 on the two mile, sir,”
she said. That 299 still bothered her. So what if she had fallen because of unexplained loss of coordination?
Lt. Richardson grunted. “How long have you had it?”
Toni bit back a grimace. “Since OUST, sir. Week twelve.”
He grimaced. “That long? You should have reported it. It is your duty to report any deficiency that might keep you from completing your mission, soldier. Failure to do this is punishable under the UCMJ.”
Damnit. He was right. “No excuse, sir. Only that it did not keep me from completing the mission.”
He laughed. “I'll say. You know, you aren't the first person to have come down with the Sickness in our ranks. But we haven't... um... well, only a few have been of your caliber. And you could be a vital asset to our ranks. But people are talking about, well, weird stuff happening around you.”
Toni said nothing. Imaginations of sore losers, probably.
She waited at parade rest. Lt. Richardson glanced down at his desk. “I have two forms here. One is a request for a medical board. The other are travel orders.”
“Sir.”
Toni interjected as respectfully as she could. “A medical board is just out of the question. Besides, I haven't had any symptoms for weeks, now.”
Most of the stuff was harmless, anyway. She took the travel orders. Boise? Third Psychological Operations Battalion? What the hell was in frikkin' Boise? “Where am I going? Does this mean I'm not in the Rangers anymore?”
The officer shook his head. “I don't know anything about any future assignments. The CO appealed the automatic medical board to the higher ups and this is what came back down the channel. I haven't the faintest clue why. And I was told to ask no questions. But you graduated Ranger school. As long as you stay in you're qualified to be assigned to any battalion. But you want to stay in the Army, you take the assignment.”
She frowned. “But --”
Lt. Richardson glared at her. “Stay in your lane, Private. You have been ordered not to ask any questions or tell anyone where you are going.”
“Yes, sir.”
Toni snapped back to parade rest.
He gave a small smile. “Your performance at the Ranger school has been among the finest.”
The smile disappeared. “Now you are PCSing tomorrow. You have 24 hours to clear post. Get the hell out my office.”
<big>Camp Hoover
Somewhere in Idaho
December, 2044</big>
So this place was beyond weird. Like Area 51 weird. She was half expecting the crashed flying saucer from Roswell to show up here. Toni was sure that Daddy would have told her about a place like this if he'd ever been there. On the other hand, maybe not. She'd been picked up in Boise and moved to three different vehicles, and blindfolded to boot. There was no way she would have been able to figure out how to get to the location. Upon arrival there wasn't much to see. Just a cluster of barracks buildings. Probably a big back 40 range. She heard aircraft and helicopters. Saw drones, too. Lots and lots of drones. She was pretty sure that someone was always watching her.
Her in-processing brief consisted of her with one other person, Navy chief petty officer Marcus Waltman. His biceps looked like a couple of tree trunks and he had the trident of the SEALs emblazoned on his digital camo print. “Let's get one thing straight, soldier,” he told her. “You were never here. Officially, this place doesn't exist. When you are done here and reassigned elsewhere, you. Were. Never. Here. If you die here – and that is a high probability – your family will never know the truth about what happened to you. If knowledge of what we do here ever got out it would cause an international incident. You are here for one reason, and that's to turn you into a weapon that can be used against America's enemies in a way that will make Ranger School look like the Girl Scouts. What you get in return is the privilege to undergo the worst, most hardcore training that will eat your soul and suck like nothing has ever sucked before.”
“Right, Chief,”
Toni replied. Somebody was screaming not far away. “So what, this is like super secret Delta Force?”
The chief laughed – a maniacal howl that ripped through her heart.
Toni was kept segregated from the rest of the group there. She eventually lost track of time. There was probably a population of 1000 or so at the camp, based on the apparent size of it and the platoons she saw running by. But she was an army of one. She ate by herself and had no interaction with anyone other than base staff. Lots of doctors. There were a lot of doctors. Her first week was nothing but getting poked and prodded. Bunch of psychobabble questions too. When she asked what it was for, they said nothing.
On her eighth day she was sent to a small room with two chairs and a table in the center. She sat down at one. A major walked through the door. She snapped to attention. “Sit down, sit down,”
the man said. He was small and balding, with thick spectacles and a mousey voice. “I am Major Carl Kinnick of the 3rd Psychological Operations Battalion. I am a doctor of psychiatry. Do you know what Psyops do during wartime?”
Toni shrugged. “They disseminate truthful information about our military operations to foreign populations, specifically in enemy controlled areas, in order to reduce enemy effectiveness and enhance the success of our military mission.”
