Seth: Futuristic Spy Romance (Cyborgs: More Than Machines) (3 page)

Years ago, on a training base on earth …

Anastasia finished third, just ahead of several other recruits in tiptop shape. She struggled not to pant, having sprinted the last half mile in order to secure her spot. She never did catch the guy from the wall who had effortlessly outpaced her. She found him, though, as she crossed the last hurdle.

Chatting with a pretty sergeant while sipping from a canteen
, he didn’t even appear as if he’d exercised. No heavy breathing or giant wet armpit stains. Not that she bore any either. Her antiperspirant was heavy duty and lathered on, but still, given he’d beaten her and the others by a fair stretch, he should have borne some sign of strain. The jerk.

Catching her evil glare, h
e tossed her an easy grin along with his canteen. She caught it one handed and hesitated only a moment before unscrewing it to drink. The flutter in her tummy had nothing to do with the fact she drank from the same bottle his lips had touched. She was too mature at twenty for such a girlish reaction. But she wasn’t above petty jealousy that demanded she do something violent to the perky blonde sergeant when she took a bite from her protein bar and offered golden boy the rest.

As if sensing her irritation, he wink
ed in her direction. Just that. A single wink then turned away and ignored her. Good. Because his disinterest, whether feigned or not, made things easier. Anastasia had a firm policy of no fraternizing with other recruits, and not just because the military policies mandated it. Everyone knew it was just asking for trouble to screw people you had to work and live with every day.

Sidling over to
a shady spot, she enjoyed the few moments of respite allowed as those in charge waited for the rest of the recruits to come straggling across the finish line. Big ol’ Charlie was last, kind of. Slow and steady, he lumbered to the finish line, but he didn’t arrive alone. He toted a red-faced wheezing body slung over one shoulder.

With everyone done the grueling course
, their lieutenant took charge. “Attention!” he bellowed. Bodies scrambled to line up. Feet slammed together. Hands shot straight down to their sides. Gazes focused ahead.

It didn’t matter
that they’d done this in seconds. Their CO still berated them. “You have got to be the sorriest excuses for recruits I’ve ever seen,” yelled the lieutenant. “If I had my way, I’d kick all your asses out. As it is, I’m feeling lenient today. Three laps around the quad for all of you.”

Ah damn.
She knew better than to groan aloud at the punishment. Someone else though hadn’t gotten the memo. A single whine followed the announcement.

The lieutenant smiled, an evil grin
, as he said, “Make that four laps, you lazy laggards. Dismissed.”

With crisp salutes, the group dispersed.
A bunch immediately set off at a sedate jog. Anastasia made to follow but stopped as the lieutenant barked her name along with several others. “Privates Seth Murray. Horace Dempsen. Anastasia Kettle.” One by one, the ten people he called halted and spun around to line up in front of their commanding officer.

Anastasia did a mental fist pump. All the names called had finished in the
top ten of the endurance run. She wondered if the rumor about the secret mission was true. She also wondered which of the names belonged to Captain America. If they were called in order of arrival, then that would make him Seth. As if she cared. As far as she was concerned, he was the competition. The only interest she had in him was how to beat his ass in the next round of whatever test the military would choose to subject them to.

Hopefully, a mental one.
When it came to smarts, Anastasia didn’t worry. Much. With the military, a person never knew what to expect. They were known for breaking even the proudest recruit down and rebuilding them into the perfect soldier.

“You
ten need to follow me.” No explanation. No clue as to why. Just an order to follow.

It was then Anastasia noted they had company.
A short little man, his wispy hair combed over a prominent bald spot, wearing in an ill-pressed suit with rounded glasses perched on a pug nose, cleared his throat. The lieutenant turned and bent so that the newcomer could mutter something unintelligible. Whatever it was, the lieutenant didn’t mind because he shrugged before he shouted, “Private Passeaux, get your fat ass back here. You’re needed too.”

Curious.
Charlie, the behemoth, was the only one in their group who hadn’t finished in the upper group. But no one could doubt the strength of his body.
I just hope the next test doesn’t involve arm wrestling, or I’m screwed.

In single file, they marched after the lieutenant
, while the guy in the suit quick-walked to keep up. He took them through the training grounds, past the barracks, and tortured them by ignoring the mess hall, where the wafting smell of food made her tummy grumble.

They
trekked through a fair portion of the base to an unmarked building with a swipe pad bolted next to a thick metal door. The short civilian, or so she assumed given his lack of uniform, pulled forth a keycard from under his wrinkled button-up shirt. The chain it hung on had just enough slack for him to lean forward and scan it. With just the slightest whisper of sound, the door swung open.

That was only the first of the many security checkpoints. A pair of soldiers manned a square reception area upon entry. One by one,
each recruit walked through a body scanner then stood still with arms over their head and legs akimbo for a pat-down. They went through this process three times before they reached a floor several levels underground. No one spoke a word, not even the few people they passed in the halls. Only the clomping of their combat boots broke the sterile silence.

Their journey ended at a nondescript door. This one just required a thumb reading from the
bespectacled fellow. It slid open, and he gestured them in. Talk about anti-climactic. Anastasia gazed around at the practically empty white room with the dozen gray bucket seats bolted to the floor.

“Park your asses and be quiet until someone comes to get you.”
Brusque command given, the door slid shut behind their lieutenant and the balding man.

With shrugs and curious glances around, everyone grabbed a seat. Only the shuffle of clothing as they shi
fted position broke the stagnant quiet, for the first hour at least. Anastasia noted several of the men and the one other female tried to catch a few winks. Their eyes closed, their bodies relaxed, and one even snored.

