"White Rabbit " Chapter 10 by TdFmN

[esercito sconfitto]

Chapter 10 Complete






There were a total of six policewomen guarding the outside of the hospital; two at the main entrance, two at the receiving bay where a steady stream of ambulances was bringing in bodies, the residue of Sayaka’s earlier work, and one each at the two side doors. All of them seemed nervous and alert, aware that someone had already murdered numerous cop girls; not that their alertness would have sufficed against so lethal a killer. She could have silently eliminated all six of them, but preferred to let them live. No, that wasn’t quite right. She would have preferred to kill all six, but didn’t think she could afford that much time. Then too, the more dead bodies she left lying around, the better the chance she would be discovered while still on site. The emergency fire exit on the east side was the remotest spot, and the body of the cop chick on duty there would not be likely to be discovered until after the assassin had completed her work. With a concerned expression on her face, the White Rabbit casually walked towards the doomed officer, fussing with her police hat as if there was something wrong with it. In truth, she was merely positioning it so that it concealed her name tag – Wilkins. This olive-skinned brunette policewoman might well know the real Wilkins, or know that Wilkins had been killed and her uniform stolen.

-----“Can I help you? UHhhhh…!!!”

Without answering, the White Rabbit struck her prey in the solar plexus. But this time she struck to kill, holding nothing back. The assassin felt ribs shatter, driving bone fragments into the woman’s lungs; felt something dense but pulpy collapse as the heart gave way under the impact. It felt… good; the way her fist sank into the pretty policewoman’s body, folding her nearly in half. Her victim could only sob a soft, agonized grunt as she slumped to the ground with a look of utter shock frozen on her face. Sayaka calmly concealed the body behind some low bushes and examined the side door. It was locked but didn’t seem to be alarmed, an oversight that would doubtless be corrected… too late. Wearing her synthex gloves so as not to leave fingerprints, she grabbed the handle and waited. In a couple of minutes, she heard the siren of another ambulance approaching the receiving bay. Under cover of the noise she twisted the handle, exerting her maximum strength. The loud snap of the lock breaking was drowned out by the approaching vehicle. Sayaka was inside.

She seemed to be in a storage area rather than an inpatient ward. To the right was a door to a room with shelves containing bed linens, pillows, blankets, and similar non-medical supplies. And across the hall there seemed to be a walk-in freezer; food for the hospital’s kitchen. The White Rabbit heard footsteps approaching from around the corner. As a young woman, probably about 19, in a nurse’s uniform turned the corner, the assassin appeared to be inspecting the external door to ensure it was locked. The nurse gasped out a startled cry and Sayaka spun around with a grim expression on her face.

-“I didn’t mean to frighten you miss! The sergeant wanted me to check all the doors to be sure they are secure. These terrorists have killed more than 20 people tonight…”

Sayaka deliberately understated the number. After all, there would still be massive confusion about the situation and she didn’t want to appear to have too-precise information.

-“… and no one knows where they’ll strike next.”

The girl’s eyes grew wide.

---“You… you don’t think they’ll attack the hospital?”

Sayaka continued to look concerned but inwardly she smiled as she sized up her next victim. Though the young nurse was of Asian extraction, her nametag bore the name “Petoriyacowa”. In the American Confederation, a girl whose ancestors were from Japan could easily have a European name. After all, Sayaka considered "Cameron" to be her last name, the genetic "material" from which the Gen 6 team had created her being taken from a combination of Japanese and Scottish sources. Sayaka also couldn’t help noticing how… sensual… young Miss Petoriyacowa was. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, though she certainly was. The tight-fitting white uniform did little to conceal the girl's voluptuous curves. And the short hem of the uniform skirt showed off her exquisite thighs, which just seemed to be crying out for Sayaka's hands and mouth to explore them. But in addition to her physical attractiveness, the earnest, frightened young nurse also seemed to radiate sexuality. Whether it was fear or the subconscious effects of Sayaka’s genetically engineered pheromones, the nurse was become aroused, without even realizing it yet. But Sayaka realized it. She quickly estimated how much solvent she still had on hand. She still needed to sanitize Miss Sims’ body… the Devereux accountant she had seduced and then carelessly neglected to treat. She only had a few hours left to accomplish her mission and make her escape. And given the sexual adventures she had already had within the past 24 hours, she should have been sated. But… Miss Petoriyacowa was, though unaware, playing on Sayaka’s few weaknesses as an assassin – her sexual insatiability coupled with (frequent) overconfidence and (occasional) carelessness. Though she knew rationally that such carelessness might one day cost her life, she would take this girl’s body before taking her uniform.

