Identity X (29 page)

“Hannah,” he whimpered as he hovered
above her, stroking her face and brushing her blond hair away from her eyes. 
As he pulled the files from her arms, a bloodstained bullet hole scarring the
green Bionics lettering, he realised that suddenly they were not as important
as he had imagined them to be.  They had stopped him living his life in the
present, and every day had served as a reminder of his painful past.  He wished
so greatly that he had realised before this moment.  He bent back down towards
Hannah, and after sliding both arms underneath her, he scooped her up.  Her
head flopped into his chest and he felt the warmth of her breath against his
skin. 

“I got your files, Ben.  I did it.  I got
you, and Matthew.”  Only now did he recognise that nothing held greater
importance to him than his wife and child.  Not even NEMREC.  He ran with her
back to the boat and lowered her in with the help of the boatman the same way
he had Matthew only moments before.

“Get us out of here,” he shouted as he
pulled off his jacket and tore at his shirt for something to press against the
wound.  She couldn’t die.  He couldn’t lose anything else.  As the boat sped
away, nobody looked back.  Matthew crouched on the floor, holding his mother’s
head, whilst Ben shouted ‘faster, faster’ to the boatman, applying all of his
weight and all of his strength to the wound on his wife’s body and screaming at
her to stay alive. 

As they sped across the waves, the boat
tipping up and down as it crashed against the billowing swell of the open
water, Ben knew he had only so much time.  Hannah had saved his life, she had
saved Matthew, and NEMREC too.  He had no intention of failing her now.

Sat in the
unembellished corridor
listening to the blinking of the
overhead strip lighting, he realised that he was third in line.  He had
discarded his shirt just like everyone else as he waited his turn, sat naked
from the waist up, his muscles tight and tattooed.  The banter between the five
soldiers had stopped as soon as their Captain walked in.  When he stood before
you, there was no place for stupidity.  It led only to punishment.

When they had finally taken the decision
and informed him that he had been selected he was anxiously excited.  He was
quick to find out who else had been chosen. 
Who was it that they considered
worthy?
  He knew why he had been chosen, but what about them?  He knew they
would be from his section, and he was desperate to find out who the others
would be.  Some of them he would trust.  Others he knew would remain loyal to
their Captain and sell him out. 

The five soldiers stood to attention in
front of the imposing figure as he inspected their muscles and prosperity of
youth.  He walked forwards towards the door and beckoned for them to follow as
he led the way into the five bedded room.  They each took a space, and after
being instructed to do so removed their shiny black boots, tucking them neatly
under the bed as they each had thousands of times before.  At the side of his
bed as he removed his shirt, watching the others do the same, he regarded his
captain and his fellow soldiers as they readied themselves, half naked standing
proudly at the side of their beds.  He wondered what they thought of him, if they
thought that he deserved it.  He wondered if they knew.  He wondered if they
held him with the same disregard as he did them.  They sat down in unison
swinging their feet up on to the beds.  The beds were organised in a round,
their feet all facing inwards to a central point
like
a clock face.  He was positioned at six
or twelve o’clock, depending on perspective, but considered that perhaps all
his fellow soldiers thought that they were also in the same position.   They
eyed each other in silence as their Captain stood to the side of the door,
keeping watch over his flock.  There was no more time for banter, and the
boisterous joviality had been forgotten. 

The nurse joined them, pushing her
trolley in front of her, arriving at the bed space of the first soldier.  They
all watched him wince as the large gauge needle was inserted into the crease of
his arm.  The soldier flexed his arm back into a tight bend as the nurse with
the cute bu
m
and blond hair pulled the
needle from his arm.  The pain was visible as he writhed about.  One of the
other soldiers began to snigger, but it was short lived, remembering that he
was also waiting his turn for the same treatment.  She immediately straightened
his arm and pushed it back onto the bed, pressing on it to stop the bleeding. 
A few drops had already escaped and dribbled down onto the sheets, and she made
a tutting sound with her tongue to express her disapproval.  She stuck a couple
of gauze swaps over the hole left by the needle and taped them down.  She told
him to hold it in place, to press, and not to bend his arm again until it had
stopped bleeding.  She collected the silver trolley from her side and after
removing her gloves and disposing of them on the bottom shelf in a small yellow
bin, pushed it towards the next bed space.  It contained all of her nursing
paraphernalia, and most importantly four more prepared syringes.  The first
batch.  The only batch.  It was the first injection in history.  She followed
the same routine with the next soldier before pulling off her gloves.