The major nodded. “That is the definition you were told in Ranger School, yes. In order to be successful at this we must be able to get into the minds of the enemy and the minds of the population. So we can remove psychological barriers to the truth. Do you see now what you are doing here?”
Okay. This guy was Hannibal Lecter weird. “Sir? No one has told me anything. And no, I don't understand. What are you getting at?”
“Hm.”
He jotted down some notes. “Tell me about your upbringing and your family life.”
Major Kinnick sure asked her a bunch of questions. The session lasted all morning. He was purposely intent on finding out her fears. Toni didn't like that much. Especially since she didn't have anything to be afraid of. He asked a lot about the Sickness. What she had experienced. If there was anything odd that happened with her, or around her. Any siblings. As the morning went into the afternoon, Toni began to wonder what all this was for, and finally said as much.
“Have you heard of a phenomenon called psychokinesis?”
he asked. Toni shook her head. Psycho what? The major put a shiny metal weight on the table. The stamp on it said 1 Lb. “Pick it up.”
As Toni reached over to grab it, he smacked her hand. “No, pick it up.”
She reached for it again, and the same effect. “Pick it up.”
Okay, so this was some sort of mind game. She could figure it out. Maybe she was supposed to refuse the order. That earned another smack.
The door opened and CPO Waltman came in. He fixed her arms to the side of the chair. Major Kinnick stuck something on each of her temples. Electrodes. He took her dog tags. Daddy's dog tags. Why did she tell him about those? They were her good luck charm. Waltman stood behind her.
“Pick up the weight,”
he said again. Okay. He must be trying to make her snap. This must be an attempt to break her. She shook her head. “Pick up the weight.”
She stayed quiet and motionless. Then a current ripped through her body and her muscles clenched. “Pick up the weight.”
“Why are you doing this?”
she asked. Again, voltage ripped through her. God, but it hurt! “I don't understand the order,”
she whimpered. Again. What did he want from her? What was she supposed to do? How could she do it right and make it stop? What have I gotten myself into?
“I don't understand the order, sir!”
“All you have to do is pick up the weight.”
A knife flipped open and fabric started to tear. That's about the time the sound of her own screams drowned everything else out. The whole world exploded.
* * *
Some time later after Toni regained consciousness, she found herself in a box. That's the only way she could describe it. It was dark, and quiet. She couldn't quite stand up, and if she put her arms out she could touch both walls. A prison. Or coffin. There was air aplenty but nothing else. She felt her way around the box. It was pure metal with no easily noticeable seams. She pounded on it. Solid. Tried to push the metal out. Nothing. Ten men couldn't have budged it. So if she wasn't supposed to escape, the objective must have been to torture her. Yes. That's what they were trying to do to her. Torture her. That’s what all the other stuff had been. They wanted to see her break. They wanted to find out if they could break her. Because she would be no use to the country if she could be broken. So fine. They wanted to throw more stuff at her? Go for it. Not like they could do much worse to her. All she had to do was embrace the suck.
Hour after hour passed. She breathed in and out evenly. She did her best to relieve herself in one corner, though there really wasn't anything to hold it in one place. They didn't bring food or water, either. They weren't going to let her die, though. She was certain of that. That wouldn't make sense. They wanted to see her break? Fat chance. It would take a lot more than shoving her in a box. The lack of stimuli was actually kinda nice compared to...anyway. She did wish she had Daddy's dog tags, though. They were...reassuring. Made her feel connected to him. Powerful.
<big>* * *
</big>
Major Carl Kinnick watched the live feed with detached interest. PFC Perez was a lab rat like any other; this particular lab rat merely had caught his attention for the moment for being the focus of his current experiment. Odd that she just sat there, though. Like she was waiting, an unimpressed child expecting dinner to come anytime. Perhaps a smart lab rat who already thought she understood how the game was played. Even so, she must be feeling the internal stress he'd intended to trigger. She'd been isolated for three days now without food or water, her movement restricted and her stimuli reduced to the foul odors of her own waste. Claustrophobia should kick in to the point of her feeling suffocated. Even if she could still rationalize that she wasn't in any danger – which was far from the truth – the primitive lizard brain wiring within her brain stem must be screaming at her to fight, which should trigger the psychokinetic response he was expecting.
