A Stolen Life

Chapter One
-Informal Introductions-

A dark figure, cloaked in shadow, worked its way through the Nevada Desert, moving silently on foot over the cool sand. The sky was a dark midnight blue, only the slightest traces of red left on the western horizon from the recently set sun. After many moments of silent jogging, a tall cement fence came into the view of the shadowed figure, and the mysterious person turned course, jogging towards the complex out of view of the tall reinforced-chain-link fence that served as a gate, topped by a thick spiraling of razor-style barbed-wire.

As the figure drew closer, nothing but a darker shade in the black surroundings, the guards at the gateway heard only the slight shuffling of feet on sandy ground. A pair of hands reached out from the darkness, grabbing firmly the head of one guard, and twisting hard, snapping his neck, before moving to do the same to the other. Quickly, using a pair of wire-cutters with expert ease, the figure went about making a sizeable hole in the fence, and stole within, keeping to the wall surrounding the area.

Inside, it appeared as one would never have thought; an elaborate military-style complex, with manned watchtowers, and a small door, leading into a sizeable building built into the face of a high cliff. Dotting the immediate area, were a few smaller buildings, cars parked next to a few of them, one or two men in lab coats walking around from one of these buildings to the other.

The dark figure quietly sidestepped its way around the wall, quietly moving towards the small door not too far off. Standing just outside the steely doorway, the figure moved its arm through the shadow to seize the handle, when the door swung open. A poor scientist found himself face-to-face with an experienced killer, an assassin in the night. Spinning on its front foot, the figure rendered a swift heel-kick to the side of the scientist's head, and he fell to the ground in a clump, blood seeping onto his white uniform from his ear as he lay motionless. The figure smirked silently, and stooped to pick up the scientist's keycard, and stepped through the now-open door, entering a dimly-lit hallway.

Fluorescent lights dotted the ceiling as the figure walked, and for the first time, the full features were revealed. The poor men who had fallen victim would have been surprised to learn that the attacker was a female, clad in a ninja-like suit of skintight black material, a mask covering all of her face and head but her intense violet eyes. Through the clinging material, one could easily see the soft curves of a fit and quite beautiful woman, but one with well-toned muscle, though not unattractively so.

Sighing ever so slightly, she pulled the mask from her face and tossed it aside, letting her dark burgundy-tinted hair fall over her shoulders, hanging freely to a comfortable area just below her shoulderblades. Coming to the lone door at the end of the hallway, she paused, glancing into the darkness beyond the windows to her right, straining to see into the black on the other side. After a brief moment, she turned, slipping the keycard into the appropriate slot beside the door, and, upon hearing the low beep, pulled the door open, stepping inside with a smile at the sight of a lone scientist, hunched over his dear computer.

'Perhaps I'll let this one live,' she thought to herself, making her way across the room silently, amazed the scientist didn't hear a sound and look up. A small smile crossed her bare rosy lips, as she shook her head minutely, opening a door on the far side of the room, entering into another hallway. This one was similar to the first, but it was longer, winding, with many turnoffs along its length, doors here and there, a few windows, though all were darkened and bare of human life.

She took special care walking down this hallway, picking her way through, turning here and there, until finally, she came to a section where the hallway widened, the lights a little more illuminating, a deep mahogany set of double doors at the end, like the rest of the doors, with a keycard slot next to it. Moving closer, she pressed her ear against the wood, straining to hear inside, but instead came to the realization that the beautiful doors were fake, that reinforced steel doors rested within. Shrugging nonchalantly, she turned her attention to the keycard slot, and inserted the card she had 'borrowed' from that now-deceased scientist. The little blue light next to the slot changed color, but it turned red rather than green, and the low beep did not sound this time.

'Damn it.. He doesn't have a high enough security rank!'

Narrowing her deep eyes, she looked at the security panel, and reached to her hip, where a small, flat, black pouch was secured to a leather belt around her waist. Pulling it free of its velcro grip, she unzipped the side, opening it to reveal a few different sized screwdriver heads, and supplies for picking locks, among other things. Pulling one of the smaller bits, she unscrewed the top panel on the keycard box, letting it hang on its wires. She reached inside with gloved hands, and snipped three wires with her wire-cutters, stripping the ends to reveal the copper wiring within. After doing this, she reattached the wires to different colors; red to green, green to blue, blue to red, and that telltale beep rang out, awakening her trademark cocky smirk.

Taking the time to put everything away, and reattach her case to her hip, she then turned to the door and tested the knob, which turned easily. Keeping her actions silent, she glanced down to her leather boots, checking the 9" blade stashed within, and pulled aside the door, stepping through the opening carefully, slowly, looking around.

