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Infiltration 0036 - New Blood and Skinner Box

Infiltration 0036 - New Blood and Skinner Box

෴Turnabout෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

  A typical slightly rundown warehouse in a slightly rundown light industrial complex roughly forty miles outside Washington D.C.

  The rear of the box truck backed into a loading dock full of men dressed in gear that said soldiers, minus any identifying markings on the uniforms. The high concentration of weapons, both personal and crew-served, made the distinction a minor one.

  “All right, this should be the last of them for today!” One of the uniformed men called out to a woman wearing a similar outfit up on the loading dock.

  She noted it down and crossed a name off the list.

  She looked at the man who had joined her on the dock. “Intel on the seller?”

  He handed her a photo of Wilson. “That’s the only one we got an image of. RF and IR made it pretty obvious that he wasn’t alone.”

  She nodded and added some notes. “This one in the box looks dangerous. Full safety protocols on the transfer, you got it?”

  He nodded and walked back down toward the truck where the rear door was opening. “Alright people, let’s get this done by the numbers, slow and careful. Just like always, we move this cargo like it’s a bomb, you know the drill!”

  The woman on the dock tapped her earpiece. “Director, we’re loading up the last of them for today. I’ll signal the surgical team to stand by for your orders.”

  She nodded to some unheard message and turned to head into the building.

  Inside the warehouse had been converted into a sort of detention center. She walked past a series of cells that consisted of nothing more than painted lines on the floor around a bed and desk. On the other end of the building, she met with a man wearing a surgical gown and mask. “One more for today sir, speed type, some durability, possibly other abilities.”

  The man swore colorfully. “Speed and the durability all the successful speed types have, or extra durability? Oh wait, it says extra, well isn’t that just fabulous. Let's hope we can avoid killing this one.”

  He turned away from the woman as though she no longer registered to him once she’d said her piece.

  He walked into the tent composed of plastic sheeting. “One more implant today. Prep the laser and the gas.” he said to one of the nurses.

෴Turnabout Black Site DC-3෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Skinner Box

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Lisa woke up laying on a cool concrete floor. Memories of being captured then transferred to another group flooded into her. She activated her speed and surged to her feet.

  Or at least that was the plan. The moment she tried to engage her speed, she felt a red hot icepick stab into her brain. If she’d been in any shape to notice it, she’d have noticed her eyes involuntarily closing and going cross-eyed at the height of the shocking burst of agony strobing across her body.

  “Don’t try to use your power again. It only gets worse from there.” a quiet masculine voice said.

  She fought down the waves of nausea and pain until she could stand to open her eyes again. A man that looked to be in his mid thirties was sitting on the floor a little under 10 feet away from her. He wore a pale one piece yellow jumpsuit.

  She glanced at herself and realized she too wore a yellow jumpsuit. She ran her hand along her hip and discovered that the thin jumpsuit was all she had on.

  She carefully rolled into a seated position. He scooted backwards when her movement took her in his direction.

  “Don’t come any closer. If we get too close to each other, it punishes the one in motion first, then both of us.”

  “What the fuck is this place?” she replied, looking around the room sparsely filled with other men and women. She noticed they all wore the same yellow one piece.

  “Officially? No idea. It’s some kind of training camp.”

  Lisa stood up and took in the long rectangular room. It looked superficially like some sort of unisex dormitory, with beds along the walls, spaced just about as far apart as she was from the man.

  “So who are you, and what can you tell me?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t say your name! You tried to use an ability when you first went to get up, right?”

  She nodded, suddenly wary of speaking.

  “That feeling you got when you tried to use an ability, that’s the lowest level, the warning punishment. It hits you medium-hard, for about half a second.”

  Her jaw dropped. “That’s the warning?” she sounded like she couldn’t believe it.

  He nodded solemnly. “It gets so much worse than that. You’re in here, so I take it you have physical abilities with combat applications.”

  “I–Yeah, I do,” she admitted in a halting tone.

  “Well, I can’t say I’d blame you for trying to escape, but I recommend you read the rules on the wall over there, and don’t get too close to anyone else.” He pointed at a white sign on the far wall. ”Feel free to come find me if you need to talk, or if you have any questions.”

  She looked where he’d indicated, “You said this is a training camp. What are they training us in?”

  He pursed his lips. “Well, based on the other ‘graduates’ I’ve seen, and the rules so far. I’d say they’re training us to be obedient super soldiers.”

  “I’ll never do that!” she retorted instantly.

  He shrugged. “I’m with you there. But they’re trying to strip away our names, and the only ‘training’ sessions I’ve been part of, are flat out operant conditioning sessions. They control every facet of our lives. Food, water, sleep, warmth, pain, pleasure, and that’s just the basic mix for brainwashing.”

  “Basic? Brainwashing?” she closed her eyes against this idea.

  The man pointed at the back of his head. “This thing in our brains, it can punish, and reward, and so much more.”

  She shook her head, looking around the room for some kind of way out as the spacious room suddenly seemed small and suffocating. “I have to get out of here!”

  She abruptly crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain as she screamed.

  He shook his head sadly. “Yeah. If you’re going to think about that, you need to be smarter about it than that.”

  He watched her reactions. “Truth be told, giving newcomers an introduction to what’s coming is about all the resistance I’ve got left. Better luck to you.” He got up and ambled off to a cot.

  Lisa eventually recovered from the punishment and sat up. This time, she looked around the room with a growing sense of horror.