Categories > TV > Dark Angel > Early Days
Early Days - Escape
0 reviewsPreparing himself to follow Max to Seattle, X5-494 discovers how Manticore has messed with his mind.
1Insightful
Early Days - Escape
September 2020
"She's gone." He failed to stop a smug grin from curling up the corners of his mouth. "She bought it hook, line, and sinker, ma'am."
"Well done, 494." Renfro didn't smile. To the contrary; her mouth tightened at the look on his face, and he quickly wiped the smirk off, replacing it with the customary emotionless mask that Manticore found so desirable in its soldiers.
"Go get changed. You cannot afford to let 452 get too far ahead." She gave a nod and the X7s who had escorted him back to the barracks melted away into the forest without a word. "Remember, I want Eyes Only alive, and that can only be achieved if you bring him here in time to give him the antigen," she continued. "There will be transportation waiting for you in the motor pool."
"Yes, ma'am." He offered her a crisp salute, hand to head, before he trotted off to his quarters. Someone had anticipated 452 would escape tonight and civilian clothes had been laid out on his bunk during his absence. Black leather jacket, black shirt, dark-gray, nondescript cargo pants. His eyes lit up; it seemed ages since he had worn something that wasn't designed to homogenize, since he had been sent on a mission that took him out of Manticore.
He checked the label in the jacket and was not surprised to find it marked as his-- well, issued to him, at the least. Manticore was nothing if not thorough and the Quartermaster always made sure undercover agents would blend in.
He dropped the jacket back on the bunk, scooted out of the mottled camouflage pants and grabbed the cargoes. Something small and hard was lodged in one of its side pockets; curious, he dug it out and a silver, heart-shaped locket rested in his palm.
What the--
Without warning, a series of images and sounds flashed across his brain: dark eyes glittering with amusement, a loud, fiery explosion, and, strangest of all, the Peanuts theme song... The memories were gone before he could grasp them and he searched his mind, trying to find them again. Instantly, sharp agony pierced his skull, reminiscent of his days in reindoctrination. 494 whimpered, knees giving way while he struggled to empty his mind of all thought.
Once the pain faded to a dull throb in the back of his head, he found he had collapsed on his bunk. His face pressed against the leather jacket and he sucked in air in large gasps. Trembling, he pushed himself to his feet and shakily finished dressing. He carefully avoided thought of the memories.
Manticore had messed with his mind. Tried to make him forget something they did not want him to remember. They must have failed, because the recollection was still in his head somewhere. It was something that had to do with the small object he stuffed back into the pocket where he had found it. The mere idea of the locket caused his facial muscles to twitch in fearful anticipation and he quickly forced away the image. Still, if they wanted him to forget, why leave such a solid reminder in his trousers? What cruel kind of mind games were they playing with him this time?
"494? What's taking you so long?"
"Coming," he called over his shoulder. He shook the concerns away; he had no time to worry about Manticore's schemes right now-- he had a mission to fulfill. 452, I'm on your tail. He grabbed the jacket and shrugged into it, walking out of the door without looking back.
Little did he know he would never return.
September 2020
"She's gone." He failed to stop a smug grin from curling up the corners of his mouth. "She bought it hook, line, and sinker, ma'am."
"Well done, 494." Renfro didn't smile. To the contrary; her mouth tightened at the look on his face, and he quickly wiped the smirk off, replacing it with the customary emotionless mask that Manticore found so desirable in its soldiers.
"Go get changed. You cannot afford to let 452 get too far ahead." She gave a nod and the X7s who had escorted him back to the barracks melted away into the forest without a word. "Remember, I want Eyes Only alive, and that can only be achieved if you bring him here in time to give him the antigen," she continued. "There will be transportation waiting for you in the motor pool."
"Yes, ma'am." He offered her a crisp salute, hand to head, before he trotted off to his quarters. Someone had anticipated 452 would escape tonight and civilian clothes had been laid out on his bunk during his absence. Black leather jacket, black shirt, dark-gray, nondescript cargo pants. His eyes lit up; it seemed ages since he had worn something that wasn't designed to homogenize, since he had been sent on a mission that took him out of Manticore.
He checked the label in the jacket and was not surprised to find it marked as his-- well, issued to him, at the least. Manticore was nothing if not thorough and the Quartermaster always made sure undercover agents would blend in.
He dropped the jacket back on the bunk, scooted out of the mottled camouflage pants and grabbed the cargoes. Something small and hard was lodged in one of its side pockets; curious, he dug it out and a silver, heart-shaped locket rested in his palm.
What the--
Without warning, a series of images and sounds flashed across his brain: dark eyes glittering with amusement, a loud, fiery explosion, and, strangest of all, the Peanuts theme song... The memories were gone before he could grasp them and he searched his mind, trying to find them again. Instantly, sharp agony pierced his skull, reminiscent of his days in reindoctrination. 494 whimpered, knees giving way while he struggled to empty his mind of all thought.
Once the pain faded to a dull throb in the back of his head, he found he had collapsed on his bunk. His face pressed against the leather jacket and he sucked in air in large gasps. Trembling, he pushed himself to his feet and shakily finished dressing. He carefully avoided thought of the memories.
Manticore had messed with his mind. Tried to make him forget something they did not want him to remember. They must have failed, because the recollection was still in his head somewhere. It was something that had to do with the small object he stuffed back into the pocket where he had found it. The mere idea of the locket caused his facial muscles to twitch in fearful anticipation and he quickly forced away the image. Still, if they wanted him to forget, why leave such a solid reminder in his trousers? What cruel kind of mind games were they playing with him this time?
"494? What's taking you so long?"
"Coming," he called over his shoulder. He shook the concerns away; he had no time to worry about Manticore's schemes right now-- he had a mission to fulfill. 452, I'm on your tail. He grabbed the jacket and shrugged into it, walking out of the door without looking back.
Little did he know he would never return.
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