The room was furnished with elegant style, most of the features dark. A black leather sofa sat to the left of the door, next to a bookcase holding a small library of business books, along with a few works of fiction. The carpet was a lush bloodred, the walls paneled in ebony wood. A low wood coffee table sat in front of the couch, and across the room, opposite the door, was a large desk, with a paper ledger, three black phones, a rolladex, and various other supplies upon it. On the side of this desk closest to the door, were a pair of small, comfortable-looking leather chairs, and on the opposite site was a larger black leather chair. It was in this chair that he sat.

He was a man, handsome enough, in his mid to late 40's, and looking well for his age. His neatly trimmed raven black hair showed not a single gray hair, his tanned face showing few wrinkles. Before him sat a tumbler, half-filled with scotch. From the other side of the room, she could smell the stench of hard alcohol staining the room, hovering in the air, obviously also on the man's breath.

He looked up at her, only the slightest surprise registering in his dark brown eyes, and spoke without standing to greet her.

"So, your pathetic company has sent a little girl to deal with me this time, have they? Well, darling, I can tell you now you're wasting both of our time."

He looked her over, smiling slightly in approval of her appearance, making her own eyes narrow and a fire light behind her violet eyes, making them shine with a crimson tint.

"But if you want to leave your own company, I could get you a nice comfy job right here with me," he said, smile widening as he winked and guestured to the sofa beside her with his glass.

Smiling cockily, a dark grin on an angel from the wrong side of the pearly gates, she strode further into the room, letting the heavy door swing shut behind her. She stopped feet away from his desk, one hand resting casually on the leather chair to her left.

"I take it you like what you see, Mister McCloy. That's very good, since it's going to be the last." Deliberately, she let her voice trail off, and his own smile faded to an unsure one.

"None of the others from your company knew my name. Who the hell are you Princess? Where d'ya get your information? Sleeping with the help around here? And yet you turn down my offer.."

Shaking her head in amusement, a stray wisp of near-black hair fell over her pale face, and she tossed it aside with a casual shake of her head.

"You know for a business man, you're quite the idiot. Maybe a little too much scotch for you," she replied, reaching over to take the glass from his hand, and bringing it to her lips, downing it in one long gulp, barely wincing from the high alcohol concentration. Finishing it, she threw the glass at the wall behind him, barely missing the right side of his head, and it shattered into many small pieces, tinkling to the floor.

He jumped, and rose to his feet, anger burning in his face, turning his tanned flesh rosy. He braced his hands on the desk before him, leaning over to glare at her.

"Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm damned sure you better get your tight ass outta here before I have to hurt that purty face of yours. And I asked you a qustion; Who are you?!"

She simply smiled at him, a sweet smile, but one which made him back up slightly.

"I'm your worst nightmare baby! And I'll tell you know, McCloy, only one of us is walking our tight ass outta here, and it sure ain't gonna be you," she replied, bending slightly to grasp the hilt of her blade in her right hand. Standing upright, her left hand once again moved to rest on the top of the chair beside her, testing the weight of her blade in her right hand, looking at it as if it were a beautiful butterfly, something to be looked at in near-awe, wondering about it.

But then she looked up, her violet eyes once again tinted red, and before McCloy had a chance to react, to defend himself, her fine blade was buried to the hilt, square in the left half of his chest. Immediately, he cried out, collapsing over his desk as she retracted her knife. His blood poured freely over the desk, staining his once-white ledger a deep scarlet. His heart skipped a few beats, and blood dripped from his mouth, gurgling as he tried to cry out, but he was slowly drowning in his own blood. He slumped to his floor, and the last thoughts his dying brain could conjure up, was how fitting to have a bloodred carpet and die such a death..




Chapter 2
-A Criminal's Home-Sweet-Home-

Sighing, she wiped the blood from her blade onto the man's black Armani suit, and slipped it back into her boot. She turned on her heels, and stepped back out of his office, following her way back into the first room with the scientist, the one she had previously entered, the man she had let live. Sometimes, ignorance is indeed bliss...

Finding her way quickly and silently through the shadows, she worked back towards the entrance to the sizeable hidden weapons base, and stole silently out through the hole in the main gates. After jogging about a hundred feet from the complex, she stopped, standing silently in the cool night, closing her bright eyes. A rare smile slipped across her lips, but vanished only moments later, when the faint, yet distinct, sound of a helicopter touched her ears from the distance. Opening her eyes, she immediately began to jog towards the sound, and soon the large, black, military-issue Apache chopper came into view, and slowly set down on the bare sand.

Quickening her pace, she ran towards the chopper, and one man, positioned behind a machine gun set upon a tripod, leaned out towards her. Her dark burgundy-tinted brunette hair whipped about her face as she ducked under the spinning propellers and took the masked man's hand, pulling herself into the chopper, which began to lift again even before she was aboard.

