The Diamond Spy

Ch.22 Terms and Conditions

Terms and Conditions

The lift doors open to Dale's lab. I witness a humongous, never ending grey themed laboratory with highly advanced technology spacing out over hundreds of square feet; literally. This place looked like at least fifty scientists could fit in here to work at independent lab stations.

Serge and Dale exit the lift first while I trail behind them. They head straight over to a high standing metallic table and a single high stool seat. They both stand back and nod at me while their hands point towards the seat... which I assume is for me.

I head straight through them and sit reluctantly, my eyes skittish as I take in all the laboratory equipment apprehensively.

"I don't s-suppose you're about to open me up for experimental purposes," I speak, my voice trembling as I wonder what Dale and Serge had planned for me.

"No, kitten," Dale shakes his head, growling as he explains, "I'm going to make you some clothes resistant to your nails and hair... I just need a blood sample. Serge, go check on the others, if they're awake, incinerate the bodies of Karla and Mishka before STRIKE starts to stink and alert their families of their fate," Dale speaks without emotion while Serge shrugs but hesitates as he narrows his eyes at me.

"Don't get too comfortable, doll," Serge warns.

"I thought I was welcome –"

"You are, doll, but I wasn't talking about being welcomed. I was talking about relaxing while around us. You're going to see some nasty stuff working by our side," Serge adds in for extra warning, his tone dropping as he considers then decides to add, "...death is the least gruesome thing you may witness."

"I watched James gurgle his last breath and heard Kyle's every whimper before he also succumbed to his gunshot wound –" I try to stick up for myself but Serge abruptly cuts me off by slicing his hand through the air.

"Not just deaths, doll. Murder. You're also a runaway patient from the Preventative Care unit; and no one escapes that place. Dale and I have only ever taken one other patient from their extremely fortified building."

"Not now, lightening," Dale interrupts, "Go wake the others, get those bodies sorted."

"You're all weapons," I mutter, as I watch Serge turn and head off without a goodbye, "Weapons with sass and quite a bit to say in terms of funny banter."

"They'll never recreate anyone like us again," Dale stands next to me while he prepares a needle to take a sample of blood. I just watch on nervously as he calmly does so.

"You'd think they'd keep trying, considering that I was apparently the last lot of experimental subjects... after you four were made... STRIKE? Why are you called STRIKE anyway?" I ask, curious.

"That was the name of our government assigned cover, when we would be deployed to work for them. Let's just say – what they wanted – didn't happen. Also, the government is trying to develop even more advanced humans but nothing will succeed us, as the next lot of human weapons are having emotions phased out of their genetics. The scientists believe that will help them act like obedient robots, but it also means they'll have an extreme lack of empathy; if none at all. That equals an extreme underestimation of human ability... if anything, the next lot of experiments will all fail and be completely useless," Dale grabs my wrist and pulls my arm out onto the table, positioning the needle above my skin without penetrating, "Kitten. Look. You may as well. What is the point of averting your eyes? It's going in... either way."

"That's one messed up thought but... regrettably true," I admit, sighing. I then turn, slowly after considering his words. I suck up my small amount of fear and decide to indeed watch as he plunges in the needle. I find it hard to watch, but also extremely intriguing. The pain is no worse than it usually is.