*~Celtic Jedi~*
Cadet
Chapter 10
Lydecker stood staring through the window into the secured infirmary room, at the girl on the hospital bed. She was tied down with padded leather restraints, despite being heavy knocked out. They were taking all the precautions necessary. Lydecker rubbed his eyes. It had been more than a day since he had gotten any real sleep, but now quite frankly, he was too worried to shut his eyes.
The echo of heels on the tile floor filled the hallway. Judging by the delay between steps, he knew who it was without even glancing up. Renfro! The bitch was walking down the corridor towards him, the typical sinister smirk on her face. She stopped and stood beside him, glancing through the window at the X5 on the bed. “Hello, Deck. So how is the X5?”
Lydecker glared at her. “Her recovery isn’t certain.”
Renfro nodded with an amused smile. “It seems you’ve actually made some progress since we last spoke. So which one is this?”
“X5-825,” Lydecker replied. “What do you want, Renfro?”
“McGinnis reported to me,” Renfro began. “Said you hesitated in bringing down this girl.”
“825 already had two bullets in her,” Lydecker corrected.
“But according to the reports, X5-825 was still standing and refusing to surrender,” Renfro went on. “You should have been the one to pull the trigger, Deck, not McGinnis.”
Lydecker sighed. “What the hell was he doing there anyway?”
“Keeping an eye on you, on my orders,” Renfro commented. “The Committee isn’t happy with your progress, Deck.”
“We’ve recaptured three of the escaped X5s this year alone,” Lydecker rebuked.
“Not the way I heard it,” Renfro continued in a tone so calm that it was irritating. “X5-734 was brought in on medical circumstances and X5-599 practically turned himself in. You’re not finding your ‘kids’, Deck. They’re finding you. This one is the exception. What is it you call her? ‘Ivy’?”
Lydecker didn’t reply. He only kept staring straight ahead.
“I remember reading somewhere in a report a few years back that you had a personal attachment to this X5,” Renfro stated. “I hope that won’t interfere with your judgment. An X5 is an X5. They are expendable.” She smirked and walked off.
* * * *
Lydecker sat patiently keeping a vigil over the teenage X5. He had long since tuned out the beeping monitors from his hearing and was only listening to the respirator in its long whooshes of air. Ivy would have been dead probably if she was anything but an X5. Lydecker sighed and let his eyes wonder around the room. His duty shift had long since ended, but he felt he couldn’t leave her for the chance that she might wake up. And he wanted to be there when she did.
* * * *
Ivy opened her eyes. Light was coming from a window somewhere behind her, but she still couldn’t make out anything beyond her blurred vision. She searched around, but wasn’t able to find anything of recognizable shape. She blinked and almost instantly things began to un-fog. Glancing down at her arms she noticed the padded leather straps around her wrists and a number of IV tubes taped to her hand. In an instinctive move, she tried pulling against the restraint. “Damn,” Ivy let out a strained breath.
There was a rustling of paper and Ivy’s attention was turned towards the far end of the room. Someone was folding up a newspaper. The instant the person dropped the paper on a table and stood, Ivy swallowed. Lydecker.
He paced towards her until he was standing right next to the bed. He regarded her with kind eyes that also showed a hint of exhaustion. “Good. You’re awake.”
“What happened?” Ivy forced herself to stay relatively calm. “Where am I?”
Lydecker pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. “You don’t remember, 825?”
Ivy was silent. She looked away from him.
“You were shot three times by the TAC team, you were lucky to survive. You’re home.”
Ivy gritted her teeth. “This is not my home.”
Lydecker paused. “You know exactly what happened, Ivy.”
I can cope with this. “What about my parents?”
“They’ve been dealt with.”
“What do you mean ‘dealt with’?” she questioned, rather fiercely and suddenly shut her eyes as a knife was stabbed into her lung. At least that was what it felt like.
Lydecker kept a calm face. “You had a collapsed lung. The chest tube was just removed a few hours ago. It’s going to hurt for a while.”
Ivy slowly took a shallow breath. “Just answer my question.”
“We’ve covered up your disappearance,” he explained. “Made it look like you ran away. I figured they didn’t need a tragedy at Christmas time.”
Ivy stared past him out the window. On a snow-covered tree branch, a bright red Cardinal was preening its feathers. The bird seemed to look right at her before it flapped its wings and flew away. Ivy hesitantly met Lydecker’s ice blue stare. “Have I really been out that long?”