A couple hours, which seemed like days, passed before the chopper set down again, still shrouded under the cover of darkness, and she hopped out, followed closely by the gunman, and then the pilot. It was still the early hours of morning, sunrise still a few hours off, and so only the vague outline of black buildings against midnight blue sky could be seen, aside from the occasional spotlight from a watchtower briefly illuminating the black concrete ground.

Quickening her pace to a swift walk, the men rushed to catch up with her, the gunman whipping off his mask, a delighted smirk coming to his face as another man came to greet them.

He stood at the entrance to a large concrete structure, the doorway behind him brightly illuminated from within. He had deep, almost black colored hair, and light hazel eyes, filled with a burning of anger. He was clearly displeased, his eyebrows turned down in a sort of scowl as he watched the three approach. Clearly the man in charge, he wore a dark blue suit, two army medallions hanging from his left breast pocket, his black shoes polished to a bright shine, reflecting some of the light from behind his massive figure; he stood easily six-and-a-half feet tall, his posture perfect and erect, his arms held behind his back.

Almost the moment she came into his sights, the other two now lagging somewhat behind, he called out to her, his voice resonating with a badly concealed rage.

"Leila! What exactly do you think you're doing? Disobeying strict orders now are we? You know I could have you held in the cells for this, don't you?"

Rolling her bright eyes, Leila attempted to push past him, but he refused to budge. Taking a couple steps back, she stood directly before him and moved swiftly into a salute; and while the posture showed respect, her eyes sparkled with mischief.

He stood impatiently, glaring at her, moving his arms to cross over his chest, a large scar visible on the back of his left hand. However, Leila just smiled a sickly sweet smile of mock-innocence, and shook her head.

"Well? Ms. Talbot, I asked you a question, and don't you dare try to make a mockery of me. We've been up half the night trying to find your wherabouts, and as usual, you'd run off on your own again! Your insolence will not be tolerated, especially not now, so don't try my patience!"

"Oh come on Jonson. Did I know I could be held in the cells for running off like that? Well, yea! Do I care? Mmm.. no not really. Whether you like it or not, I'm the best this operation has got, and quite frankly you're stuck with me. And yes, if this is your cute little way of asking, I got the job done. You made it sound impossible in the briefing, but if you bothered to take a good look at the place, you'd notice it was seriously lacking in the security department," she replied, raising her voice and dropping her hand to her hip. Scowling, he turned and stalked off into the building, kicking something inside as he made his exit.

"Good job there Lee. Ya know, I always try to piss old Colonel Jonson off, but apparently you're the only one who can get him so wound up!" The gunman walked over to her, slinging an arm about her shoulders, a silly grin on his face, as the pilot walked in after Jonson.

"Please, Karl. I heard about the stunt you pulled last week. You nearly shot ol' Parker to hell! Why don't you do us all a favor and shoot yourself with that thing next time, hm?"
Leila smirked and pushed his arm from her shoulder before stepping into the main complex. Once inside, she headed up a plain metal staircase to her left, coming to the second floor. Winding through blackened hallways, she eventually came to a door marked simply 'L. Talbot' and pulled it open, stepping inside.

Flicking the light switch, she looked about her room, which closely resembled something that would be found in a disability home. There wasn't much in it; a bed, pushed into the right corner with a bedside table and lamp beside it, a small dresser pushed against the left wall next to a metal door which entered into a closet, and a small desk with a notebook computer on top of it, pushed into the left corner. There was one small window on the wall between the desk and the bed, but a heavy black drapery hung over it, blocking out any view, and any outside lights.

After stripping off her outfit, and putting her boots into the closet, she dressed in a pair of baggy black shorts, and a white muscle-shirt. She set her knife on her bedside table, and slid into bed, to once more wish for dreamless sleep, only to toss all night, disturbed by unknown terrors...

*****

Leila awoke in total darkness, though the clock on her nightstand read 5:00am. All she wanted was to roll over and sleep in, for once in her short life. But unfortunately, duty has a nasty habit of calling in the middle of the night.

She climbed out of bed, stretching, and turned on her lamp, leaving the heavy draperies in place to blot out the rising sun. Leaning over slightly towards her mirror, she pulled her hair back into a simple high ponytail, and exited the small room.

Walking down the hallway, all was dark, the thick cement walls and lack of windows guarding the way from any outside light. As she walked, the faint sound of one or two of the other men awaking could be heard, but most of them sleept deeply, and wouldn't wake up for another couple hours.

Finally, she came to the end of the narrow hallway, and opened another steel door, descending the stairway within, coming to the training room, which was like a gymnasium of sorts, with much fitness equipment dotting the large room.

