Thanks for waiting! This one took so long, I can't stress it enough. I couldn't get some of the sentences right! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :) Notes for language translation or information specification are at the bottom. Reviews are always appreciated!
June 13th ; 14:03
Alex wasn't claustrophobic, but eventual discomfort and unease made his cell synonymous to a straight jacket.
The walls were dark and concrete, and wet in some places. The door didn't budge. The room was void of furniture- completely bare. Prison cells had beds, at the very least, Alex thought bitterly. His back was pressed against the driest part of the back wall. His paranoia had pushed him back, per usual. The slight feeling of closure was enough to keep the panic at bay.
Wolf, whose cell sat opposite of Alex's, had taken to pacing. He'd been at it for a while, and showed no signs of stopping. He didn't look afraid or jittery. Only paranoid and nervous, with a hint of skepticism. He'd been through this before, however; the unit had gone through RTI a few times before. While Alex was at the training camp with them, they'd done it twice. Alex, however, hadn't participated; Ms. Jones and Blunt had figured his experience covered RTI training quite well. Alex lolled his head against the wall. He probably should have been angrier about that than he was.
Snake had occupied himself with talking to Panther. Not about anything relevant, as far as Alex could tell. They couldn't afford to talk about things that mattered and may have mentally stimulated him more, but hey. You work with what you have. Because, in this business, when you speak about things that matter, they become things that mattered.
Currently, Snake was having Panther recite all of the existing languages he could think of. He'd flown through Europe, North America, and South America. He was tackling Africa.
"Arabic, Somali, Berber… Amharic… Oromo, Swahili, Hausa, Igbo…" A groan rumbled from across he prison, followed by an amused grunt, courtesy of Eagle. "Fuck, what was that last one… Yoru-something?"
"Yoruba," Snake supplied helpfully.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"So that's- what, nine down?" Eagle chirped, sounding amused. "It's a good thing Africa only has a couple hundred."
Panther cursed.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway outside, and Wolf froze in his tracks. He angled his body towards the door. Alex stood, pressed against the back wall. He edged towards the corner a few inches.
The shuffling outside the cell lasted for about five excruciating minutes before the door swung open. A grinning Jerome Argent sauntered in, two lackeys flanking him. The one on the right was the man that Alex had seen before, and on the left was a woman, tall and intimidating. Her jaw was strong and her head was shaved. She had a tribal tattoo on the right side of her skull. Alex wasn't sure what it meant. She was built like an Olympian, all muscles and strength. Her dark eyes met Alex's, and he got the odd sensation that he was being peered into.
Alex tore his gaze away from her.
"You know…" Jerome beckoned the room's attention. His voice was deep and confident. He stood proudly, completely comfortable in the thick tension. His French accent gave his words a threatening lull. "If you'd have informed me ahead of time, I could have provided you with decent quarters. I like my guests to be treated to luxury." The mocking glint in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.
When he was greeted with silence, Jerome sighed. His eyes glanced over every member of the unit before landing on Alex.
"Oh," He looked genuinely surprised. His expression melted into delighted satisfaction. "Oh. Alex Rider, isn't it? It's a pleasure, really, I've heard so much about you." He strode over to Alex's cell, reaching his hands out to touch the bars. "Why don't you come a bit closer? I only want to greet you. It's not every day you meet an enigma."
"I'm fine where I am, thank you," snapped Alex.
"Oh, Alex- may I call you Alex? It's a bit familiar, but-"
"What are you getting at, Argent?" Wolf growled. He was clenching the bars, his eyes alight with fury. "The kid's not important, here. I don't know what you mean by enigma, but I'm the leader of this unit. You'll speak to me."
For a moment, a look of thunderous anger adorned Jerome's face. His eyes went stormy, and his mouth set into a thin line. Alex resisted the urge to shudder. He was surprised he'd had the urge at all.
And as quickly as it came, it was gone, with Jerome spinning on Wolf, nodding. "Of course, of course. Where are my manners? And you are…?"
"Wolf. What do you want with my unit, Argent?"
Alex sighed. He was going about this all wrong. This wouldn't get them anywhere.
The woman cast a glance at Alex. "You work for MI6, yes?" She inquired, interrupting the conversation. Her Russian accent was steely.
Alex stared at her for a moment in surprise. He shook his head.