“About five days.”
“You didn’t recognize me for a month.”
“I had my suspicions. But then most of the X5s I’ve run into since the escape have actually remembered what they are. They typically run at the sight of me.”
Ivy just shook her head. “Zack’s here, isn’t he?”
“I’m not at liberty to answer that question.”
Ivy tested the restraints on her wrists. Lydecker noticed this and smirked. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Clearly it’s a little late for that. So should I even ask what happens now?”
“You’re going to be reindoctrinated after recovery.”
“Perfect. Psy-Ops.”
“And I’ll expect a more respectful tone from you, soldier.”
“Excuse me if the morphine’s making me disrespectful, Sir,” Ivy gave her best attempt at sarcasm despite the fire burning in her chest.
Lydecker smiled and in a rather unnatural gesture of care he touched her face. “I’m glad to have you back.”
Ivy glared at him, forcing all her emotions into sending him a message.
Lydecker stepped back and nodded. “Get some rest.” He walked out and shut the door behind him.
* * * *
“How’s she doing?” Sandoval questioned when Lydecker emerged from the infirmary.
“Surprisingly accepting,” Lydecker remarked. “She might be easier to reindoctrinate than we were expecting.”
* * * *
Two days later, Ivy was doing better. Not happy, but physically better. She was sitting up in bed, but still restrained after knocking out an orderly with a food tray. The man was now avoiding going anywhere near her, trying to hide his broken nose. Ivy had spotted him slinking by the window a few times.
The room’s single door opened and Lydecker walked in. He pulled up a chair beside her bed as he usually did. “How are you this morning, soldier?”
“I’m about to puke all over you if you call me that again,” Ivy replied.
Lydecker merely smiled. “At least your temper is back.”
“Is this going to become a routine with you?”
“You’ll be out of here in a few days. Start training again.”
“After the brainwashing?”
Lydecker smiled slightly. Ivy knew exactly what was going on. The difference was that he had actually gotten to know her as a person, as she had him. They had been friends before they were enemies. He knew that if this had really been any of the other X5s, he likely wouldn’t be having this cordial of a conversational argument. “I’m not going to lie to you, Ivy.”
Ivy glanced up at the IV pole beside her bed. Over the days, the number of bags hanging had dwindled from several down to one. She glared at Lydecker and he could tell she was contemplating strangling him with the tubing.
Ivy sighed. “I know Zack’s here.”
“I told you before,” Lydecker remarked. “I can’t answer that question.”
“It’s not a question. It’s a statement.”
“What makes you think he’s here?”
“Alan told me,” Ivy replied matter-of-factly. “A couple weeks ago.”
Lydecker glanced away through the barred windows to the outside hall. “Lieutenant Smith shouldn’t be talking about Manticore business to civilians.”
“I’m not a civilian,” she remarked.
Lydecker raised a hand to his temple. “When did you get your memory back?”
Ivy looked away from him and shut her eyes, clearly trying to block him out.
“Ivy,” Lydecker said. “I do expect you to answer me when I speak to you.”
Ivy didn’t even look at him, but let out a deep breath. “The same day I got shot. It was like opening a floodgate, it all just came back. Damn it! I didn’t know any better. All I wanted to do was play my cello.”
“This doesn’t mean you have to stop playing,” Lydecker offered. “Being a musician is a good cover for solo missions.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Sure, a sonata and an assassination all in one night, perfect for the mark that has everything but a bullet in his forehead.”
“You’ve killed people before, Ivy.”
Ivy shut her eyes.
“You know what it feels like to take a life. You know you were following my orders and you know it was necessary.”
Ivy’s eyes snapped open. “That doesn’t excuse it as good!”
“Ivy,” Lydecker spoke in a warning tone.
“God have mercy on your soul. I certainly won’t.”
Lydecker seemed slightly taken aback. “Don’t tell me you’ve adopted religious views.”
Ivy sighed and shook her head. “There are some things I believe in, but I’m definitely not one to flip open a Bible and start quoting scripture. When I was little, in the barracks, alone at night, everyone else was sleeping, I always felt like someone was watching me. I knew there were cameras and I knew I wasn’t alone, but there was something else. It’s why I wasn’t afraid of bleeding to death back there. It’s why your men got off with just bad concussions. And it’s probably why you’ll keep me in Psy-Ops until I stop talking like this.”
Lydecker shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”
Lydecker swallowed. He stood and regarded her with nod before walking out.