Leila looked around, somewhat surprised to see a few of the guys doing their morning workout in the dimly-lit room. Shrugging to herself, she walked directly over to a punching-bag set up in one of the corners of the gymnasium.

She knelt by the wall, in the corner, and pulled out a small black gym bag, taking from it a set of bloodred handwraps. Getting to her feet, she wrapped them firmly around her hands and knuckles, and turned her attention back to the punching bag. Drawing back her right fist, she threw a hard punch at it, causing the heavy sand bag to swing violently. As it moved back towards her, she threw a swift kick in its direction, and continued a similar pattern, not pausing for a single break throughout her workout.


Two hours passed, and in that time men came and went, finishing their own morning routines in less than half an hour each, and continued on their way. Leila's eyes moved to a clock set in the corner, which read 07:00, and she finally backed away from the punching bag. She had sweat beading her bared skin, stray wisps of burgundy hair clinging, wet, to the sides of her face and forehead.

She ached now from head to toe, her muscles fighting against her every movement as she unwrapped her frail-looking hands. Once again, she gazed in amazement at her unbroken fingernails, smirking at the thought of countless other girls who would have turned down such a job on the basis of beauty sacrifices alone. But here, in Leila's case, it was obvious she wasn't a mere statistic.

She kept her nails long and bare, her face pale. She wore little or no makeup, but still her natural beauty was accentuated by the mystery that surrounded her very being. Her deep violet eyes and dark chestnut-burgundy hair offset her creamy complexion, making her beauty yet more prominent. Jewelery was a luxury in this place, one which Leila obviously cared nothing for. She wore no jewelery, aside from simple silver hoops in her earlobes.

Stretching now, she dropped her handwraps back into the bag and walked across the now-silent gym. The only slight sounds were those of her bare feet padding across the cool floor, and the soft ticking of the clock.




Chapter 3
-The End-

Sighing as she made her way down the artificially-lit hallway from her room after changing into a pair of figure-hugging black jeans and a dark grey tee, Leila gazed about herself, wondering just what Jonson would say this time. She had disobeyed his direct orders many times before, and of course, he always seemed very angry with her at the time. But she knew Jonson, and after enough time, he would drop the subject altogether, only to issue new orders and have her disregard them as well; and the never-ending cycle would continue over and over again.

But this time, when she had returned in the Apache, he looked upon her with such contempt she had never before seen. Usually he said more, but now she feared he was far too gone within his anger to dare speak more, for fear of losing control and attacking the woman. If such was the case, she thought, it was good that he had bitten his tongue. She had killed many men, and had no qualms about outing yet another employer. Her bosses really didn't seem to like her all that much, most likely because she had an intense problem with authority.

Yet here she was, a young woman, appearing only nineteen or twenty, with a wisdom far beyond her youthful appearance, working for some of the men with the highest authority and power in the world. A walking contradiction; men and women, friends and foes alike had often used this phrase to describe Leila. Everything she said, did, and even herself as a whole was a contradiction unto itself. She appeared frail, weak, withdrawn and calm. But, much like a caged wolf, the slightest thing could set her aflame, igniting the anger within her, and she would pounce, a danger to the lives of anyone who crossed her. A contradiction, or schizophrenia? Another topic many had argued; perhaps she just had multiple personalities.

Thinking about all of this brought an amused smirk to Leila's face and she walked along without actually seeing where she was going, her mind clouded within the heavy fog of her thoughts and memories. Yet she took the appropriate turns in the building, climbing the staircase in the corner, taking just the right amount of steps to save her from burning humiliation if she mis-stepped.

Finally walking through the heavy steel door into the meeting room, she snapped out of her daze to look upon the faces of the dozen or so other men and women in the room; all of whom gazed at her with a large displeased expression. Apparently she had succeeded in pissing the whole council off this time. Taking her seat without so much as an apology for being late, she gave herself a mental pat on the back and congratulated herself in her mind.

As soon as she took her seat, one of the other women pounced, standing and leaping to Leila's chair, pushing it against the wall with one hand pinned on each of the leather armrests. Unlike Leila, this girl was dressed very formally, and unlike the others, still did not look at all like a formal businesswoman. Her dark hair was pinned back, a few stray wisps of black smoke hanging freely from the top of her bun to hang recklessly down to her shoulders, and her wide-rimmed glasses slid down the bridge of her nose as she glared. She wore a black suit, knee-length skirt and sports coat, a pink top poking out from beneath.

Looking into the girl's almond-shaped brown eyes, Leila smiled in mock innocence, a sickeningly sweet grin that made the other woman narrow her eyes in anger.

