Nightingale: The Vigilante || EDITING

Chapter Nine

Flashback Part Five:

Zac paced his room, checking the hallway every so minutes. Commander Scott told him and Olivia she'd only be in the bunker for twenty-four hours. That was two days ago.

Before Zac was about ready to loose his marbles a HIEP agent came knocking on his door, requesting his assistance in Commander Scott's office. Zac hoped Olivia was finally free from the cursed place.

No one was in the commander's office so Zac plopped himself down in one of the wooden chairs in front of the commander's desk. It seemed like hours before someone finally entered the office. Commander Scott held two small pistols in his hands. His knuckles appeared battered and bruised, like he had been working with a punching bag with only his bare hands.

"Evening, Thompson." The Commander handed him one of the pistols, placing the other on his desk. "Hide that in your jacket, will ya? Usually folks coming from the bunker are a little jumpy."

"I am not shooting my best friend, sir. Plus I don't like guns." Zac glared at the gun in disgust.

The commander sighed and put the pistol into a spare holster up his thigh. He opened his leather jacket and pulled out a small knife that was concealed in a spare pocket. "Suit yourself, at least take this," he sighed as Zac took the knife, "Don't come crying to me when the knife doesn't do the job."

"I don't plan on it, sir," Zac said as he slid the knife into his jacket.

"Well," the commander took a seat across from Zac, "I suppose we are ready." He leaned over his desk and pressed a button on his cable phone. "Bring her in my office," he spoke into the speaker.

Moments later four H.I.E.P. soldiers burst through the office doors, Olivia in the middle of the circle the agents had formed. She looked like she got into a fight with a paper shredder. She had raw scratch marks that covered the sides of her face, like she clawed at her ears to block noise. The marks could be found on her hands and feet, her perfect tan skin now red and raw from harm. Her clothes were wrinkled and torn on the edges. Her matted hair was tied together in a ponytail. It already began to lose its grip and was falling out of her hair. Her once sparkling, blue eyes were now red from crying and exhaustion.

What really got Zac's attention were the bruises around Olivia's wrists and near her collarbone. It wasn't likely she got those bruises herself.
Someone else had caused those injuries.

"Ah, Johnson. I see you have returned from the bunker. How was your stay?" Scott teased.

"Like you care," her course voice spoke. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? Throwing images of the guy that killed my parents at me while I was going insane: real dick move."

"The bunker does that to a person," the commander swiveled his chair to face Olivia. "When a person enters the bunker, they are faced with their biggest regret. This is made possible with the help of that blue, skin-like collar your wearin'."

"And what? What was that supposed to teach me?!" Olivia bolted up from her chair, leading to the four H.I.E.P. agents drawing their weapons.

"Withdrawal your weapons," Commander Scott pointed at the agents. They did so, but didn't take their gaze off of Olivia. "Look, Johnson, I didn't like putting you in there, but I cannot make exceptions for anyone when they don't follow the rules, even for my future second-in-command. I hope it doesn't change things between us."

Olivia sunk down in her chair with her arms crossed. "That place gave me time to think about the Spark Program and the promotion," she sighed, "and I realized that my actions were uncalled for. I thought the matter through and I am willing to accept the promotion. I still believe bringing me to the bunker was a little too harsh of a punishment for little ol' me."