| Subject: This I Offer 17/20 |
Author:
Athena4
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Date Posted: 17:24:45 03/10/02 Sun
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
She’d already started when he arrived. As he watched the tableau through the two-way mirror, Paul shivered slightly. He was always amazed, and a little scared, by how easily she slipped into what he chose to refer to as “business mode”.
Last night, she’d been vulnerable and scared. This morning, soft and tender. Now, in the course of thirty minutes, she’d become diamond-hard. And Paul knew, from previous experience, that very little could penetrate that mask once it was put into place. No emotion, no compassion would move her – she would get what she wanted, or Ryker would die in the attempt.
And he was already struggling. Seated in the centre of the room, manacled to a rough steel chair, Ryker sat, head hanging against his chest. His face and neck were bruised, a trickle of blood running from his temple, his breathing ragged. Despite his appearance, however, Madeline’s hands were clean.
Standing at the far side of the room, next to the door, was Francis. Six feet tall, over two-hundred pounds, and trained in his art. He could break bones, he could maim, and if asked, he could even kill, but he rarely did so. Madeline preferred other, more intricate, and more painful, methods to torture and kill. She found Francis’ methods primitive in comparison.
It took a strong stomach to watch Madeline work. Taking a deep breath, Paul activated the audio.
The first sound he heard was a grunt of pain, followed swiftly by the sound of Madeline’s shoes pacing the floor. “We can do this the easy way, Joaquim, or we can do it the hard way,” she said, pausing to tilt his head up towards her steely eyes. “I’d much prefer to do it the easy way.”
She began her walk again, circling the steel chair in the centre of the room, her heels reverberating against the tile. The next time she paused, she was behind him, her voice, Paul knew, coming to him from three sides as it echoed against the walls. “I know you’re tired… I know you want this all to end. It’s in my power to make that happen for you.” She walked forward, leaning in and stroking her hands down his shackled arms. “Other things are in my power as well, Joaquim….”
Paul squirmed as he saw Ryker do the same. But instead of buckling, Ryker rallied, his head coming up and twisting to seek the source of her voice. “Is that all you’ve got to use against me?” he slurred, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Promises of – of what? Freedom? Power? A rekindling of our little fling? Do you believe me so naïve? Do you think yourself so significant?”
He laughed again, wiping blood from his lip on the shoulder of his shirt. “You overestimate your importance, my dear.” He paused, finding an angle where he could almost catch Madeline’s eye. “You’re nothing but a whore!” he hissed, straightening his back as if sensing weakness. Paul flinched as he saw Madeline tremble behind Ryker; a hint of anger, and shame momentarily warping her serenity.
Ryker had stopped seeking her eye, believing he had won, and choosing instead to conserve his energy. He kept his head still, his gaze focused defiantly on Francis, but his breathing remained heavy with anger. After a moment, Paul watched, in awe, as Madeline took a deep breath, steeling herself to meet him, and likely her shame, face to face.
The sound of her pacing echoed once again in the chamber, overwhelming the sound of Ryker’s ragged breathing. Finally, she came to a stop directly in his line of vision, her back straight, her eyes narrowed. “I believe you overestimate your own importance, Joaquim,” she said softly, before turning her own gaze towards Francis and nodding.
A small smile crept across Madeline’s face as the door to the room swung open, revealing two lithe men in lab coats. Paul shuddered, thankful he was on the other side of the mirrored wall. The two men were part of a pet project of George’s, one that Madeline had taken a special interest in, and one that gave Paul nightmares if he thought too deeply on it. The two men, their names unknown to anyone except for George and Madeline, were specialists in pain. And Ryker was to be their latest victim.
“I think you’ll find these gentlemen rather attentive to your needs, Joaquim,” Madeline began, almost delicately. “Do let them know if you experience any odd sensations. And when you’re ready, my dear. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Madeline had taken three steps towards the door when Ryker screamed her name, struggling against his bonds. The men flanking him stepped back in disappointment, giving her a clear view of their subject. She turned, vague disinterest tinting her features.
“What is it you want?” Ryker said, trying to look as if he wasn’t begging for his life.
“My employers want your co-operation. There are groups, previously in contact with your organisation, who are proving troublesome to flush out. My employers think you can help us.”
“And you?” Ryker asked, and Paul smiled. Ryker knew where, ultimately, his fate lay.
“I disagree.”
Ryker paled visibly, a tickle of sweat mingling with the blood on his cheek. “I’ll tell you anything,” he begged, clenching his fists beneath his bonds. “I can find their strongholds. I’ll do anything!”
“You believe I’m that naïve, do you?” Madeline smiled. “The time for talking has passed, Mr. Ryker. From here on out, we will take what we need.”
As Madeline signalled her men to proceed, Paul turned away from the mirror, muting the audio as he did so. Watching Madeline play mind games with her prey was awe-inspiring, but those two men, and what they represented, turned his stomach. In his mind, he knew they were necessary, but he’d witnessed, and been part of, too many similar “experiments” in Vietnam to be completely comfortable watching them work.
Suppressing one final shudder, he left the observation room, turning down the corridor that led towards Systems.
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