"Oh Jessie, it's wonderful to see you too. Oh I have so much to tell you about my trip to the Nevada complex, but I'm afraid play time will have to wait 'til later dear." Leila's mocking words and sugary tone caused Jessica to clutch the arms of the chair ever tighter, her short nails digging into the worn black leather, her knuckles turning white.

"Leila, you know very well I was supposed to go with you! And you left me behind Again!! Wha-" Jessica's words got cut off by a booming male voice, and she turned in surprise, raising her eyebrows and lowering her head, slightly embarrassed. Leila turned to look at Jonson as Jessie slunk back to her seat, the sweet smile evaporating instantly.

Never before had she seen him so overwhelmed with anger. His face was a bright crimson red, and a vein could be seen throbbing at his temple. Leila could just imagine the blood pulsing throughout his entire body, his heart beating ever faster with the adrenaline anger had supplied. Tearing her gaze away, she raised an eyebrow and cut him off as he began to yell. The man uttered a single syllable, and Leila raised her right hand to stop his words.

Though it did momentarily silence him, it only increased his anger that one of his subordinates dared tell him what to do! He was the big man here, he was the boss, these were his people sitting around glumly, not hers!

He jumped to his feet, pounding both of his fists on the solid oak table before him, making everybody around start and jump with surprise; everybody aside from Leila who had leaned back in her chair and propped her sneakered feet up on the surface of the table.

"Everyone, leave us! No Jessica, you stay. We need to have a chat with little Lee here.."

It was painfully obvious that Jonson was fighting a losing battle with his temper, and quickly the men and woman stood and filed out of the room, fleeing to the cafeteria to gossip about everyone's strange behavior this morning. It wasn't every day Jonson flipped out, Jessica lost her temper and had an angry outburst, and Leila... Well, yes, it was actually every day that Leila talked back to and defied Jonson. But this morning she had pushed her luck a little too far.

Jonson paced the room recklessly for over a full minute, sorting his thoughts, trying to calm so as not to act on impulse. Despite himself, his strength, authority, and decades of military training, he knew not to go up against Leila. He above all others knew what she was capable of. It was he who brought her in and taught her how to use her strengths to their full capacity. And even then he knew what a risk she would be. But he was young and frivolous and didn't care. But oh, did he care now.

Jessica sat deathly silent, her eyes wandering between the two other people in the room. Not only was Jessica wary of Leila, she was frightened of Jonson. She'd worked at the complex nearly a year as Leila's partner, and throughout she had heard stories of her superiors. "Glory stories" the others had called them. But frankly, they scared the shit out of Jessica. She was more of a research girl, and had never killed a man. Well, not directly. She'd told Leila where a mark would be and when, and then Leila would take off on her own and get the job done, leaving Jessica in the dust. And while Jessica was angry that she was always left behind and never got to go out, for she wanted the glory, the excitement, a small part of her somewhere deep inside was glad that she rarely had to witness Leila's assassinal acts.

In fact, in university Jessie had studied medicine, and psychology. She'd wanted to be a nurse, and this is how her job began at the complex. Someone up top had seen fit to promote her to this new career in manslaughter, however. Secretly, Jessica thought that she had been made Leila's partner simply to keep an eye on the other girl.

Leila, however, crossed her arms over her chest, looking her nails over absently as Jonson paced, showing her boredom. She glanced up, noted that he still wasn't looking at her, and sighed. She wanted to get a start on tracking the next mark, and Jonson was wasting time. She removed her long legs from the desktop and leaned forward, resting forearms on her knees, and was about to put in her own two cents, when Jonson finally spoke up, the sudden sound stark against the previous silence and causing Jessica to start violently and gasp quietly.

"Well, Talbot... It seems that time and time again you've shown your true colors."

He began slowly, taking his time putting thought into words, taking a seat and looking at his subordinate with a calm expression. Too calm, as far as Jessica was concerned. But she knew what was coming. She'd walked into the meeting in time to hear the summary of their next course of action. Where she fit into everything, though, she hadn't a clue. He nodded to her, once, and she stood, walking to the door and stepping outside, closing it behind her. Once it latched shut and her footsteps slowly disappeared down the hallway, Jonson continued.

"We've come to see that you're a risk that the company and the government is no longer willing to take." He finished simply, matter-of-factly, leaving Leila to mull over his words. What he said was painfully clear, yet Leila only smirked.

"Jonson, you can't fire me. I'm the best you've got, whether the senior partners or whoever the hell runs this place see it or not. This is my job, my life. In case you've forgotten, I dropped everything and everyone when you brought me here. What do I have to go back to? If you think I'm leaving here willingly, you've got another thing coming. Besides, I know too much, and you know it. The information I've got stored away is much too valuable."

