The Minus Faction, Episode One: Breakout (9 page)

Amarta stopped in the door across the hall from John and leaned against the frame. "You're just full of tricks."

The captain shrugged.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me how you pulled this one off either."

"Shouldn't you be . . ." He waved to the end of the hall.

"What?
Debriefing
? The lieutenant's balls are bigger than his ears. He isn't going to listen to me. I'll wait for Colonel Philip. There's no less dick-waving but at least the colonel is up front about it. We need to talk." She stepped inside the exam room behind her.

John scowled and rolled in after. "Last time someone said that to me, I got accused of treason."

"Our mutual friend didn't bother to check in with me this morning. Makes me think I'm not important to her anymore."

"You're not. My case got escalated. They're probably here already."

Amarta was confused. She thought Ayn wanted the captain at the hospital. "Wait. Who?"

"Some folks you really don't want to mess with."

Dr. Zabora crossed her arms. "What are you talking about?"

Regent looked to the side. He wasn't sure how to explain it. "Most of the time, the stuff that goes on in the world is pretty much like you expect. For that last little bit, the folks in charge--or maybe it's the folks who want to be in charge. Either way, they're willing to break the rules to get things done. To get what they want."

Amarta tapped her foot. She was getting flustered. She had a plan. She was proud of it. Now she was afraid it didn't matter.

"There was a kid in Malaysia—well shit, he's probably grown up by now. His body discharges shocks, like an electric eel. I saw it. He threw a little fit and there was a crack in the air. Everyone standing around him flew back and hit the ground in convulsions like they'd been standing next to a bolt of lightning."

The doctor had had enough of the captain's fantastic stories. "What does that have to do with Ayn?"

"We took him. Put him in a cage. I'm not sure what they did to him or even if he's still alive."

Amarta let out a long, deep sigh. "I see."

"Like I told you yesterday, I'm not your problem anymore." Regent held out his right hand. "Thanks. For everything."

Amarta didn't take it. That would be shaking on a surrender. "They can't just take you."

"Doc--"

"There are laws."

"Laws are just words, ambiguous ones too, especially for anyone labeled 'combatant.' How many guys at Gitmo can you name? Folks with uniforms and badges show up and say someone's a terrorist, how many people you think will ask questions?"

"So they're just going to--what? Kidnap you in front of everyone?"

"They won't have to."

"You're going to give yourself up?"

"I'm done fighting, Doc. I had a good run, but it's time to face facts." Regent raised his weak arm. "I can't get very far. Not like this. I need meds and a steady supply of colostomy bags." He laughed. He was the only one who ever had a sense of humor about his intestines. "And I sure as hell can't blend in. I knew the best I could ever do was hold them off for awhile."

"What about . . . what you told me yesterday?"

John shook his head. "I'm not doing that anymore." It was one thing to hide from torture or sneak an unused pair of legs for a run, but he'd taken it too far. He'd been intoxicated. Saving the corporal from his addiction wouldn't mean much if John simply succumbed to his own. "It's not right."

Dr. Zabora put a hand in her coat pocket. She fiddled with something inside. She paced. "No . . . But then neither is government-sponsored kidnapping." She looked at the ceiling, then at the floor, then at her patient. "Where will they take you?"

"A black site. Probably overseas." Avoid the Constitution and the media.

"And when--" Amarta wanted to say
when they find out there's nothing to find out
, but she remembered they might be listening. "And when they get what they want? What then?"

John faced the floor but his eyes were looking up at the doctor.

Amarta closed hers. They'd execute him. "Jesus."

Regent looked away. "One time we got orders to leave a door unlocked so we could 'legally' shoot someone while escaping."

"Capta--"

"I knew this was the endgame the moment I went AWOL. I had my reasons. That's all anyone's going to know."

Dr. Zabora felt a deep and rumbling anger gurgle from her bowels. She bit down hard. She didn't know why he abandoned his unit, but she knew her patient, and she was certain he was protecting someone.

Absolutely certain.

Then she realized, maybe that last story was significant. That would be like him. "What happened to that man? The one who escaped."

Regent smirked. The doc was good. "
Her
. And she disappeared. They never found her."

Amarta tapped her foot in silence.

John looked amused. "Man, it sure took a lot longer to get to this point than I thought. I never expected to make it this far. It was one helluva run. Just promise me you'll take care of Gab--"

"Stop!" Dr. Zabora put her hand to her face. She sat. She started talking faster. "I did a lot of thinking last night, Captain.
A lot
. I doubt I got more than a couple hours sleep, which has been just awesome with everything that's happened today. I kept telling myself, I'm a scientist. There's
no
way I can accept what you told me. I can't. I was dreading the morning. I knew I had to come in today and sign the order to keep you here, just like they wanted."

John had expected it. "So why didn't you?"

"Something . . . a gut feeling. Morals, maybe. I don't know. Something wasn't right. It didn't make sense. I kept going around and around. But then I figured it out." Amarta turned her head to the door. "Lieutenant!" She called.

Down the hall, the lieutenant turned.

Dr. Zabora yelled again. "Can you join us for a moment?"

John scowled.

Amarta turned back to him. "I kept telling myself, I'm a scientist. I can't believe it. I'm a scientist. And then I realized, that was the answer. I didn't have the data. It's easier to give up, Captain. It will
always
be easier to give up. I wanted to so many times these last couple years. But someone reminded me this week—
today
, actually—of why we keep fighting. And what the hell we're fighting for."