"You are a liar." She mused. Thankfully, she didn't look irritated. Alex had the distinct feeling that crossing her was something he should avoid.
There was a moment of brief silence. Jerome glanced between the woman and Alex, and Alex kept his gaze solidly on the ground. Jerome clapped his hands together, suddenly, breaking the tension. "In any case, you lot have wedged yourself into a tight spot. You're in a bit of trouble; which shouldn't be a surprise. You broke into my home and place of business, and injured my employees without even giving me a call, after all." Jerome smiled. "In short, we'll be enjoying each other's company from now on. I'd like to get acquainted, one by one. Starting…" His eyes slid over to Alex, and he thought of a serpent, "with this dear boy." The woman and man moved forward and unlocked the cage, grabbing Alex by the arms before he could move and pulling him out. Once outside of his cell, rough rope was tied around his arms, as high as possible without dislocating them. She held his wrists as she pushed him out of the room. The man followed next to them, fiddling with a gun idly while his eyes stayed firmly locked on Alex.
"I'm looking forward to this," Jerome admitted. He sounded sheepish. "You lot will stay until we're finished. Don't worry; you're all next. Be patient with us."
Jerome turned and left, and Alex was shoved close behind. Wolf shouted after them.
"If you hurt that boy, Argent, I'll-" His enraged road was muffled by the metal door slamming shut. After a moment of quiet shouts, everything was still. Everything was quiet.
June 13th ; 14:13
"So, Alex," Jerome began, "how are you?"
The entire situation was becoming unbearably frustrating, honestly. Being treated like a house guest in binds. Being carted along at the will of the exact criminal he'd been sent to retrieve. His frustration boiled. "I'm not sure what you expect me to say, Argent. I'm not planning on becoming buddy-buddy with a murderer." Alex replied curtly. The grip on his wrists tightened.
Jerome laughed, waving it off. "Spitfire! Wonderful; it gets awfully dull around here, I'm glad someone has a sense of sarcasm and wit. You, my boy, are a godsend to this drab business." They walked a bit more before Jerome spoke again. "In a moment, here, you're going to meet the good doctor. She's quite lovely."
They approached a doorway and entered into a blindingly white room. The fluorescent lights were painfully bright and the light floors and walls didn't help. His eyes adjusted after a good, long moment.
"Jerome," A low voice acknowledged. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Angela," Jerome crooned, leaning forward to kiss a woman on both cheeks. "I've brought you a treat."
Angela's eyes brightened, and she looked at Alex as if seeing him for the first time. She took him in greedily. Alex felt dissected.
She had dark hair and dark eyes, but her skin was incredibly pale. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head, and her lips were colored red. "Who might this be?" She asked, her voice thick with interest.
"This is Alex Rider," Jerome gestured, and the grip on his wrists disappeared. "He visited us today. I thought you'd enjoy to meet him, as he'll be staying with us from now on."
"Very much so," She replied, moving forward. Her hand reached up and her manicured nails dragged along his face, pushing at his cheeks and turning his head from side to side. "This is him, then. Incredible." She had a thick French accent, like Jerome. "I want him for two hours." She nodded to herself. Jerome smiled.
"I'll leave him with you, then, yes?"
Angela hummed in approval, grabbing Alex by his shoulders and pushing him into a chair to the side of the room. She looked eager. Alex didn't struggle; he wouldn't have made it anywhere. Not with the two lackeys at the door, and all of the medical equipment that could easily be used against him. Not with the K-Unit still back in the cells. He needed a better plan.
Angela leaned down and strapped him into the chair. It happened so quickly that Alex couldn't move, and he jerked, surprised. "I want Mathias here with me." Angela announced after a moment of pondering. "This boy is dangerous. To take a chance is to die."
Alex tugged on his restraints. There wasn't any leeway.
"Of course, of course," Jerome nodded. "We'll be off, then. I'll see you in a bit, Alex." Jerome waved once and strode out the door. The woman followed him out.
Mathias shut the door behind them, locking it. He glanced at Alex, and his lips curled. He showed teeth.
Angela's hands were moving instantly, dragging through Alex's hair and pushing his head forward. There was a quiet drag of metal on the counter before pain pinched his neck. He winced, jerking his head to the side.