-“I doubt it, Miss Petoriyacowa. But whoever these people are, they are incredibly ruthless and dangerous. That’s why we’ve stationed so many cops here. To get to you, they’ll have to get through us first. And…”

The policewoman turned grim.

-“ I’ve got a score to settle with them.”

The tough façade cracked. “Officer Wilkins” suddenly seemed both determined and forlorn.

-“Some of the victims were… were my…”

“Officer Wilkins” choked up with grief at the thought of her murdered friends. The sympathy welling up in the young nurse combined with her gratitude for protection and reinforced the arousal that the lusty 19-year old already felt in the presence of this beautiful policewoman with her amazing, athletic body; (and unbeknown to the nurse, the “policewoman’s” pheromones). Miss Petoriyacowa reached out and gently touched “Officer Wilkins’” cheek.

---“Is there anything I can… do… to help?”

The husky tone in the girl’s voice and the look in her eyes left no doubt as to just how she wanted to help. The assassin pretended to be shy and surprised.

-“Miss Petoriyacowa… I…”

---“Ayami. Please call me Ayami.”

Ayami moaned and shuddered as the policewoman’s tough facade, weakened by her grief and the shock of the night’s murders, began to crack under the nurse’s gentle ministrations. Desperately needing comfort and finally able to admit it, "Officer Wilkins" surrendered to her impulses and kissed the nurse. Within moments they had locked the door to storage room behind them and spread a blanket on the floor. The White Rabbit lowered her victim's body onto the blanket and slid her left hand up the girl's silky-smooth thigh and inside her white cotton panties. Simultaneously, Sayaka's right hand unbuttoned the uniform shirt and slid Ayami's full, soft breasts out of the cups of her bra. The assassin licked and sucked the exposed, sensitive nipples and then kissed her way down the frantically squirming nurse's stomach before sliding her tongue up inside the girl' s vaginal lips, replacing the left hand that had so recently probed and explored there. Ayami whimpered and writhed in ecstasy as Sayaka’s tongue and fingers explored her naked body, teasing the doomed girl unmercifully. The White Rabbit repositioned herself so Ayami’s tongue hungrily probed between the assassin’s silken, muscular thighs. Finally Sayaka laid the girl on her back and kissed her on the lips, while Sayaka’s breasts rubbed against Ayami’s and Sayaka’s left hand gently and skillfully returned to probing her victim’s slick folds. In her ecstasy, Ayami Petoriyacowa didn’t even notice that the “policewoman” had grabbed both the nurse’s wrists with her right hand. As Ayami opened her mouth to scream in what would have been the most intense orgasm of her life, Sayaka removed her fingers from between the girl’s thighs and grabbed her throat. The assassin reveled in the feel of her victim’s body squirming helplessly beneath her, as Sayaka slowly and deliberately tightened her grip. Tears streamed from the suddenly terrified nurse's eyes as her struggles rapidly grew weaker and then ceased completely.

Ten minutes later, Ayami Petoriyacowa emerged from the storeroom. But anyone who looked closely would have realized that – this – Ayami Petoriyacowa had the face and body of the policewoman who had entered the storeroom a half hour earlier. The original Petoriyacowa lay motionless on the blanket, completely nude but with her face covered by her own panties. Beside the spectacular but utterly inert body lay a crumpled policewoman's uniform. The “new” Petoriyacowa grinned at the voluptuous, lifeless body before turning and locking the door behind her. “Definitely the last one for tonight!” she told herself. She only had one more application of the solvent immediately at hand, which she would need to use for Miss Sims. And she only had about two more hours until the day shift started showing up. She would have to hurry.