The big lieutenant poked his head though the door. "Ma'am, we really need you to--"

"Can you come in here for a second?"

"Ma'am--"

"Please, it will just take a moment. Then I'll join your little tea party."

The lieutenant looked down the hall, probably to hide his reaction to the jibe, then stepped into the room.

"Please close the door."

The lieutenant looked at the captain, who shrugged. The young man turned and Amarta pulled a snub syringe from her pocket and pressed it into his side. He was unconscious before he could see what poked him. His body slumped to the floor. His head bounced against the wall and left a mark on the plaster. Amarta stepped over his legs and looked up and down the hall. No one had noticed. She pushed his feet out of the way, then closed and locked the door.

"Shit." John sat up.

Amarta lowered her voice. "So here's my experiment. It's not pretty. But it looks like we're out of both time. And options. So this is how it's going to be. I'm doing something for you, and in return you're going to do something for me."

Regent was silent.

The doctor pointed. "I'm going to walk out that door now and close it behind me. If what you told me yesterday is true, you'll be able to follow—on two legs—and I'll escort you, both of you, whatever, right out the door. Quick. Easy. No one's the worse for wear. And then you do me the favor and
keep fighting
. Get the hell away from them. Get a lawyer. Go to the press. Whatever it takes."

Dr. Zabora took a deep breath. "But . . . if there's some reason why you can't do what you said, some excuse about radioactive interference or the moon in the wrong place or aliens in your brain or you're just too shook up, then I was wrong—again—and you need a lot more help than I thought. You're my patient. I'll do
everything
I can to help you, and that means keeping you right here where you'll get the treatment you need. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

John nodded. He liked the doc. She didn't fuck around. And whether she had any patches on her arm or not, she was a genuine officer. She knew how it went. An officer can't complete the mission. The men and women under her command have to do that. That's their job. It's the officer's job to get her soldiers the right tools, to remove obstacles, and then to get them home safely to their families.

Amarta stood and took another deep breath. "This is insane." She walked out and shut the door behind her.

Regent watched the door close. He heard it click shut. Then he looked down at the lieutenant's unconscious body.

§ § §

Amarta paced back and forth in front of the elevators. She was already having second thoughts. She looked down the hall.

Still nothing.

"Crap," she whispered. The little girl in her had really wanted it to be true, for it all to be more than just another story from a gifted teller. She had told the loitering hospital staff that the lieutenant would meet them in Conference Room B, that he was debriefing the captain and it might be awhile. They grumbled and left. She was already in one helluva lie. She looked down the hall again.

Nothing.

Amarta leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling tiles. "Shit."

One of the elevators dinged open and Ethan Brand walked out. "Gabriel is oka--" He stopped. "You don't look so good."

Dr. Zabora exhaled through pursed lips. "Thank you, Ethan. I might have just screwed up. Did you need something?"

"I saw in the computer that the captain's discharge was approved."

Shit. "Yeah. Look. About that . . ."

"I know we can't exactly throw a party, but there are a lot of people who would like to say goodbye."

"Tell them to come to the lobby." It was the lieutenant's voice.

Amarta turned. The young officer was pushing the unconscious captain down the hall. Her eyes got big. Her scalp began to tingle.

"Uh. . . Okay." Ethan was surprised by the speaker. He didn't even know the captain and the lieutenant were friends. "Now?"

"Lieutenant . . ." Amarta collected herself.

"Better hurry though, Ethan."

Ethan looked between the lieutenant and the doctor. The young soldier seemed unusually calm. He was normally a nervous wreck. And apparently they were on a first-name basis now. Ethan studied the captain asleep in his chair. Nothing. "Right . . ." He took a step back. "Hurrying." Ethan walked to the stairs.

Amarta watched the nurse leave, then looked into the big lieutenant's eyes, back and forth. "My God, it's really you, isn't it?" she whispered. She raised her hand to her mouth. "This is . . ." She had no idea what to call it. "Oh. My. God."

"Was he right?"

"Who?"

"Ethan." The lieutenant walked over and pressed the 'DOWN' button on the elevator panel. "About the discharge already being approved."

The doctor shrugged. She looked at the man in the chair. The captain's eyes were closed and his head was tilted to the side. "How does it work? Do you just . . . reach out or something?"

"Not out. In. You have to contract your mind and peel it away, almost like going inside out." John figured it wasn't a good time to talk about the rush of light or the crazy things he saw during the leap.

Amarta nodded. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She kept looking back and forth between the man in the chair and the man standing.

"I don't suppose it's an accident you put me in the head of hospital security." The elevator doors dinged open and Regent pushed his body in. "A little revenge?"

"That would be unprofessional of me."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"The lieutenant? I'll tell him the truth. The episode with Corporal Gonzales, the responsibility, was too much for him. Also, that he fainted. Both are true."

"But not related."

Amarta shrugged.

"Colonel Philip might reassign him. Send him somewhere less stressful."

"Really?" Amarta feigned innocence. She watched the numbers on the elevator display go down. "I hadn't thought about that."

John smirked. He liked the doc. She didn't fuck around. And she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty to make things better for her people.

"Besides, we're just borrowing him, right? It's not like the hospital is going to be
assaulted
,
or whatever he's here for."

The elevator doors opened. Nine men in black body armor were spread around the ground floor with semi-automatic rifles raised. They kept the nurses and janitorial staff and visitors and volunteers sitting on the carpet or standing along the far wall. A row of white SUVs sat in the drive ready to haul everyone away.