Leila spoke in even tones, though her words were obviously threatening in nature. How he figured he could 'fire' her and not risk losing everything, Leila didn't know. And she didn't care. She just wanted to finish and get back to work. Jonson had threatened to fire her on more than one occasion in the past, and had actually told her to pack her things and leave. But Leila knew better than to take him seriously. Why should this time be any different?

But for the strangest reason, Jonson smiled then, a dark smile of an evil little boy whose mother had just discovered he'd killed the family pet. A little boy who couldn't care less that she knew. And that expression put a chill into Leila, though she didn't, she wouldn't, show it outwardly.

At that time, the door opened, and Jessica walked back in, standing next to the open doorway as two men in black suits followed her inside. Leila raised her brows with curiosity and a hint of concern as she looked at their solemn faces, then to Jessica who avoided looking at her, and finally to Jonson, who still wore that dark, triumphant grin.

"Well, Leila, where you're going, nobody will believe what you have to say, so it doesn't really matter..." Jonson drawled out, and as Leila moved to stand, to demand what he was on about, she felt a sharp pain at the side of her neck, and a burning sensation as some volatile liquid was injected into her jugular. She choked out a single vehement curse before all went black...


Chapter 4
-The Beginning-

Cold. That was the first thing that registered to Leila's senses. It was cold. She struggled to a state of semi-consciousness and tried in vain to look about herself and assess her condition. Aside from being almost completely numb, and a dull throbbing of pain at her neck, she was aware of only the cold. No, she wasn't harmed in any physical sense. Her senses, however, were hazy.

She tried to sit up, and that was when she came to her next realization. She was in motion, a vehicle, with only cold steel below her to soften the bumps as they traveled over a rocky, uneven road. And she was no longer wearing her gym gear. Her feet were bare, and she was in what felt like a hospital gown, but closed at the back. A flimsy fabric that came to rest inches above the knee. Shapeless and loose.

And she couldn't move. Her hands were bound behind her. She fought against the insistent darkness that threatened to overwhelm her consciousness attempting again to look around. But all was dark, and soon she found herself slipping into the deep oblivion inside herself.

***

Leila awoke drowsily to hands upon her, strong hands which pulled her bodily out of the van in which she previously lay. Again she tried to focus and see her surroundings, and again was unable to see through the haze which clouded her vision. Her instincts and training screamed at her to go on the offensive, to fight free and run – anywhere but where they were taking her. But Leila was unable to do so, for whatever they had previously injected her with hadn’t yet worn off, and she shuffled sleepily through her drug-induced daze as the pair half-dragged her along.

Despite her dulled senses, she could tell that they were on a road of sorts, for the pavement and dusting of loose gravel scratched and bruised her bare feet. Somewhere inside, the realistic part of her told her that this was it, she was now so very close to her impending death – and here she’d thought that she would die out on a mission. And though she tried to resist, the bleak darkness again beckoned her, and soon the black which surrounded her was all Leila knew.

***

Finally coming to full awareness, Leila found herself laying atop a small bed, blinking against the brightness that threatened to blind her, and immediately had that familiar feeling that something was wrong. Her room had had only one lamp, the window always covered to keep out the invading sunlight. Leila liked the dark.

Rubbing her eyes and squinting, she looked about herself, slowly allowing her eyes to adjust, revealing the source of the harsh light; right above where she lay on the bed, just on the other side of the clear ceiling panels, was a row of bright neon bulbs. The confusion that had previously washed over her slowly receded, leaving in its wake a sudden pang of fear along with her most recent memories. In that instant, she remembered her last target, the argument with Jonson, and finally being tied down in a van.

Feeling panicked, an emotion that was only heightened by the heavy steel door that loomed on the opposite side of the room, barring her exit, and the dull throbbing in her neck, which was a harsh reminder that she had been passed out for an indeterminate amount of time.

Leila knew before she stood that the door would be locked, but her instinct for survival outweighed her logic, and she walked impatiently across the small room. Just as she laid her hand upon the handle, and felt the cool steel beneath her fingertips, the lock clicked noisily and the door swung open, away from her. Immediately, she jumped into a defensive stance, ready to lash out if needed.

Before her stood a rather large, strong-looking man, accompanied by a woman who carried a small steel tray in her steady hands. More than the items on that tray, it was what they wore that caught her attention immediately. Fully expecting to see the same suits that had taken her initially, Leila was surprised to see that this pair wore lab coats and clothing of sterile, crisp, white. She quickly surmised that they must be doctors, and the small bottle of tablets and tall glass of water upon the tray only served to heighten the suspicion, and she took it that those pills would be the means of her death.

This didn’t surprise her.