Why wasn't it working? The first successful subject – Koehler – had broken down the barriers to his ability much sooner. So had the other male who had survived. There wasn't much more to go on so far, but the pattern seemed well understood to him and the people he'd coordinated with. The Sickness appeared alongside anecdotal evidence of absurd or impossible feats. Then the sickness disappeared, and the subject survived or died. Usually died. But it seemed there was some point between the first appearance of the Sickness and death where a subconscious trigger to activate the psychokinetic ability could be transitioned to the consciousness, and could be harnessed. For some reason though, it wasn't working for her.
“Major?” He turned his head. Lt. Col. Marjorie Warhol, the regimental chief physician at Camp Hoover, had come in. She had insisted on overseeing every aspect of his experiments. The Department of Defense had threatened to shut him down after the first few deaths -- even though he’d given them Koehler. After that operator’s success on Subversive Operations Group missions, though, certain people with access to Black Program budgeting grudgingly agreed the research was worth continuing -- under the supervision of a physician. Unfortunately, she had a nasty habit of playing it safe even if she had been instructed to tolerate some of Kinnick’s liberties, and that had severely slowed down his progress. “Major. I'm terminating the experiment. Her organs will start to shut down if she does not get water soon. She's dying, major.”
Of course she was. That was the point, to push her to the edge of death. Memento Mori.
But not today. Not everyone could be expected to see that. It was a good thing she'd not found out about the other experiments he’d conducted on Perez. He had to give it a try for the sake of science. But Major Kinnick made an annotation in his notebook and pushed an intercom button. “Terminate the experiment. Get her out and get her to the infirmary.”
Such a shame. He knew beyond any doubt that Perez was one of them. Whatever that was. There was no other explanation. He had corroborated evidence that certain unexplained phenomena had happened around her. The earth shaking. The ground warming enough to cook the frost off. Rocks exploding. Competitors getting knocked aside, her dragging a 250-pound man a half a mile by herself. Plus her other observed habits confirmed she'd been hiding symptoms of the Sickness. There had to be a way to trigger a conscious use in her.
But there were other ways. Camp Hoover had several purposes. It was primarily home for the advanced training and preparation for the Subversive Operations Group. Camp Hoover was off the grid because no one wanted to admit the US was behind the activities that SUBGRU carried out across the globe. Major Kinnick’s tinkering with the attempts advance his pet theories in psychokinetic research – that was a side-show here. Only a convenient place for the military to throw a project that was not even proven to even be real at all. They chose Camp Hoover because none of the higher ups wanted to explain to the public why they were dribbling out a few black research dollars every year to him. There were a lot of things that could be hidden at a black base. And there were other Above-Special Operations training and research going on. A woman who said she could talk to wolves...and of course there was the Empath. Maybe she could find something out that Kinnick had missed. That was a possibility he hadn't considered.
* * *
Toni finished off her last set of pushups. She was feeling better, really. No need to stay in the infirmary. Never got any explanation for the box incident. Or the electrocutions. Or the prolonged waterboarding. Or...she hugged herself. She didn't really want to think about that. In a way, though, she was grateful for it. The enemy would do far worse to her. Whatever didn't kill her would only make her stronger. The greater the sacrifice the sweeter the victory. What she really wanted to do was get back to working with a unit. She was going stir crazy being by herself all the time. You could only win so many games of tic tac toe against yourself.
The door opened. A female corporal came in. Short stubby thing with pudgy cheeks and haircut that was just barely regulation. Her unit insignia denoted she belonged to the medical company. Name badge said Rodriguez. “Hi there,” she said. “I'm Corporal Rodriguez. I thought maybe you'd like some company.”
Toni shrugged. “Yeah, that's fine.”
“I brought beer.” She brought up a six pack of bottles and shook it. “I know you aren't old enough to drink yet, but no one cares here.”
“Even better.”
She sat up cross-legged on her bed as Rodriguez pulled up a chair and handed her a cold bottle. Budweiser. Unoriginal, but it got the job done. She popped off the cap and took a long drink. Emptied the bottle in three swigs. Then she let out a healthy belch. “Hooah, that was good.”
Rodriguez chuckled. “Here, have another. You don't have to drink it with a purpose, though.”
Toni nursed that one instead. Only guzzled half of it before setting it down on the table next to her bed.
“How are you feeling?”
Toni pondered the question. “Okay, I guess. I was hoping for more action out here, though.”
“You mean like R&R, guys or girls and stuff? Yeah, not much of that out here.”
