"If you don't know who you truly are, you'll never know what you really want."
Number Twenty-Two
Her laughter echoed loudly, mocking and unreasonable, the only sound amidst the grim-faced Bases watching from behind the one-sided glass. Strapped on the chair was a woman with the exact face as 00, only she's the darker version, the devil incarnate. Her lips were twisted in cruel grin as blood slowly dripped from them, her eyes half-closed as if she was savoring the electric shocks being sent through her body. She was enjoying it, relishing the pain that only few could withstand. It was insane.
She was inside the questioning room, monitored not only by video cameras but also by other agents from the adjacent room. No matter what they did, torturing their prisoner only seemed to please her. She wouldn't talk. She would only laugh and giggle and smile, and at times, she would taunt them with her skin. The Bases never thought it was possible to have 00 and 'dirty' in the same sentence. They knew this wasn't their Equation-in-charge, but still... it was disorienting to have that angelic face of hers with that wicked attitude. It was enough to bring nightmares to some of them.
The only door to the room open, and Krad strode purposely inside. The Bases turned off the flow of electricity. They waited for what would happen.
"I missed you, my pet," the pale girl cooed. "It's been so long since you last visited."
Krad stared at her for a minute before he backhanded her. She licked the blood on her lips.
"More, my pet. Hurt me more. I've been waiting for you."
"Where's 00?" he asked with a leveled glare.
For the thousandth time, she laughed. She hissed like a snake. "Probably in heaven. She's an a-n-g-el, after all!"
Krad studied her, and he was disappointed to confirm what he already knew – this woman was immune to pain. Perhaps it was inevitable, but this meant that they would need to call a Gifted from the headquarters or send her there. He had to decide as soon as possible.
"What? You're leaving already? How about my goodbye kiss?" but Krad ignored her jibes. The next room was eerily quiet as soon as he entered.
"Drug her until a telepath comes."
One stepped forward and nodded. "Don't you think we should give it one more try? Maybe with a higher voltage?"
Krad shook his head in frustration. "No. It might kill her. The pain receptors in her body are damaged; she's not aware that her organs are failing. Maybe she is, and she's planning to make us kill her that way. She's smart. Don't underestimate your enemies."
"And don't overestimate them either."
"It's a fine line to walk."
Krissy squirmed in her seat, trying to pull herself away from the tubes attached to her. "Hey! You guys over there! I know I'm being watched here, and you know what? I'm tired of this sham. It's so fuckin small here and you don't feed me right! Is this how you're supposed to treat your informant?"
"Gutsy, ain't she?" one man commented dryly. "So, what are we going to do, eh?"
All eyes fell on Krad. He simply watched the thrashing woman on the other side. He walked over the buttons and turned on the microphone. "What do you want to eat?"
Hearing his smooth voice made her grin like crazy. "Oh, oh! Are you trying to be kind to me now? Because torture doesn't work? You got to try harder than that, sweet pea."
Krad sighed dramatically. "Fine. If you don't want to... I guess you're satisfied with cold noodles..."
Krissy grimaced, and a long silence filled both rooms. "Then," she drawled, "will you personally cook it for me, sweetheart?"
"If it's something I'm capable of, why not?" he played along, earning a few surprised looks from those behind him. "Tell me. What are you craving for? Do you have a favorite?"
"Not really," she said airily, seemingly deep in thought. "As long as I have beer, I'll live."
"If you aren't captured by Creed right now, what would you be eating?"
"Let's see..." She bit her lip. "Sopapilla cheesecake pie!"
"With beer?"
"Of course!"
"Oh, and if you aren't here, are you going to go swimming?"
She snorted. "Ew."
"Shopping? Perhaps in the Mercado?"
"Definitely!" the copycat squealed. "I'm going to buy a sombrero for myself! And some of those bead curtains..."
"Thank you. You've told me all I need." Krad interrupted her before turning off the microphone. He then turned to the waiting men. "The Light is in Mexico. Inform the higher ups and try to verify it through the network. I'm sure that the black market has some info on this. Focus the search there; something will come up. I want someone to see to it that I be given a list on all the personal background of the richest men in the area. I also want that fake out of here. Sent her to the HQ like originally planned. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
A man cleared his throat before Krad could walk away. "How did you manage to drag that out of her? We've been here for days without luck, yet you –"
It's not luck. It's called technique. "It's easy. Electricity affects brainwaves. It makes one more... honest, in a way. It's psychology. All I did was ask the proper questions."
* * *
The book could have been written in Latin or Swahili for all he cared, but Krad couldn't have understood less about what he had been reading for the last two hours. It was a dumb thing, didn't even pass as a distraction. He was extremely tired of waiting. No, he was not impatient, simply intolerant. Inside 00's office, he was alone, undisturbed, thoroughly avoided by everyone who had chanced to lay their eyes on him.
But he had shown them nothing. Not a scowl or glare. There was no trace of anger or hatred or bloodlust. He had the face worn by most Equations: blank. He passed by the others like they did not exist – to him they didn't matter.