She knew from experience that the men up top seldom chose to get their hands dirty. That was why people like Leila existed.

The woman, who appeared to be in her early fifties and in excellent health, nodded to her burly companion. He immediately stepped forward, yet in a strangely non-threatening manner, forcing Leila to back further into the cramped room.

“We’re not here to hurt you Eva, just to see that you take your medication before your appointment,” the woman said as she and the other stepped inside, taking no noting of the confused expression on Leila’s face. The door was left momentarily open, but the man stood before it, blocking any escape.

“You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Leila Talbot.”

The tray was set atop a small steel table in the room, and the woman spoke softly as Leila watched her, a slightly impatient look upon her face, though the emotion did not register in her voice.

“No dear, it’s you who are confused. You are not this Leila person, as we’ve told you numerous times before, but Eva Carlyle. Doctor Li will be so disappointed. She thought she was making progress, and then you go and do something like this…”

The woman shook her head in dismay as she retrieved two pills from their container, and held them and the glass out to Leila.

The girl in question looked up, confused.

“Wait, what? What are you taking about? Who are you and where the hell am I?”

“Take your pills and you can go see Doctor Li. She’ll answer all your questions…”





Chapter 5
-The Truth-

Leila's mind was reeling from the few words that the woman had spoken, and hesitantly she reached out to take the outstretched medication and accompanying glass of water. Letting the former tumble about in her hand, she was intrigued by the glossy primary-red color of the capsules. And suspicious.

"What are they for?"

"After your hallucinations, or dreams - whatever you want to call them - last night, you're no doubt tense. These will relax you so that Dr. Li can speak with you properly."

'I'm not buying any of this. These people think they can wave some happy pills and convince me of a new life.'

Abra Cadabra.

Shaking her head morosely at the thoughts, she slipped the cherry flavored tablets onto her tongue and chased them down with a long gulp of water.

Leila hated cherries.

The expression of disgust must have registered on her face, for the elder woman smiled knowingly and nodded, speaking when Leila looked up at her, "To be certain that you actually swallow them. Let me see."

Rolling her eyes at such a simple yet childish gesture, Leila obliged the woman by opening her mouth for inspection as the nurse confirmed that Leila - or in her opinion, Eva - took the meds like a good little psycho.

"Right, let's get you to Dr. Li."

The nurse led the way out of the small, cell-like room, and Leila followed suit, the buff man right on her heels. As she limped along in wonder, looking at the row of steel doors that lined the bright, sterile white hallway, The Bulk - as Leila had decided to call him, as she knew the names of neither of her companions - grasped her upper left arm, leading her along securely.

Apparently, they saw her as a danger, to herself for certain, to others, or perhaps all of the above. And so they should, for even as they ventured along innocently, Leila committed her surroundings to memory. It was something she often did if she were able to play a little recon-girl before the ultimate last step. Then she would test herself on the return trip, trying to accurately guess each turn before they took it.

Soon, she would begin plotting her escape.

And after that, her revenge.

Jonson would pay dearly for what he did to her. As would anyone else who had conspired against Leila Talbot. The very man who had seen her potential and honed her skills to a deadly accuracy, was now the one to underestimate her.

Jolted from her thoughts as they paused to swipe the nurse's keycard at a bulletproof glass and steel door, Leila realized that in concentrating on her fury against her former employer, she had missed the last few turns down the hallway.

Oh well, there was always the return trip. And undoubtedly many others after that.

As they began their trek down this new hallway, Leila made careful note of the plaques on the wooden doors, each bearing a different name.

'This must be the doctors' offices.'

At the end of the hallway, they stopped, and violet eyes scanned over the plaque.

Dr. J. Li

The nurse stepped forward and knocked, the sound stark in contrast to the deathly quiet that preceded it. It was like Death shouting a curse at a corpse whose life had just been stolen. For when Leila Talbot stepped through, she would once again be spoken to as Eva Carlyle, schizophrenic, multiple-personality extraordinaire.

Indeed, she felt as if she had been robbed.

After pausing for but a moment, the nurse opened the door and stood expectantly. Leila watched her in bemusement, and The Bulk snickered to himself at the spectacle they were making. Such a childish and candid noise sounded so very out of place coming from one so big, so firm. Leila looked at him with wide eyes, smirking to herself. Finally, the nurse gestured into the room and told Leila to go on in, that Dr. Li was no doubt in the adjoining room going through the Carlyle files.

To humor them, as much to be rid of her companions, Leila stepped inside. The office room was small, yet had a cozy feeling nonetheless, despite the underlying sense of awkwardness. There was a black sofa pushed against one wall, along with a bookshelf packed with numerous medical texts, some of which bore the name of Eva's trusted doctor. Something about them struck Leila as odd, as if she had seen them before with a different name - though she was certain she'd never seen the books before that moment.