Sayaka looked around to confirm the corridor was still deserted. Then, having redonned her synthex gloves, she bent the nurse’s key to the side, snapping it off in the storeroom lock. By the time the responders later forced entry by removing the hinges from the door, the peculiar, antiseptic smell of the solvent had dissipated from the beautiful body and from the policewoman’s uniform on the floor beside it. Carrying a pile of linen from the storeroom (which actually concealed the .40 caliber pistol she was carrying) the assassin headed to the hospital’s Central Security Office. She would disable the security cameras and erase the previous two hours from the tapes. Then, on to the hospital morgue and her “second date” with Miss Sims.

The Security Office was down a side corridor. Good; no witnesses. The “nurse” knocked on the door, which was opened by a policewoman. No – she was part of the hospital’s contract security staff. It hardly mattered.

-“What do you wan…”

There was a muffled but still audible “crack” as the assassin swung her hand in a horizontal arc terminating in a knife-hand strike to the rent-a-cop’s neck. The bitch was effectively dead before she hit the floor. Even as the second rent-a-cop, seated at the monitoring screen, turned at the sound, Sayaka’s left hand had entwined in the hair at the back of her head and pulled, while the heel of her right hand pushed against her chin. The woman jerked just once and collapsed limply back into her chair. Had the woman been logged out from the terminal, Sayaka would have kept her alive long enough to… compel… her to log back in. But the killer had already observed that this wouldn’t be necessary. She already had access to the security systems and knew enough about such things to take it from there. She briefly studied the hospital layout and records of who was currently on duty, paying particular attention to morgue security (one cop – real, not rent-a-cop), staffing (Dr. Patricio, a Medical Examiner, and one medical orderly), and the name of the senior nurse on duty at the time (Irina Sokal). She then erased all security tapes for the last two hours – more than twice as much as she needed to do – and turned off all cameras. Then she picked up a random piece of paper and headed for the morgue.

-“Miss Sokal told me to bring this to Dr. Patricio.”

The nurse handed over the paper (which was actually the new menu for the hospital cafeteria). The cop looked suitably puzzled.

-----“I don’t understand. Why… ahhh!!!”

The cop froze, suddenly aware of the muzzle of a silenced pistol pressed under her chin.

-“Shhh! Now… carefully… open the door.”

Once inside the examining room, she shoved the cop toward the very surprised Medical Examiner and hospital orderly. She had never intended to pull the trigger in the outside hallway. The chances of someone hearing it, even with the silencer, would be too great. But here behind the heavy door that separated the morgue from the more traversed sections of the hospital, it wasn’t a problem. Two of the examining tables held bodies covered with sheets, as did a gurney that had been wheeled in a few minutes ago. One wall was covered with numbered doors closed on storage drawers.

-“SLOWLY unbuckle that gun belt and slide it towards me.”

The cold, emotionless tone of the White Rabbit’s voice, and her unwavering pistol, compelled obedience. The now-unarmed cop and the two frightened medical women stood beside each other and waited.

-“Good. Now which drawer contains Miss Sims, the accountant from the Devereux corporation?”

Dr. Patricio checked her clipboard, though she was shaking so badly she almost dropped it.

----“It… it’s drawer number 6.”

-“Open it.”

The body was covered by a sheet.

-“Remove the sheet.”

----“I… I… all right.”

Sayaka smiled as she recognized the beautiful body she had had so much fun with on the woman’s desk, remembered the discolored bruise over the solar plexus, where she had struck the killing blow afterwards. She turned her attention back to the three women standing there with their hands raised. Damn! Dr. Patricio was sexy. She was in her early thirties but the most attractive of the three. How was it possible for a woman to be that curvy? She told herself that sanitizing Miss Sim’s corpse would require all the solvent she still had with her, and that she didn’t have time to – really – enjoy the Medical Examiner. Who knew when the next batches of Sayaka’s victims would arrive? But she would indulge herself just a little bit.

-“All right. Now all of you strip.”

The young orderly looked shocked. The cop looked defiant.

-----“I will NOT! What do… AGHH!!!”

Sayaka shot her in the stomach – a fatal wound but not an… instantly fatal… one. The cop writhed on the ground whimpering in agony. The young orderly looked like she was about to scream. Though the scream would probably never be heard from within the isolated morgue, Sayaka shot her through the throat just to make sure. Dr. Patricio looked like she was about to faint. She had examined so many corpses to determine cause of death or look for clues in criminal case, but she had never before seen anyone killed before her eyes.