Toni scowled. “No, I mean action. Time in the Back 40. Running operations. Work with my squad.” Rodriguez cocked her head at that. “You know, blowing shit up. Jumping out of helicopters. Rucking through the mud and shit. Hardcore soldier stuff. Learning how to be a rough and tough badass that keeps America safe at night for all the babies and shit. That's what I signed up for. Not...”
she sighed. “I don't know.”
Rodriguez took a very dainty sip from her beer. Shit, was she even a soldier? Probably not. “Why do you think you’re here?”
Toni took another swig from her bottle. “Well, I figure I’m in quarantine or something. This all came about because I got caught with what they called the Sickness. And maybe they think that I’m prone to torture or something. So they got to try and break me to make sure I can hold myself together. And that's why it's worse than anything I've ever heard. That’s all that makes sense.”
The chit of a corporal sipped her beer again. “Don’t you think that...well, don’t you think that maybe you’re capable of more?” Right away Toni knew that she was certainly capable of taking her down in five seconds barehanded if she wanted to. Rodriguez would be useless in battle. And probably couldn’t carry Toni off the field if she went down. Even the medics should be able to hold their own, after all. But she was nice, so that was something. Plus she’d brought beer.
Speaking of which…”Hit me again,”
she added. “Corporal.”
The girl obliged. “In what way do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Rodriguez continued. She chewed on her fingernail. Gross. Then she set down her bottle. “Like sometimes I feel like I could do anything. Like make this bottle blow up with my mind. Or fly across the room. Or something. Ever felt that way?”
Toni sighed. “Yeah. I do.”
Sadness crept in. “When I was growing up with Daddy I always felt I could do anything. And whenever I think of him I still feel that way. He could do anything. So so can I. He’s proud of me. He even gave me his dog tags, they’re my good luck charm. Kept them all the way here.”
She downed the third bottle. “I wish I had them back. That major took them before...Stupid, I know. They’re just things. But still. I feel naked without them. More than if I was actually naked again.”
Rodriguez stood up and reached out to take Toni’s hand. She let her. “You know,” she said, looking into Toni’s eyes, “I’m glad we had this talk. I think it’s been good for you.” Then she released her hand with a squeeze. “By the way, you can finish the beer. I can’t tolerate alcohol. Only drank a little so you wouldn’t think I was trying to get you in trouble.” With that she left.
Toni leaned back and popped a fourth beer. As far as things went, she’d count today as a win. It had certainly been a good talk for her. After all, she’d gotten free drinks.
* * *
“Are you certain?”
Major Kinnick asked. “She’s not going to get pushed into breaking the barrier?”
Rodriguez shook her head. “No sir. I could feel it. She’s like a boulder. She knows who she is and that she’s determined to do her duty, which to her is whatever she’s told to do as well as she can. She wasn’t even really fazed by what Chief...anyway, she thinks this is all a test.”
He frowned. “And she really has no clue that she is psychokinetic.”
Rodriguez bit her lip. “I was very careful to get past her defenses over me being untrustworthy. Everything I did was calculated to make her think I was harmless and it worked. She really thinks she’s just a hardcore soldier. And, well, she is.”
The major glanced down at his notepad. How irritating. “ You’ve seen Koehler and the other. Ramirez. Is she like them?”
Rodriguez put her hands out as if she was balancing two weights in them. “I don't know sir. It’s like, she feels...they had this flavor. This rage, this power. She, she’s like calm and stable. Immobile, almost. It’s different. I don’t know how else to describe it. I know it’s not very scientific. But she certainly has a defense up.”
Well, there was hardly much scientific to the pseudoscience of empathy. But it was all he had to work with. “What do you recommend?”
“Her dog tags, sir,” the corporal replied. “Give her her dog tags back. Her father’s are on that chain with hers. She has a connection to them. I think it’ll be helpful. And get her back into training exercises. At least by herself.”
Major Kinnick rubbed his eyes beneath his spectacles. It was hardly safe to give a test subject back anything metallic or anything resembling a chain or rope. He’d learned the hard way. “Very well.”
He pulled up a touch screen and typed, “Return personal effects to subject F01 and accelerate to proving ground range alpha.”
<big>* * *
</big>
There she was, on a hot range in full battle rattle. If it could be called a range. More like a hellish pit of death. Imagine an obstacle course combined with a battlefield combined with a stroll through the paleozoic era. Plus they changed it up every time she went through it. Exactly the kind of training she was hoping for.