"Stay still," She ordered sharply, and pushed his head back down. He felt the pain again, and after a moment, his body grew heavy. They'd drugged him, no doubt. "I've met a few spies in my lifetime. Every one of them has been somewhat callous, somewhat rough around the edges. But you…" She knelt in front of him, her hands flitting down his sides and pressing into his stomach. "You're entirely different. So… psychologically clean. So fresh." Her voice held excitement and Alex felt his fingers tingling until he couldn't feel them anymore. Angela reached around him and pulled another strap across his chest, tightening it until Alex cried out. She hadn't thought anything of it, thank god, but Alex could feel his bullet wound burning. "Jerome has brought me something wonderful." Her voice was sing-song as she straightened up, her hands stroking his hair and cupping his face. "Don't worry, you won't feel anything. Not until the serum wears off. But by then, I'll have mostly finished. It shouldn't be an issue."
Alex's neck grew heavy as lead, and without his permission, his head slumped forward. Panic choked him. This was bad. He was in trouble. Physically immobile and in the grasp of the enemy. The undoubtedly mentally unstable enemy.
Alex saw Angela's fingers pressing against his arm out of the corner of his eye, over and over until finger-shaped bruises appeared. He hadn't felt it. If his eyes had been closed, he wouldn't have noticed. She hummed happily and leaned over him to grab something on the counter.
"Alright, Alex, we're going to start with something simple," Angela said conversationally. "You see, I'm endlessly curious about you." Her fingers found his hair, again. She ruffled and smoothed it over. "Your physique…" Her fingers flitted down his face, stroking his jaw. "Your mind…" Her fingers pressed into his neck. Angela smiled, looking satisfied, and Alex suspected a bruise had formed. "You. You're so… curious. A teenage boy… thrown into situations that should've left you mentally incapacitated and physically deficient. They shoulder broken your fragile, school-boy heart." Her eyes searched his face intently. "But they didn't."
She turned and flicked her hand at Mathias, who seemed to understand and left the room. "In any case, I'm dying to get my hands on you and test your limits a bit. So, we begin."
Mathias returned with a case, and laid it out on the counter for Angela. "We're going to start with sensory deprivation. Isolation, if you will."
She played with her new toys for a moment before turning back to Alex. "Have you ever heard of Jose Padilla, Alex?"
Alex didn't reply. He wondered if he should try, to see if he even could.
"Jose Padilla was a threat to the United States' security. He was believed to be an informant, a traitor. The entire case is long and complex, but the point is that Jose was considered a national menace. Because of this, in more case than one, he was subjected to a few types of isolation. Sensory deprivation and sleep deprivation being the most popular." Angela's fingers found Alex's temples, and she rubbed, trying to soothe. If he'd have been able to feel, it might have worked. "He was made to wear headgear that robbed him of sight, at one point, when he was transferred from the prison to the dentist." Angela released him to grab something on the counter, and when she dangled it in front of him, his stomach went icy. "That is what I'm planning on doing… with you."
Angela moved behind him and strapped the headgear to his head, fastening something over his eyes. He couldn't see; he was blind. For the second time that day, Alex was blind.
"Now, Alex," Angela spoke softly in his ear. "I'm going to start with depriving you of your ability to feel, see, and hear." She plugged one ear, moving to the next one. "I'll leave you in here for exactly an hour and a half. When I return, I'll see how you've managed." With that, his remaining ear was plugged.
In a horrifying moment, Alex felt the sensation of no sensation at all.
He couldn't feel, he couldn't hear, he couldn't see. If Mathias happened to deliver a punch or two to Alex's stomach, he didn't think he'd notice. The thought shook him and Alex wanted to puke.
He needed to get a grip. It was only an hour and a half. If he stopped thinking, he'd stop panicking. He could do that. Shut down. He'd done it plenty of times before. Usually before he did something his conscious would disapprove of. He was too awake to sleep. He couldn't even close his eyes. Or were they already closed?
Alex closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.
This wasn't so bad. It would be fine.
June 13th ; 14:47
Alex couldn't ever prepare for the sudden flood of sight and sound.
For the past hour and a half, he'd successfully ceased thought. He wasn't sure how he'd done it; it was like he'd blacked out. Maybe he had blacked out. But the minute the headgear and earplugs were removed, he'd been torn back into the world.
"There, there," A voice soothed, "how do you feel?"
Alex tried to spit an answer, only to fumble stupidly over his words. His mind was muddled. He nearly puked.