-“Do you think that bitch is glad she refused now?”

By the time the good doctor was completely nude, the cop was dead. DAMN! What a body! Sayaka had half suspected the doctor might be wearing a corset or something similar. But no, those amazing curves were real. It was such a pity the assassin wouldn’t be able to “play” with her.

----“Wha… what are you going to do?”

Those magnificent breasts bounced… magnificently… when Sayaka put a .40 caliber bullet into the doctor’s chest.

She turned her attention to the now-cold body of the receptionist and quickly but carefully wiped it down, ensuring that no trace of the assassin’s DNA would be identifiable. Then she took one last look at Dr. Patricio’s body. The woman lay on her side. Sayaka rolled her onto her back with the sole of her foot and picked up her panties from the floor, placing them over the lifeless eyes – one more “trademark style” kill.

As she headed for the exit in the storage area, again carrying the stack of linens to conceal her pistol, she passed a grim looking policewoman and two orderlies, taking two more sheet-covered gurneys to the morgue. The White Rabbit figured she had about 90 seconds until her handiwork was discovered. As soon as she was out of sight from any prying eyes, she sprinted to the parking lot and her rented car – still dressed as Ayami Petoriyacowa. She would get rid of the nurse’s uniform later. As the car pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, her more-than-human hearing detected alarm bells behind her.

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Sayaka’s head was spinning as he studied the package of materials the Colonel had sent her before crossing into the warzone. While still on this side of “the frontier”, Colonel Davis could send and receive material that was unlikely to be intercepted. But now she had crossed into the “Montana Territory” and any correspondence between them was likely to be inspected by military censors.” The colonel had indeed sent her a visor that… should… protect her from the paralyzing strobe. But she had also sent some handwritten tables for encoding messages in “ordinary” letters, along with strict instructions that these should be used to the minimum extent possible. Even if the letter were inspected by censors, a single message, if encoded properly, would probably be safe. But the more examples any counterintelligence personnel had to work with, the better the chances they would detect that something was fishy.

Sayaka wondered if the colonel was just being paranoid. The assassin understood that any letters between her and Mickey would probably be inspected by censors as a matter of course, but mostly to see if any militarily significant information was being revealed inadvertently. Why would “CI” personnel get involved unless the ordinary censors saw a “red flag”? Still, the colonel had come from an intelligence/Special Operations background. And Sayaka supposed paranoia about things like this was pretty much standard. She thought too about the methods that Millicent had instigated for when “White Rabbit” communicated with her regarding assassination contracts. Sayaka herself was more oriented towards action than skullduggery, but intended to abide by Mickey’s injunctions, including those about making sure no one else ever saw those tables. The Colonel was risking the firing squad, and Sayaka knew it.

It was just that the encrypting/decrypting with the charts and tables Mickey had sent her would be a real pain… No simple substitution codes for Colonel Davis…

Still, the White Rabbit was in a good mood. Even her genetically enhanced physique had required a rest after the adrenaline rush from three days previously. She had killed more than 40 women in approximately 12 hours and the excitement – the sexual thrill – of so many kills in so short a time, at almost literally been a like a drug to her. But she had more-or-less recovered by now and was studying the colonel’s package, as well as the computer she had stolen from Devereux’s office. As she had suspected, the notebook she had removed from Devereux’s body (she still wished she had… questioned… and then killed the computer hacker personally rather than have her fall victim to the still-unknown .22 caliber assassin – the only blot on an otherwise near-perfect night) had contained, among other information, the passwords to open the locked files in Devereux’s computer. Some of the information she had found she didn’t understand, the apparently critical importance of “Generation 5” (Sayaka herself was Gen-6… why was an older version so apparently important?) But she had found something far more important regarding herself, and her ability to penetrate Pricom security and take revenge on Dr. Fontaine. Mickey had worried that, in addition to the dual-frequency strobe light that was so devastating against White Rabbit, other weaknesses had been genetically engineered into her biochemical and physiological makeup; a chemical sensitivity and a sonic trigger that would both incapacitate or otherwise interfere with her abilities. But according to the Devereux’s files, which Devereux herself had hacked from Pricom, the sonic trigger didn’t actually work, and the chemical trigger was much too slow-acting to be a practical defense. As for the dual-frequency strobe, Sayaka still shuddered at the memory (was it really only a few weeks ago that she had invaded Colonel Davis’ office with the intent to kill her?) of how effective THAT was. But the colonel had sent her a visor to screen out the particular optical signals which would cause the White Rabbit problems. And Sayaka was confident that the colonel had done the job properly. Only Pricom’s security forces stood between her and revenge against Dr. Fontaine. The assassin’s smile was simultaneously lascivious and grim as she contemplated… dealing with… Pricom’s “elite” security.

