New Assignments

It was a very interesting day at the office today.

First of all, I had to report to the NecroLab (as I call it) to show the Lab Geeks that I have familiarized myself with the new equipment they installed on my body after the Rocky Mountain grenade incident. I apparently satisfied them with my movements and response times, since I was given a release to return to duty. The Head Geek, Dr. Daniel Bernstein--the complete package of Geekdom, from the pencil case in his dressshirt pocket, to the rat-like mannerisms, mussed up hair, and the semi-distracted look whenever he is talking to you--wanted to see about installing some additional 'hardware'.

Basically, they wanted to install weaponry on my body like I am some sort of fricking combat machine. Apparently my success in the mountain raid, and in the incident with the armored car, convinced the bastard Kampmann and his little buddy Dr. Bernstein, that I would make one Hell of a Terminator-type killer. They had these strange little contraptions they wanted to 'install' on my arms with all sorts of wires and other assorted crap that would have given me an 'integrated firing system' and would have allowed me to target with my eyes.

My response to this was rather simple. I found out that I am exactly strong enough to wrap a little mini-gun around the neck of that smug little prick Bernstein! You should have seen the look on his face when I broke the first of the pair of guns in half, and then again when he tried to stop me on the second one--I took that one and wrapped it around his neck! All six of his assistants were trying to pull us apart, which they failed to do, until I was satisfied as his face went from a ghost white of fear, to a satisfying purplish hue.

I wasn't quiet either as I was doing this, but I don't think I said a single word that would be publishable here--I try to write the way I speak normally, but this incident went beyond the pale of what I am comfortable repeating here.

I did however state a new credo of mine, one that I didn't know that I had at the time. I have determined that I will not, under any circumstance, use a firearm. The risk of causing dire injury or death to innocent bystanders or even the risk of killing a suspected perpetrator who may be innocent is just too great. I will NOT end anyone else's life the way mine was ended. I made the decision right there and then, that I would not carry a firearm of any sort, especially not one linked to my nervous system in any way, but that I would stick to non-lethal force when I got into confrontations.

I am not exactly sure why this choice became so clear to me in that instant when Bernstein was beaming with such pride and obvious glee at what I would now be able to do, but it just became clear in that moment of rage and perhaps fear at the thought of what they were trying to make me into. Maybe I watched too many cartoons of superheroes when I was young, or perhaps it was the fact that I had seen and loved such movies as Robo-Cop and the Terminator series, but I just could not allow those last shreds of humanity that I do have left become lost inside this killing machine they wanted to make me into.

As his assistants were trying to untangle their gun contraption from his neck, I left the NecroLab and went looking for Drake.

I found the bastard in the hallway, flanked by a couple of what were probably meant to be impressive looking Goons with Guns (GWG's), heading towards the lab. He stopped dead when he saw me. I pointed towards a nearby interview room and followed him inside. Wisely the GWG's stayed outside.

We had it out pretty damn good in that room. The walls were shaking as I thundered my outrage at his ass. One of the GWG's made the mistake of peeking his head in the room, but quickly closed the door when he saw the newly disconnected telepnhone headed his way. Drake kept to his normal voice, showing no emotion, other than that smugness of his, but he tried to convince me of the error of my ways, and of how important it is that I continue to participate in 'The Program' so they can fully assess what my capabilities are. I came as close as I have yet to seeing exactly how badly he needs air to breathe, but restrained myself in the end.

Eventually, I calmed down enough to point out that I had more than fulfilled any requirement of his amoral, and probably illegal, program, and that I wanted to be reassigned and be treated as a real agent.

He narrowed his beady eyes at that, and said merely, "I see. Well I am very disappointed in you. But if that is the way you feel, I'll see what I can find for you. Luckily, another one of your previous team members appears to be now available for his next step."

I stood there stunned into silence and reflection at what he had just said, and with the way he had just said it as he turned on his heel calmly and walked out. As he closed the door behind him, he looked back and said, "You can go home for now Agent Bones, report to me tomorrow at 9 AM, and I will let you where you will be reassigned to. You have provided extremely valuable information and insight."

With that he left. I felt hollow and empty as I realized another one of my former team mates had been killed.

I also wondered how much of a surprise it was to Drake that another test subject just became available.