Lydecker stood staring through the window into the secured infirmary room, at the girl on the hospital bed. She was tied down with padded leather restraints, despite being heavy knocked out. They were taking all the precautions necessary. Lydecker rubbed his eyes. It had been more than a day since he had gotten any real sleep, but now quite frankly, he was too worried to shut his eyes.
The echo of heels on the tile floor filled the hallway. Judging by the delay between steps, he knew who it was without even glancing up. Renfro! The bitch was walking down the corridor towards him, the typical sinister smirk on her face. She stopped and stood beside him, glancing through the window at the X5 on the bed. “Hello, Deck. So how is the X5?”
Lydecker glared at her. “Her recovery isn’t certain.”
Renfro nodded with an amused smile. “It seems you’ve actually made some progress since we last spoke. So which one is this?”
“X5-825,” Lydecker replied. “What do you want, Renfro?”
“McGinnis reported to me,” Renfro began. “Said you hesitated in bringing down this girl.”
“825 already had two bullets in her,” Lydecker corrected.
“But according to the reports, X5-825 was still standing and refusing to surrender,” Renfro went on. “You should have been the one to pull the trigger, Deck, not McGinnis.”
Lydecker sighed. “What the hell was he doing there anyway?”
“Keeping an eye on you, on my orders,” Renfro commented. “The Committee isn’t happy with your progress, Deck.”
“We’ve recaptured three of the escaped X5s this year alone,” Lydecker rebuked.
“Not the way I heard it,” Renfro continued in a tone so calm that it was irritating. “X5-734 was brought in on medical circumstances and X5-599 practically turned himself in. You’re not finding your ‘kids’, Deck. They’re finding you. This one is the exception. What is it you call her? ‘Ivy’?”
Lydecker didn’t reply. He only kept staring straight ahead.
“I remember reading somewhere in a report a few years back that you had a personal attachment to this X5,” Renfro stated. “I hope that won’t interfere with your judgment. An X5 is an X5. They are expendable.” She smirked and walked off.
* * * *
Lydecker sat patiently keeping a vigil over the teenage X5. He had long since tuned out the beeping monitors from his hearing and was only listening to the respirator in its long whooshes of air. Ivy would have been dead probably if she was anything but an X5. Lydecker sighed and let his eyes wonder around the room. His duty shift had long since ended, but he felt he couldn’t leave her for the chance that she might wake up. And he wanted to be there when she did.
* * * *
Ivy opened her eyes. Light was coming from a window somewhere behind her, but she still couldn’t make out anything beyond her blurred vision. She searched around, but wasn’t able to find anything of recognizable shape. She blinked and almost instantly things began to un-fog. Glancing down at her arms she noticed the padded leather straps around her wrists and a number of IV tubes taped to her hand. In an instinctive move, she tried pulling against the restraint. “Damn,” Ivy let out a strained breath.
There was a rustling of paper and Ivy’s attention was turned towards the far end of the room. Someone was folding up a newspaper. The instant the person dropped the paper on a table and stood, Ivy swallowed. Lydecker.
He paced towards her until he was standing right next to the bed. He regarded her with kind eyes that also showed a hint of exhaustion. “Good. You’re awake.”
“What happened?” Ivy forced herself to stay relatively calm. “Where am I?”
Lydecker pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. “You don’t remember, 825?”
Ivy was silent. She looked away from him.
“You were shot three times by the TAC team, you were lucky to survive. You’re home.”
Ivy gritted her teeth. “This is not my home.”
Lydecker paused. “You know exactly what happened, Ivy.”
I can cope with this. “What about my parents?”
“They’ve been dealt with.”
“What do you mean ‘dealt with’?” she questioned, rather fiercely and suddenly shut her eyes as a knife was stabbed into her lung. At least that was what it felt like.
Lydecker kept a calm face. “You had a collapsed lung. The chest tube was just removed a few hours ago. It’s going to hurt for a while.”
Ivy slowly took a shallow breath. “Just answer my question.”
“We’ve covered up your disappearance,” he explained. “Made it look like you ran away. I figured they didn’t need a tragedy at Christmas time.”
Ivy stared past him out the window. On a snow-covered tree branch, a bright red Cardinal was preening its feathers. The bird seemed to look right at her before it flapped its wings and flew away. Ivy hesitantly met Lydecker’s ice blue stare. “Have I really been out that long?”
“About five days.”