But there was one thing she had to do first. Devereux had had a “mole” within Millicent Blandings’ organization – maybe even Millie herself. And Mickey had suspected that Dr. Fontaine had actually established that mole in the first place and then Devereux had discovered her identity and coopted her when she had hacked Pricom’s information systems. Devereux was dead but if Mickey’s hunch was right, the mole would still be reporting to Fontaine herself. Sayaka had to eliminate the mole before going after Fontaine. She could eliminate everyone in Millie’s household, of course. And if necessary she would do just that. But with the phone numbers she had gotten from that police precinct commander – Mason, that had been her name – she might be able to identify the mole and kill her without killing everyone else. She was working on a plan for how to do that. In the meantime, she supposed she should compose a message to the colonel, telling her what she had found out. It was just that the thought of those encryption tables gave her a headache.

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Colonel Davis had a headache of her own. The papers were full of stories about the horrendous coordinated terrorist attacks on a commercial consulting firm, a police station, and a hospital in Nashville, in the Alabama-Tennessee Administrative District. No one could think of any possible motive for the attacks, but the lethal efficiency and the extreme ruthlessness confirmed that it must have involved multiple highly-trained terrorists with some specific mission objective. Then too, the papers hinted at “other similarities” between the attacks, which the colonel assumed was their way of obliquely referring to Sayaka having taken sexual advantage of some of the victims before killing them. Colonel Davis had known she was going to attack Devereux’s group… but a police station and a hospital? WHAT ON EARTH was the girl thinking??? Not for the first time, the colonel wondered if she had done the right thing, recruiting this killing machine to prevent the Generations program from being re-started. But the Rubicon (Colonel Davis had always had an interest in classical history) had been crossed. Well… hopefully… Sayaka would send her an encrypted message, explaining what she had learned and (though it was probably just wishful thinking) asking for advice.

In the meantime, she forced White Rabbit from her mind. She was in a warzone now and not much time was available for “settling in”. As the G2, the General’s chief intel officer, for Major General Warren (Commanding General of the 2nd Armored Division (the “Witches of Athena” – whoever had come up with the division’s nickname also seemed to possess a classical bent)); she had to get up to speed very quickly on the flood of information that daily inundated the 2nd Armored headquarters. Both the Texans and the Quebecois would love to cut the corridor that connected the American Confederation’s eastern territories with their western and Alaska territories. And though the Confederation was stronger than either the République du Québec or the Empire of Texas individually, things would get very grim if the two hostile powers were to ally. Fortunately, the Quebecois and the Texans hated each other as much as they hated the Confederation.

The colonel allowed her mind to briefly wander back to when she had first met the then-Major Warren. The colonel’s current nemesis, General Gayle, had been a Lieutenant Colonel commanding the 4th Ranger Battalion. Major Warren had commanded one of the Ranger companies (usually a captain’s billet but Warren had only just been promoted to major and during the intense fighting occurring during the liberation of Arkansas, she had been left in place for a few months, until a suitably competent replacement could be found. An elite unit, the Rangers got some of the most high-risk missions and giving a company command to a less-than-capable officer would have been disastrous. The Special Forces group that young 1st Lieutenant Michele Davis was assigned to was acting in direct coordination with Gayle’s 4th Rangers, and Michele had gotten to know both Gayle and Warren pretty well. Gayle had been SUCH a good commander in those days; tough, smart, brave… the colonel reminded herself that Gayle was still all of those things. It would be a mistake to attribute her rise to the rank of Lieutenant General, and to command of IV Corps, as being solely due to her political connections. No doubt those had helped Gayle along. But she was at bottom an extremely competent soldier. But somewhere along the line she had also gotten too… ambitious. All good officers were ambitious, but Gayle had reached the point where her own advancement seemed to have become synonymous in her own mind with the success of the Confederation armed forces. To that end, she had enabled Dr. Fontaine and Pricom to ruin Colonel Davis’ old brigade, using the soldiers as guinea pigs for Fontaine’s experiments to try to create a physically superior, but reliably obedient, “super-soldier”. Davis suspected General Gayle saw herself as a Julius Caesar, a Napoleon; a military commander who through her own brilliance and strength of will could save the republic from the corrupt politicians. Well, there were no doubt plenty of corrupt women in the Confederation’s civilian government. But a “caudilla”, a savior on a white horse, was not the way. The colonel forced those thoughts from her mind as well. She had work to do.