How can they sleep?

Anastasia was too keyed up.
I wonder what’s next. What do they want us for?

Restless, h
er roving gaze touched on that of Captain America, or so she’d dubbed him. He slumbered as well. Or did he?

As if sensing her glance, h
e stopped feigning slumber and his eyes popped open. She pretended to peek at a spot over his head. A curve of his lips indicated he’d caught her looking.

More minutes passed. Her tummy rumbled, the sound discernible but not alone.
She and the other recruits had not eaten anything since breakfast, hours ago at this point.

S
ilence still prevailed, and Anastasia tired of it.
How long are they going to make us sit here doing nothing? And when are we going to get some food?
She was getting close to the point where she’d settle for gnawing on her chair if it did something to ease the ache in her belly.

More time passed, and even those who’d slept began to fidget. And squirm. But no one quite dared to disobey the lieutenant’s last order.

Captain America was the first to crack. He slapped his hands together, the stark sound explosive after all the quiet. “So, guys and gals. Exactly what do you think they want with us?”

No one said a word, although Anastasia was tempted to
“shhh” him. Something about the place they found themselves in was creepy. Despite the fact that the walls seemed like seamless white panels, she’d have wagered someone watched and listened. For all she knew, how they acted was the next part of their test.

Apparently, Captain America didn’t hold the same theory, or he didn’t care.
“Lively bunch, I see. I’m Seth, by the way, for those who don’t know me yet. I like drinking beer. Darts. Corny horror movies and the ladies.” He tossed her a smile that highlighted a slight dimple in his cheek.

Again, no one dared reply, but she saw
some of the group peer around, eyes anxious, as if they expected retaliation for his speech to come out of nowhere. Personally, she did too. She just made sure not to show it.

“Wow. You guys are
a tough crowd. Or as my dad would say, Baaah.” Whatever the joke, he found it funny, or so his amused snicker indicated. Seth hopped up from his seat and stretched. Anastasia envied him. Her ass had gone numb a while ago. The rule breaker paced over to the door, and he tried the handle. No surprise, it was locked.

When he knocked on it, to the cadence of
“Shave and a Haircut”, Anastasia couldn’t help but hiss, “Would you sit down and shut up before you get us all in trouble?”

“She speaks! Be still my racing heart.” Down to his knees he dropped, hands over the left side of his chest, eyes sparking with mischief.

“Stop it,” she whispered.

“Or what? They’ll starve us to death? Not tell us what’s going on? Already happening,
gorgeous.” He sprang to his feet and spoke to the ceiling. “Hey, whoever’s listening, do you mind sending us some food? We’re starving in here. Something to drink, too, might be nice while we’re waiting.”

Before Anastasia could berate him again, a panel slid open in the wall
, and a tray slid out with a white cardboard box. Seth snagged it and lifted the lid. He smiled. “Thank you,” he called out.

He
plopped down in a chair, package on his lap. From its depths, he pulled a cellophane wrapped sandwich.

She practically drooled as he sank his teeth in.
Is that ham I smell? And mustard?
She’d kill for a bite.

He must have caught her covetous stare because he offered her the other half. “Hungry? Have some.
”

Forget the order to stay sitting. She practically dove on the offered sandwich, like a piranha on fresh meat. Stale bread, processed cheese
, and Spam made to smell like ham had never tasted so good.

As she chewed, she noted the others staring at Seth. A few actually looked murderous.

Seth pulled out another sandwich. “I have more. They sent enough for us all, if you’re brave enough to get your asses out of those chairs and come to get them.”

It seemed hunger was the key into getting them to disobey.
As the food got passed around, the other recruits began to converse in low tones. Oddly enough, Seth wasn’t one of them.

Placing the box on the floor, he left his seat once again
, bottle of water in hand. She tracked him with her eyes as he paced the edges of the wall, seeming to stare at nothing.

Curious, she joined him. When he paused to gaze intently at a blank white spot, she couldn’t help but ask, “What are you looking for?”

“A way out, of course.”

“
Are you nuts? The lieutenant told us to stay here.”

“Indeed he did.”

“So why are you looking to flout a direct order?”

“Because I think this is a test.”

“What’s a test?”

“
This room. The waiting. Everything.” He waved a hand vaguely to gesture around them.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Well, wasn’t it you who initially told me that the endurance run was one phase?”

“Yes.”

“Then how do you know this room isn’t another?”

The word
“because” stuck to her tongue. How did she know? “Because this is the military. They expect recruits to follow orders.”

“
And the regular recruits are. They’re the ones running around the quad until they puke. I think whoever selected us wants something more.”

“More
, as in?”

“
Take a look around. You might not know most of these people being new here, but I do. I know for a fact at least three of the folks in here have IQs greater than one thirty.”

Make that at least four. At
one forty-one, Anastasia scored high on the Mensa scale. “So they’re looking for smart recruits.”

“For the most part.
Charlie is average, but he has other qualities. Like strength. Which is clue number two. Now I think they’re looking for something else.”

“You mean like most likely to cause trouble?” She couldn’t help but smirk.

He didn’t take offense. “Maybe. Or the person, or people, most likely to think outside of the box. In this case, a real box. I saw this in a movie once. This psycho killer put a bunch of people in a building and expected them to solve a series of puzzles in order to escape.”

“I think you’re talking about
Saw
, and I’d hardly equate the military and their selection process with a fictional killer.”