She was the one to inflict injuries and mental trauma, not heal them.

It was the rather plain pine desk across the office which dominated the small space, with one chair on each side of it. Like the rest of the institution that Leila had seen so far, the walls were painted the same drab, yet perpetually clean, shade of stark white. Behind the desk, atop which sat a ledger and notebook, a pencil holder full of various writing utensils, and more importantly, a laptop, the wall was bespeckled with diplomas and other certificates of achievement of excellence, all awarded to a "J. Li".

Leila gaped at one of these as the door was silently closed behind her.

J. Li was a psychiatrist.

Which meant that indeed, they all thought she was crazy.

At that moment, clad in a dreary gray suit and heels, J. Li stepped into the room from a small door to the left of the desk, spilling bright light into the room. There were no windows, only lamps, in the office, but there must have been some present in the other room, for the light stood out enough to be marked "natural lighting." They could be smashed and wielded as a weapon to assist an escape as much as a violent outburst.

Which is exactly what Leila would have done if the opportunity had been presented to her. Break the glass, select a long, sharp shard to use as a weapon, and flee.

However, her mind wandered only fleetingly to that subject before they were replaced as she looked at the doctor.

Immediately she was struck by a pang of familiarity, of recognition. The deep chestnut, almond-shaped eyes that gazed at her from behind simple spectacles, the prim smile of reproach as Leila ignored the offered seat, the neatly-tied black-brown hair, the air of formality and almost forced professionalism.

"My God, Jessica? The J stands for Jessica?"

Leila was incredulous. Jessica Li, her ex-partner, come to the rescue? Whoever would have thought. Or was she in on the sham to confuse Leila's mind? No, it was because of Jessica's complaints that Leila was in this steaming pile to begin with.

The sedatives were beginning to kick in, and the room danced before her eyes erotically, or else Leila would have leaped over the desk and interrogated Jessica ruthlessly, under her own rules. Or lack thereof.

To her surprise, however, Jessica simply nodded, smiling with raw pleasure and made a few notes for herself on her ledger as she took a seat and again offered the other to Leila.

"Oh good, you do remember. After your little episode last night, I was afraid you would have forgotten everything and our progress would be completely back-tracked. I'm also pleased that you're now comfortable with a first name basis, Eva. Now, if you will, please explain to me why exactly it is that you tried to escape last night? Surely you know we're here only to help you."

While it was posed as a question, Leila got the idea that she was to answer and obey this woman as if her word was that of the god Ra himself. However, she remained standing, once again ignoring the seat nearby, even as her muscles grew weak and began to ache with the effort of keeping herself upright.

"What the hell, Jessica, you too? Stop calling me Eva, my name is Leila, Leila Talbot, and you know that just as well as I do. You're the one with explaining to do. Tell me what's going on!"

A tone of threat had entered her voice, if not accompanied by a hint of desperation, her fingers clenching into frustrated fists at her sides. Whatever Jonson was trying to prove, he had gone too far.

Jessica was, however, unfazed by her unconcealed rage.

"No, Eva," and here she stressed the name, "I do not know it as well as you do. You haven't answered my question, but that is okay. Instead, please tell me what you think is happening, why you are so angry."

"God, Jessica, don't talk to me in that condescending holier-than-thou tone of voice that you'd use on a six year old caught stealing hundreds from her granny's purse. The nurses, they think I'm crazy, stark raving mad. But not you, you know I'm sane. You know why I'm really here."

"That's right, I don't think you're crazy. I think your subconscious needed a little break from reality. Enlighten me Eva. Tell me what you think happened last night."

"Well, after the argument in Jonson's office, you called in a couple of suits, really big guys. Whatever it was that they injected me with did the trick, because I only have a few scattered memories of being brought here. I remember a hard van, my wrists were tied to the flooring. Next thing I know, I'm waking up to bright lights in my eyes, locked in a tiny room. And you know how I hate bright light. Was that your idea? That and the cherry flavored sedatives just to spite me, or Jonson's?"

As she finished, Leila realized that she had been shouting, that her voice was hoarse with the force and emotion with which she had spoken. Shaken, she finally took the offered seat, sitting back and feeling the cool mock-leather chill her back and bring goosebumps to her flesh through the thin patient's uniform. All remained quiet, the sound ringing in Leila's ears until she thought that it would drive her over the edge and soon she would indeed belong in such a place. Jessica nodded to herself, writing down Leila's recount, surely accompanied by a few notes of her own. Then she looked up, and the look in her eyes made something deep inside Leila shiver and freeze solid.

"Who's this Jonson? And why do you think that I was there?"