He glanced at the slim mobile in front of him, mentally willing it to vibrate. It did not. He picked it up and in a sudden fit threw it against the wall, shattering the delicate gadget into smithereens.
Not a single phone call! Not even a message! Not one response to his requests to be allowed to track the Light!
Krad cursed. Not satisfied, he shouted every expletive he could think of in all the seven languages he had mastered. English. Spanish. French. Mandarin. Korean. German. Arabic. It wasn't enough. Words could not convey the unpleasantness churning inside him.
The Creed headquarters was unreachable. 04 was impossible. 13 was indifferent. The Master's words for him to stay put were absolute. The inattention the higher ups were giving him was grating on his nerves. No one wanted to give him a chance, an opportunity, to be part of the search. Maybe because he didn't matter, maybe because he did. Either way, he wasn't happy with it.
Krad needed to get rid of the images in his head – of Faye's broken body, of her swollen face. He only wanted to remember her smiling, but he couldn't. Tears, that's all he saw. Her eyes glistening. Her eyes in pain. Her eyes so utterly beautiful it was sacrilege for her cry. Yet that was all he could see – Faye crying. In his mind, it was like a sick YouTube video on replay. It was unbearable.
She must be terrified, deep within, even if she was trying to be strong and brave. Inside, she must have felt alone, abandoned, and who was to be blamed? Him and his stupidity. All he wanted was to right his mistakes. He wanted to save her, yearned to do something for her. He owed her big time. He had hurt her repeatedly, but he merely wanted to make amends. He wanted her free. Everyone deemed otherwise.
Krad was aware of his fatal mistakes one after another. He was letting his emotions run rampantly. His heart, not his head. Creed's manual warned him of that. It was the number one reason why agents fail. To fail is death. Rationally, he should stop being so nosey – anything other than his assignments are supposed to be none of his darn business – yet he couldn't put a plug on it, couldn't put his emotions away. The emptiness within him before was completely filled, yet now that it was, Krad wished otherwise.
Anything other than this... this insanity, this cruel game where he currently finds himself in. Not this hide-and-seek with all these super humans. If he was sensible, he should have wanted an out... but that was not the case.
He didn't understand. What the hell was wrong with him? If he willed it, he could revert back to being under 13, return to his former place, outlet his frustrations to willing girls and unwilling criminal preys. Easy. Yet, why was he still here? Why was he sticking his nose in a fight of these so called Rare Kinds? Was it for the thrill? The challenge? Or was it –?
"Because you are an avenger."
Krad peered into the darkness. Light suddenly flooded the room, momentarily blinding him from the intruder. Not one, but two. He silently took in the two brave souls who dared to enter his forbidden zone. They didn't look like Bases. Heck, they didn't even look like agents of any sort.
"Of course, you are one, always have been, my dear," a nostalgic female voice accompanied the two unfamiliar presences. "You don't want to run away. Never did."
One woman and a boy.
The woman smiled at him gently, fine wrinkles on the edge of her hazel eyes. "Hello to you too. It has been years, hasn't it?"
A stranger, or was it? He never recalled meeting her before. She spoke in an easy, unaffected manner, and it was somehow disturbing him more than it should be. Her companion, a tall dark-skinned boy, didn't look at him, but rather let his eyes roam around the place, edgy, looking more and more bewildered as seconds ticked by. Krad had never seen the boy too.
"You're wondering who we are."
Krad narrowed his eyes at them. A mind-reader?
"Your feathers are scattered. I know you've been trying, but you can't fly freely," the woman stated eagerly, as if he was supposed to understand what she was saying, "I am here to help you. Like I did before with my dear Abcidee."
Then, she giggled. Giggled! Who on friggin' earth would laugh at him during his darkest moods?!
His expression didn't change even as he wondered why the Bases on the lower levels allowed the crazy woman passage to this facility. Was she somewhat acquainted to Creed? She obviously belonged with the whackos. Was she too an Equation?
The woman glided closer, her arms lifted at her sides as if she was some sort of quirky bird. The boy followed reluctantly.
"My, you've grown so much. Much, much taller than your father."
He watched the crazy woman as she smiled and giggled some more. By her mischievous expression, he knew that she had more nonsense to spout.
"Have you eaten? There's a nice diner downtown. I heard that the food is simply wonderful," she gushed like a girl, and as she moved closer, he realized that she was...familiar.
"Oh, do stop glaring, young Underwood!" the small woman admonished, a kitten trying on an angry tiger. "We are doing you a favor. When was the last time you ate properly? Stop being a dick."
Krad didn't move an inch, showed no reaction. He only stared at her, his anger like a coiled spring, ready to be unleashed anytime.
For the first time, the boy spoke timidly, and as he did, he made the mistake of glancing at Krad. "He was so different from what I imagined Faye's boyfriend to be."
He snapped.
Krad lunged for the boy, his hand on the other's throat. "What did you say?"
"-go!" The boy struggled futilely, his feet kicking under him as he clawed Krad's arms. "L-Let me go!"
"What did you say, you mothe-?!"