Toni waited at the starting line. It was set in the woods and worked through about a mile and a half with various barricades. “Go.” This was her fourth run through this course. She hadn’t made it more than halfway. She took out the three leapfrog mines and ran toward the first obstacle, a double coil of barbed wire. That’s when the two targets popped up with autocannons trained in her direction. Only problem was that instead of shooting over her like she’d expect, they shot at her with these painful barbed flechettes that scored any bare skin and even ripped through her digital camo print BDUs. Plus she couldn’t get a good bead on them. This time she pushed through the wire and shot them both down.
Toni ran down the path and climbed over an 8-foot wall in her path. Right then a log swung at her. She twisted and avoided it, dropping down on the other side.
And that’s when they hit her with the UCAV swarm. Twenty threats at once, just a tiny grouping. Not a big swarm by any means. Still more than dangerous. She knew from previous experience that they would fire tranquilizer darts. More than a couple and she’d be out. Her Land Warriors glitched out, so she took them off and threw them down as she executed a forward combat roll and took cover behind a fallen tree. Had to do this old school, then. Three darts hit the trunk above her. They had her in a semicircle and were closing in at less than twenty yards.Toni brought up her M6 and squeezed the trigger. It jammed. Bullshit!
She’d PMCS’d it herself. It must have been rigged to fail. The bolt was stuck in the closed position. I’m not going to fail this time!
She’d make a run for it. That’s what she’d do. She dropped her rifle and grabbed Daddy’s dog tags. She could do this.The course sprung out as clear and crisp, and she could make out the beats of the individual wings of the nearest UCAV as it darted.
The earth rumbled as Toni popped up from her cover and bolted down the home stretch. She swatted the drones out of the sky if they were in her way. Fountains of earth blew away from her feet and showered dirt and rocks everywhere. The mud pit ahead was like solid rock ground, she blew right through it. There was the last part -- climbing the rope and ringing the bell. She reached for the rope and as soon as she touched it the whole rig groaned and collapsed in a pile of timbers and twine.
She snatched the bell from where it had fallen and gave it a jingle in her hands. The remote camera whirled its lens her direction and made a clicking sound as it focused on her. “Hooah!”
she yelled, and threw the bell at it. It smashed the camera into a cloud of powdered glass, making a very pleasing chime in the process. Toni laughed as she gazed upon her ripped and bloodied sleeves and surveyed the smoking drones behind her. Victory was hers.
* * *
Beep. Kinnick shut off the recording. “There’s your proof.”
It was incontestable that she was psychokinetic. Exploding rock and dirt had followed her sprint as if she’d been throwing up chaff to guard against the UCAVs. She had set off a highly localized earthquake of 5.0 magnitude.
“I see,” said Lt. Col. Warhol. “You didn’t answer my question. Is she a danger to herself or others if she is released?”
Kinnick shook his head. “I do not believe so. No one has died more than six months after the first symptoms stop. But she still fails to see the truth. I know we can break through if you just allow me --”
“Out of the question.” The physician crossed her arms. “We are operating in a very dubious moral and ethical realm here already. Continuing down this road will remove all doubt. You have had her for six months now. I see no benefit in continuing to hold her and significant costs. If you continue to torment her you will only kill her or make her crazier than she already is.”
“Ma’am--”
“That’s an order, Major. I’m shutting down experimental subject F01. The orders are already being issued.”
What a waste. But there would be other opportunities, eventually, with what little time he had left. Memento mori. He nodded. “I assume you want her moved over to SUBGRU.”
She shook her head. “That’s a negative, Major. The Rangers want her back. It seems her father raised a stink about no contact with her, and got in touch with the right general, and, well, you know. It’s hard to deny a triple amputee war hero what he wants.”
Perhaps. What a shame, though. Perez had been such an interesting labrat.
* * *
It was 0500 and Toni was lacing up her boots when CPO Waltman came in. Didn’t even knock, but Toni sprung to parade rest anyway. Wasn’t going to catch her off guard if she could help it. “At ease,” he said. “Here.” he handed her a packet.
She frowned. “What is this?”
“You’ve been sprung. You’re clearing the camp and heading back to Georgia. Guess someone had enough of you. Pack your bags immediately.”
Toni glanced at the orders. Travel and reassignment. Jump School. She was going back to Benning.
She laughed. “I’m too hardcore for this camp, Chief,”
she said. “You should come see me in Georgia sometime. If you think you’re tough enough, and you think you know your stuff.”
Yeah, there was a threat in there. She hadn’t quite forgotten. But never mind that. She could already hear the running cadence beating through her head as she grinned. Look at me, Daddy. I’m going to be an Airborne Ranger, living a life of guts and danger…