“You didn’t recognize me for a month.”
“I had my suspicions. But then most of the X5s I’ve run into since the escape have actually remembered what they are. They typically run at the sight of me.”
Ivy just shook her head. “Zack’s here, isn’t he?”
“I’m not at liberty to answer that question.”
Ivy tested the restraints on her wrists. Lydecker noticed this and smirked. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Clearly it’s a little late for that. So should I even ask what happens now?”
“You’re going to be reindoctrinated after recovery.”
“Perfect. Psy-Ops.”
“And I’ll expect a more respectful tone from you, soldier.”
“Excuse me if the morphine’s making me disrespectful, Sir,” Ivy gave her best attempt at sarcasm despite the fire burning in her chest.
Lydecker smiled and in a rather unnatural gesture of care he touched her face. “I’m glad to have you back.”
Ivy glared at him, forcing all her emotions into sending him a message.
Lydecker stepped back and nodded. “Get some rest.” He walked out and shut the door behind him.
* * * *
“How’s she doing?” Sandoval questioned when Lydecker emerged from the infirmary.
“Surprisingly accepting,” Lydecker remarked. “She might be easier to reindoctrinate than we were expecting.”
* * * *
Two days later, Ivy was doing better. Not happy, but physically better. She was sitting up in bed, but still restrained after knocking out an orderly with a food tray. The man was now avoiding going anywhere near her, trying to hide his broken nose. Ivy had spotted him slinking by the window a few times.
The room’s single door opened and Lydecker walked in. He pulled up a chair beside her bed as he usually did. “How are you this morning, soldier?”
“I’m about to puke all over you if you call me that again,” Ivy replied.
Lydecker merely smiled. “At least your temper is back.”
“Is this going to become a routine with you?”
“You’ll be out of here in a few days. Start training again.”
“After the brainwashing?”
Lydecker smiled slightly. Ivy knew exactly what was going on. The difference was that he had actually gotten to know her as a person, as she had him. They had been friends before they were enemies. He knew that if this had really been any of the other X5s, he likely wouldn’t be having this cordial of a conversational argument. “I’m not going to lie to you, Ivy.”
Ivy glanced up at the IV pole beside her bed. Over the days, the number of bags hanging had dwindled from several down to one. She glared at Lydecker and he could tell she was contemplating strangling him with the tubing.
Ivy sighed. “I know Zack’s here.”
“I told you before,” Lydecker remarked. “I can’t answer that question.”
“It’s not a question. It’s a statement.”
“What makes you think he’s here?”
“Alan told me,” Ivy replied matter-of-factly. “A couple weeks ago.”
Lydecker glanced away through the barred windows to the outside hall. “Lieutenant Smith shouldn’t be talking about Manticore business to civilians.”
“I’m not a civilian,” she remarked.
Lydecker raised a hand to his temple. “When did you get your memory back?”
Ivy looked away from him and shut her eyes, clearly trying to block him out.
“Ivy,” Lydecker said. “I do expect you to answer me when I speak to you.”
Ivy didn’t even look at him, but let out a deep breath. “The same day I got shot. It was like opening a floodgate, it all just came back. Damn it! I didn’t know any better. All I wanted to do was play my cello.”
“This doesn’t mean you have to stop playing,” Lydecker offered. “Being a musician is a good cover for solo missions.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Sure, a sonata and an assassination all in one night, perfect for the mark that has everything but a bullet in his forehead.”
“You’ve killed people before, Ivy.”
Ivy shut her eyes.
“You know what it feels like to take a life. You know you were following my orders and you know it was necessary.”
Ivy’s eyes snapped open. “That doesn’t excuse it as good!”
“Ivy,” Lydecker spoke in a warning tone.
“God have mercy on your soul. I certainly won’t.”
Lydecker seemed slightly taken aback. “Don’t tell me you’ve adopted religious views.”
Ivy sighed and shook her head. “There are some things I believe in, but I’m definitely not one to flip open a Bible and start quoting scripture. When I was little, in the barracks, alone at night, everyone else was sleeping, I always felt like someone was watching me. I knew there were cameras and I knew I wasn’t alone, but there was something else. It’s why I wasn’t afraid of bleeding to death back there. It’s why your men got off with just bad concussions. And it’s probably why you’ll keep me in Psy-Ops until I stop talking like this.”
Lydecker shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”
Lydecker swallowed. He stood and regarded her with nod before walking out.