As she was finishing with the second
soldier the door opened.  From the shadow
s
stepped an aged man, sporting a grand
looking white moustache and a well kept head of silver hair, slicked into a
side parting and visible only when he removed his green hat which donned a red
band and impressive insignia.  He wasn’t unsteady on his feet but he was slow,
and the seventieth birthday that he was rumoured to have celebrated last month
was no surprise to most.  He nodded his head briskly to the nurse, who now
appeared nervous for the first time, and she stood politely aside to allow him
time to pass.

For a moment he stood at the side of the
third bed and looked upon the soldier propped up against the headrest, much
like a father would a son during a moment of pride and satisfaction. 
“Finally,” he said, and he rested his hand onto his shoulder and patted his
skin.

“Yes General White.  It would seem so.” 
The old man smiled at the soldier
’
s
formal response, and looked upon the well defined body with delight, as if was
his own work that had achieved such near perfection.  “If you don’t mind my
saying, Sir, it’s not before time.”

The old man gestured the nurse to come
forward and she brought her trolley to the side of the bed.  Her previously
irritated demeanour vanished, or at least suppressed as she arrived with her
head bowed in subservient fashion
,
General watched her work.  She took the soldiers arm and cleaned the crease of
his elbow, wiping the small alcohol laced cotton ball repeatedly over the injection
site.  “You are right, you have waited patiently.  But as of today, no more.”

She inserted the needle, piercing a large
hole in the surface of his skin, but the soldier was brave and said nothing,
eliciting no reaction.  He didn’t wince, flinch, or complain.  None of his
company would have known that he felt anything.  Those still to receive the
injection looked disparagingly upon the first two soldiers, unfairly judging
their outward display of discomfort.  She pushed down to flush the contents of
the syringe into the soldier
’
s veins.  The serum burnt as
it travelled through his system, each muscle tingling as it skirted through his
body like a microbe taking swift control of its host.  He clenched his jaw,
eager not to demonstrate how much it hurt.  The general eyed the nurse’s work
closely, and as she removed the needle General White smiled softly at the
soldier.  “Two weeks, and this will all seem like a distant memory, and all of
the years of waiting will be worth it.”

The nurse taped the gauze swabs to his
arm and placed the fingers of his other hand on top of them, politely
instructing him to press down on the wound. 

“When can I start physical training
again?” the soldier asked.  “I don’t want to miss much.”

“We’ll have you up and moving soon enough
Matthew.  Don’t worry.  In two weeks time, once this has done its job,” he said
as he pointed to the empty syringe that had just been inserted into Matthew’s
arm, “it’ll be like you never stopped training.”  Matthew rubbed his arm as the
serum burnt its way into the cells, travelling first over his shoulder and then
across his chest and towards his heart.  The General once again patted him on
the arm and turned to walk away, stopping only as he heard Matthew speak.

“General White, Sir.”  A genuine and
heartfelt smile graced Matthew’s lips.  In contrast to the contempt he felt for
the rest of his company, a simple and easy hatred, with White it was
different.  It wasn’t so simple.  “Thank you for recommending me.  Without you
I wouldn’t be here today.  I wouldn’t have this opportunity.”

“Matthew, without your parents’ efforts
to preserve your father’s research all those years ago, it would never have
been possible.  They paid the ultimate price.  The Agency owes them a great
debt.”

As he turned to walk away Matthew rested
his head back on his pillow and decided to stop fighting.  He succumbed to the
burning sensation as it took over the muscles in his other arm and delved
painfully into his hips.  He closed his eyes and bit his lip and acceded to the
discomfort as the old man left the room.  In two weeks time it would all be
worth it.  By that time the serum would have done its job.  He would become
exactly what they intended.  He would be stronger than anybody else, including
the four others lying beside him, the last of which was moaning as the nurse
forced the painful serum into his arm.  He would prove to them what NEMREC
was.  He would show them what his father created.  He would become exactly what
they intended. 

He promised himself that he would make
each and every one of them pay their debt. 

The End

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Thank you for purchasing this novel.  If
you would like more information regarding future work, or wish to contact
Michelle, you can visit her website
.

www.michell
e
muckley.com