"Take your time," Angela crooned. She fiddled with the restraints until he was completely free. Alex tried to move out of the chair, and toppled onto the ground, barely able to hold himself up on his elbows. He retched.
Alex felt as if he was drowning. He disposed of the contents of his stomach on the floor and wrenched himself upwards, gasping for breath. His hand reached out for purchase, for something sturdy, and a hand slipped into his.
"Alex! You're looking a little green," Jerome Argent noted, sounding bright. Anger bubbled in Alex's stomach. Though, that might've been the vomit.
Two arms gripped his forearms and hauled him onto his feet. Shakily, he stood. Mathias let go and stepped back, but the woman stayed standing directly behind him.
"How are you doing?" Angela asked again. Alex could see now that she had a notebook, and had been scribbling things down. Observations.
Alex tried to breathe, and glared at her. It didn't have much behind it. Angela, looking thoroughly unimpressed with him, brought back a hand and struck him across the cheek. Alex tottered, and nearly crumpled. The woman kept him upright, however. He glanced up at her, and saw surprise in her expression.
"How," Angela said slowly, her stare sharp, her tone dangerous, "are you doing? Be specific."
"I can't see." Alex managed. His words were still a little slurred. "Everything is too loud."
Looking pleased, Angela nodded. "I've gotten everything I need." She turned to Jerome, who pushed off the counter he had been leaning on. Jerome smiled and gestured to Alex. The two behemoths dragged him from the room –he was still having trouble walking- and the last thing he heard from Jerome was, "It's a nice gift, isn't it?"
They made it to the cells in record time, and Alex was thrown into his cell. His brain was too sluggish to properly react, and he collided with the ground, using his shoulder as a break. He couldn't risk getting concussed.
The main door slammed shut. Alex struggled onto his elbows and glanced at the door. The woman stood, watching him. "Malen'kogo shpiona," She sounded reprimanding. Alex couldn't make out her face, everything was too blurry. He could barely see her clearly. Without knowledge of emotions or fluency in Russian, he was blind and deaf. For the third time. The irony. "Son. Ne borites." She watched him for a moment before turning and leaving. Alex let his head fall onto the concrete.
He was so tired. His mind sluggishly tried to keep him awake.
"… b. Cub! Dammit, fuck- Cub!"
Alex lifted his head. It felt like it weighed ten times more than it should've. Wolf was pressed against his door, eyes intent on Alex. Alex could make out concern and panic. Good, his vision was clearing.
"Wolf," Alex replied. It came out more like 'worllmph'.
"Shit, fuck," Wolf had been cursing up a storm. Alex could vaguely hear Snake's voice, soothing and calming. ("You panicking will make him panic, Wolf!") "What'd those bastards do?" He was roaring now. Alex winced, his hands flying to his ears. He curled in on himself reflexively, and when he deemed it quiet enough, he glanced back up at Wolf.
Wolf was staring at him, stricken. "I- shit, Cub. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… scare you. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
"M'fine," Alex mumbled. He had shifted to lie against the wall. Propping himself up would probably induce another vomit fit. He didn't dare. "M'okay."
Wolf's eyes narrowed. "Like hell you're okay, Cub!" Wolf made a panicked noise in the back of his throat when Alex didn't respond. "Snake, he looks exhausted and pale. He can't handle loud noises-"
"Loud noises?" Snake repeated.
"He covered his ears when I yelled."
"Wolf."
"I know! I know, fuck, sorry. Just- he's pale and he's not opening his eyes much… he looks asleep."
Alex didn't bother to inform him that he was in fact losing consciousness. He couldn't muster up enough strength to, really.
"Don't let him sleep! Wolf, you have to- shit, Wolf he might fall into a coma!" Snake was beginning to panic. Urgency was clear in his tone. "We have no idea what they did to him, he has to stay awake!"
His unit called his name, begged with him to wake up, open his eyes, sit up, please. Alex couldn't move. His eyes slipped closed, and he hoped he'd wake up.
Language:
Malen'kogo shpiona - Little spy, in Russian
Son. Ne borites. - Sleep. Do not fight. Also in Russian.
The Jose Padilla thing is about an American criminal, you can easily find his wiki page.
RTI is Resistance To Interrogation. I figured they did it a lot, so I added it in. :) Thanks for reading!