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Lieutenant Garcia was exhausted, and she ached to her very core as she languidly showered. Every muscle in her well-toned body had been pushed beyond any previous experience during the preceding three weeks. She was a mass of bruises. But the most painful injury was on her left breast – an ugly purple bruise with two barely-closed punctures where Sgt. Kaminski had pounded in the “blood wings”.

Blood wings were a hazing ritual and rite of passage at the Airborne School – strictly against regulations but near-universally cherished by those who had received them. When Angela Garcia had completed her last jump, Sgt. Kaminski had placed the lieutenant’s newly-won wings, her parachutist’s badge – without the protective coverings for the pins, against her chest and punched them into Angela Garcia’s breast. The lieutenant had thought she might pass out from the pain. Even now, more than three hours after the graduation ceremony, the pain made her dizzy. Kaminsky, the Platoon Sergeant and Lead Instructor for the training platoon to which Lieutenant Garcia had been assigned, certainly made the most of her opportunity. How often did sergeants get to punch commissioned officers? Blood wings were the type of ritual that very intense training courses employed as intense graduation rite of passage. “Outsiders” thought such things mindlessly brutal and barbaric, but that who had completed the course cherished them. The pain was very real, but it would pass. The pride at being Airborne would endure.

She wouldn’t have traded the feeling for anything!

All right, that last part wasn’t… completely… true. She would have traded the pain in her chest for the feeling of the colonel’s hands and mouth… Lieutenant Garcia blushed and forced the thought from her mind. Colonel Davis was too disciplined, too “old school” in her beliefs, to become involved with a subordinate officer. It wouldn’t do any good to daydream about it. But the day after tomorrow Lieutenant Angela Garcia would board the train that would take her to Fort Billings. She couldn’t help thinking about seeing Colonel Davis again, even if they would no longer be working in the same office. What would the colonel think? Mild mannered, nerdy, computer geek Angela Garcia – Airborne!

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“Kathy Takagi” silently climbed out of Millicent Blandings’ bed, being careful not to awaken the sleeping information broker. “Kathy” had returned from her assignment three days ago and had contacted the hacker “Miss Smith” that first night back. Using the password she had surreptitiously obtained, she logged into Millie’s computer to see if “Miss Smith” had obtained the information the White Rabbit was looking for, the information she would need in order to figure out who Dr. Fontaine’s mole was. She would… interrogate… and then eliminate the mole before going after Fontaine. Glancing back at Millie’s voluptuous form sprawled on the bed, Sayaka tried to make sense of her feelings. Two months ago she would have simply killed everyone in the household, six women in all, counting the two additional bodyguards Millicent had recently hired. Why was she suddenly trying to find a way to avoid killing the ones she didn’t have to? The fact that some of the women were probably innocent of any cooperation with either the late Miss Devereux or Dr. Fontaine, was meaningless. Sayaka had no qualms about killing innocent people, had in fact massacred several dozen women, most of whom were probably innocent of any crime, in Nashville just a week ago. Yet, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand, she was now making an effort to avoid (if possible) killing everybody. Not having an answer, she contented herself with watching Millie’s naked breasts rise and fall with her breathing, then let her gaze trail down the smooth, flat stomach to the blonde tangle of pubic hair. She wondered whether she would kill the woman soon; and knew that, despite her long-term sexual relations with information broker and fixer, she would have no regrets about killing Millicent Blandings herself. It was just how she had been “programmed”.

