Dead & Damaged

Chapter 4

Brixton clears her throat.
I don't think I know anything Owen doesn't. I don't think disclosing what I know will compromise the DIA any further. Should I even care at this point? They don't, they were just using me. And I am too tired and weak to put up much of a fight.
"Right, okay then, well I doubt I really have more intel. Owen's been inside the agency much longer than I have. My orders were simply to infiltrate this compound, steal data and samples, take photos and report back. Based on our findings we were then to assess the extent of the threat. We believe you have some people here detained against their will. But we needed proof to get a warrant. Or, if our findings were considerably more serious, we were to take immediate action to dismantle your operations. "
"Dismantle meaning...?"
"What you think it does. I have authority to call in an air strike."
"I see. So I'm to believe you have no idea what is going on in here?"
"We know you, or rather we know a PMC, has illegally obtained some experimental data from the DIA and counter terrorist agencies in relation to weapons, drones and other resources that could prove highly lethal if they ended up in the wrong hands. And we suspect you are running some rather ill–fated tests. We expected to find more of those black boxes along with other weapon prototypes."
I sit up, leaning back on my elbows for support, "I personally was not expecting you and your commandos to be human, at least not all of them."
Brixton nods. She seems disappointed.
"I assume I just validated everything your mole already confirmed. I doubt I've given you any new or valuable information ... it's not like a government organization is going to trust someone like me – something like me – with anything worth repeating ... so I ask again, why are you keeping me here? What do you want from me? You stated yourself this was a suicide mission, if you think you can hold me hostage, the DIA isn't going to offer a ransom or a trade. They'll deny my existence."
"I'm not planning to leverage you for money or anything else the DIA has to offer," Brixton waves off the guards. They abruptly turn and head down the hall.
When they are out of sight she takes a phone from her pocket and taps the screen while looking up at the camera. Eventually the little red light blinks off. She checks that the others have gone dark, then directs her attention back to me.
"The reason I let you live. Or–" she waves her hand at me, "whatever you call this. Is quite simple."
She walks up to the bars. I stiffen.
"They're electrified, Lori, but try if you must," she smirks. I remain seated, hands bracing the edge of the slab.
"Where was I? Right. I want you to turn me."
Brixton waits patiently for her request to settle in. Studies my reaction.
"You're serious? You want to be a vampire? Fangs, blood lust, aversion to sunlight? All that."
"I want to be immortal. I want the power, the strength, the youth."
"You are romanticizing an infection that strips away humanity and infects its host, transforming its victim into something they don't even recognize. Vampirism is not a cure for mortality, it's a curse. You're foolish if you think otherwise. And clearly, I am not immortal."
"Good so you won't have any problem turning me then. If it's such a punishment, I would think you'd welcome the chance."
I regard her with hardened eyes. I know my limitations and I know I won't make it another day without blood. I'm a few drops away from disintegration. I have to take her request seriously if I want any chance of ever making it out of this cell.
She continues, "Vampires are not invincible, I realize that much, but you are powerful and you are infinitely more untouchable than a human ... and you will be young for the remainder of your existence. You were what twenty when you were turned? Twenty three? Couldn't have been much older than that. And how old are you now? That's a hell of a lot closer to immortality than I could ever accomplish in this form."
Brixton leans closer, her voice a whisper.
"I've heard a little rumor about your abilities. Your friends in the agency like to talk."
I don't react and she doesn't wait for a response, "You saw my men earlier. Before the shield went down. I've been watching the camera footage over and over. And sure enough seconds before the first shot is fired, you try to warn them."
"That was merely me catching a whiff of something putrid."
Brixton grins, "I need your blood, Lori, it will give me the power I need to complete my objectives."
"And I'm supposed to just go along with this plan of yours? You really expect me to be all 'Oh sure, no problem, let's do this'?"
"Well no, not exactly. I had hoped to capture a comrade or two so we could arrange a sort of barter, but my soldiers are a little trigger happy. They've been cooped up here for months without much to do for entertainment..."
She tilts her head and slips a stiletto from the holster on her hip. I watch as she spins it in her hands before slicing open her finger. I try not to look at the blood. But I'm too weak to resist the urge and my eyes glow from the sensation.
"So we improvise."
A drop hits the floor. I do not move. It takes every ounce of will power.
"I can help you make up your mind. Come on, you know you want a taste."
"I'll pass thanks," I mutter dryly.
"Fine then," she licks the blood from her finger, "I'm offering you two choices. One involves slow agonizing torture, not just to achieve my goal, but continued indefinitely after, simply because I can. Or option two, a voluntary participation in which you turn me and I let you walk out of here of your own accord. We call a truce and part as neither friends nor foes, strictly a business arrangement. Call it an exchange of services."
She shrugs, "I know which option my men hope you choose ... Either way, Lori, you're going to turn me. If I have to break your jaw to do it, so be it."
"That's not how it works. I am not even strong enough right now to turn you if I wanted to. And I do have to want to. There is no alternative, no science or technology can accomplish what I can do to you. But you already know that. I suspect that is something you've been trying very hard to figure out here in this fortress. Had the outcome have been different you wouldn't need me."
The anger fades from her eyes.
"Sadly, yes, but it is just a matter of time before science catches up to God. Which is why I need more time. And that's where you come in."
"You think God did this to me? That's an interesting theory. What's to keep you from staking me the minute after you're turned?"
"I have no ill will towards you, it's not personal. I have no problem letting you walk out of here once I get what I want. But as it stands you will have to take my word for it. Given what side of the bars you're on right now, I'm afraid you don't have much choice. But I assure you, you're existence does not bother me, once I'm turned, my mission is much greater than you ... as long as you agree to a truce, then I see no point in spilling more blood. Or ashes rather," she smiles.
"While I can tell a truce is a big step for you, I have no desire to be linked to you for eternity, which is what happens if I sire you."
"Then my men will be happy to relieve you of the burden, should you wish."
I stand and walk slowly to the bars, trying not to limp. This is in itself a huge feat.
"Why don't you come in here, I'll be happy to show you first hand just what it's like to be a vampire," I hiss, eye glowing, fangs on full display, "Or better yet, why don't you send Owen in. I'd love to congratulate him on a successful back stabbing. Plus, I'll need to build up my strength if I'm going to turn you."
If Brixton is caught off guard, she hides it well. She merely steps back, frowning.
"Perhaps that can be arranged ... I'll consider your request while you consider mine. I can see I'm going to have to give you some incentive. Let that hunger inside you grow while the last of drops of blood leave your body. Given some time to mull it over, I believe you'll come to realize just how generous my proposal is."

There isn't anything to consider. I have one move: agree to turn her, drain the life from her and seal my fate in the process. Flushed with blood, I can maybe take out a handful of her men, but the likelihood of escaping the compound is slim to none. And no doubt Brixton is expecting this. She'll be ready and there is no way she is going to let me live after I turn her. At least maybe I'll get the chance to kill Owen. That would be a nice parting gift.