The woman, unfazed, traipsed at his side, a wrinkle forming in between her brows. "I'm sorry that your mind doesn't remember, my dear, but your body does; that's what matters."
What the hell was the talking about?
"Remember how she smelled? Remember how her laughter sounds? The warmth of her hands? They're familiar, aren't they? Just like how my voice affects you, my dear," she continued, laying a hand over his arm. He quickly pushed her away, and as he did, he lost his grip on the gasping boy.
"Who are you?" Krad asked in a dangerous tone.
"What a very unoriginal question," the woman commented with a pout, "but necessary nonetheless. I am your nightmare. Doesn't that sound cliché?"
Krad, his anger flaring, acted by instinct and pulled out his gun. "Answer the damn question!"
The woman laughed. "Who are you? You don't even know yourself. 01? Jared? Gneiss? You change your name like you're changing clothes. Who are you then? Are you the clothes you wear, or are those simply something you use at your convenience?"
He tried to take hold of his rage. He was quite unstable for days. It was dangerous for the woman to play word games with him at the moment.
Suddenly, the wired phone rang. Krad eyed it with distaste. He was in no mood to talk with anyone.
"You'll want to answer that, if I were you," the woman frowned.
Krad narrowed his eyes at her as he picked up the receiver with a gloved hand. "Hello?"
"This is 04."
When an Equation calls using the direct line, there was no need to confirm the call.
Krad tried to remember the other protocols, but since it's simply 04, he didn't feel inclined to do the rest anymore. His voice was dry. Now, he finally calls. "Krad speaking."
"Head for Ciudad Juárez. We're teaming with 09."
According to the Gift-extracted information from the copycat, 00 and 02 are confirmed to be in Mexico.
"What changed your mind?" Krad was suspicious. 04 wasn't enthusiastic with the thought of bringing Krad with him. What could have happened? He eyed the woman in front of him. Somehow, he felt like she knew.
"I don't need to explain myself, Base," the Equation replied curtly. "Just be happy and lick my boots when you arrive here."
04 dropped the call.
"Dammit," he hissed.
The woman, who silently but openly listened to his conversation, gave him a noisy chuckle. "Arashi is always like that. You really have to thank him when you meet. He pulled the strings while you were moping here so that you can join the search party. 05 will take over the European facilities, while 13 will take care of the North on both sides. That makes you free to do whatever you want, right? Licking his boots seems like a small request after all he did."
Krad balled his fists.
The tall boy held the woman's shoulder and gently eased her back. He gave Krad a sad, apologetic smile. "Sorry if she's quite... problematic, but I assure you we are on the same side. She's Cecilia. I'm Rael. I can't say I'm glad to meet you, though. Faye had told me a lot about you... you didn't live up to my expectations."
The blonde agent hid his gun in his sleeves, glowering at the straightforward boy. He smirked in dark humor, "I'm Krad. Sorry, but Faye didn't tell me anything about you. You must be of no importance."
The woman, Cecilia, gave him another of her beaming smiles. "Yes! That's the snarky git I knew! Oh, I'm so glad that part of you hasn't changed."
Krad huffed as he straightened himself, towering over them. "I don't have time for this. What do you want?"
Cecilia made a snort. "What do you want? You're the reason why we're here. We need to stop the darkness from falling."
Krad gave the boy, clearly the normal of the two, a questioning gaze. Rael shrugged. "She just dragged me here. Don't ask me."
"From where?"
"The headquarters."
"The headquarters!" The Master told him that he would no longer dispatch any units to New York since the HQ agents were needed for the upcoming fight. The Master said that Krad had temporary power to oversee the whole facility until the Light perished. He faced the woman. "Just who the heck are you?"
"Cecilia, Abcidee's aunt," she responded, nodding to herself, pleased.
Rael sighed as he propped on top of the marbled table. "That's useless. I spent hours with her. Didn't learn anything."
"Did the Master send you?"
"No. You can say we ran away," Rael replied, seemingly going green, "I don't know how Cecilia did it, but she managed to avoid the attention of the Master, find us a ready jet and then made me pilot it inexperienced." He shook. "It was downright suicide."
Cecilia stood in between them and screamed, "Stop it! Stop it! No more tattling. We need to leave immediately or we won't make it in time."
Krad and Rael shared a troubled look.
"I thought you wanted to go to NY. Well, we're here, and then you're going to say you want to leave? We just arrived!" Rael threw a longing glance at the couch. He terribly wanted to sleep.
Cecilia spoke as if she didn't hear her companion. "Gneiss! Pack as much food and stuffs as you can. We're leaving in exactly 24 minutes and 56.03 seconds. If you're even one nanosecond late, I swear you will never see your girlfriend alive again."
"You can't be serious." Girlfriend? Faye is? But she said they were simply friends.
"Oh, but I am." She twirled as she neared the door. As the automatic doors slid open for her, she paused thoughtfully. "And Rael, you and I can sleep in the jet. Gneiss here knows how to fly the thing. You don't have to worry."
With that, she left the room, leaving two dumbfounded boys behind her.
*
Unedited