Kathy/Sayaka’s reverie was interrupted by an incoming response from “Miss Smith”. The White Rabbit smiled as she read the information – everything the hacker was able to find out about the phone numbers she had gotten from the late Commander Mason. With this information she thought she would be able to figure out who the mole was. And then, on to Pricom. She electronically transferred the agreed-upon funds from one of her secret bank accounts to Miss Smith’s account, erased all record of her activities over the last twenty minutes, and logged out. As she climbed back into bed and snuggled back up against the sleeping information broker, she sensed things were going well.

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For the colonel, things were going very badly. Sayaka’s letter had arrived that day, but it wasn’t until late at night that the colonel had time to decrypt it. Colonel Davis felt something close to panic as she read and re-read the message in the privacy of her quarters. Sayaka had found a file in Devereux’s computer that discussed the chemical and sonic triggers for the incapacitation protocol that Pricom had tried to develop to enable them to defeat the Gen-6 prototypes if they went out of control. But according to the file, the sonic trigger didn’t work and the chemical trigger was too slow acting to be effective. With the visor the colonel had devised, Sayaka was confident she was protected against her only weakness, the dual frequency strobe that caused the optical trigger. From the letter, Sayaka intended to move against Pricom shortly.

The colonel concentrated, trying to recall the details of the redacted files she had been shown two and a half years ago (give or take a couple of months). Something wasn’t adding up. Based on the redacted files, the colonel had been almost sure that at least one of the two other triggers (the sonic trigger, if she had to guess) was also effective. How to square that with Devereux’s file, hacked from Pricom’s computers, that showed neither was effective. As Colonel Davis sifted the evidence in her mind, her vague fears became more concrete. Dr. Fontaine, Pricom’s brilliant behavioral scientist… had she created a false file, anticipating that her rival Devereux would hack it and that it would eventually come into Sayaka’s hands? “Are you really that smart, Dr. Fontaine? Did you… plan… all this to lure Sayaka into a trap?” And that was only the second scariest possibility suggested by the White Rabbit’s letter.

The scariest part of the letter was Sayaka’s casual mention of the emphasis on Gen-5 in Devereux’s file. Davis had assumed the Oversight Group intended to re-start the Gen-6 project. Could they really be so insane as to try to restart Gen-5… to believe they could control Gen-5??? A chill ran down Michelle Davis’ spine as she thought back to her encounter with the one surviving Gen-5 specimen. The colonel had been given access to interview her as she worked on her analysis for the Bright Angel report. She forced the memory from her mind, especially since she suspected… No… Don’t Think About It! Sayaka of course had no clue. As the only surviving Gen-6, the girl naturally assumed she was more advanced then Gen-5. But in fact, Gen-5 had been by far the more expensive and ambitious project. Gen-6 had been a scaled back experiment after the problems with Gen-5.

At astronomical expense, four Gen-5 prototypes had been created. SP-G502 had died of a massive brain hemorrhage, two hours after having been “awakened”. SP-G501 and SP-G504 had both died in a similar time span, though for no apparent reason. Privately the colonel suspected they had both “willed themselves to death”, choosing to die rather than live with what they were. But SP-G503, the girl Colonel Davis had interviewed… don’t think about her… but the colonel couldn’t help thinking about her. It wasn’t that the girl was evil. In fact, Davis had pitied her, and almost liked her. But… she was terrifying in an… uncanny… way; terrifying in a way even Sayaka wasn’t. No, they couldn’t be planning on re-starting Gen-5! But the colonel didn’t believe herself. Fontaine, having observed Sayaka “in the wild”, having gathered her data, now wanted her back… not to produce a “controllable” Gen-6 (or at least that was secondary). Dr. Fontaine wanted Sayaka back to study her to produce a controllable Gen-5!

Could things get any worse, she wondered? The problem with that question was that the answer was almost always “yes”. There was a knock on the door of her quarters.

-------"Colonel Davis? It’s Staff Sergeant Dupree.”

--“What is it, Sergeant?”

-------“The CG wants you to report to Headquarters ASAP. Corps is inbound and will be landing at the airfield in two hours.”

The “CG” was Major General Warren, Commanding General of 2nd Armored Division. "Corps" was the IV Corps Commander… Lieutenant General Gayle!