Fail-Safe

Chapter 4

Contains Graphic Depictions of Violence - torture of minor original character. If not wanting to read, don't read past the second ♥♦♣♠. -Aster.

Chapter 4:

Two leaned against Six, arm thrown awkwardly over Six's shoulders as he limped to the medical bay. A fire raged in his calf with every step. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

"I could just carry you." Six said beside him.

"Not. A. Chance." Two rasped out.

Rounding the corner, Six's boots squeaked on the linoleum as he came to a sudden halt.

"Ouch," Two cried, "Six, what the hell-"

"Six, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you." Ace of Diamonds spluttered, tucking a long strand of golden hair behind her ear. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Two, on the other hand, needs your assistance."

Ace looked over Two, eyes coming to rest on his bandaged leg. "That looks painful," she smiled sympathetically. "Jack of Diamonds is on duty at the moment, he'll get you fixed up." She looked back at Six. "I have to run, but I'm sure I'll see you around." Six swore he saw her wink at him as she took off down the corridor.

Two groaned loudly. "Jack of Diamonds. Are you kidding me?"

Six attempted to readjust Two's grip on him. The near 20cm height difference made it feel like Two was trying to push him into the wall rather than steady himself.

"Come on," Six grunted, "we're almost there."

Narrow grey eyes stared impassively as the magnifying lamp was held over Two's leg. The stench of aftershave and cigarettes filled Six's nostrils. Jack of Diamonds had worked in the capacity of doctor since the Deck's formation. He was callous, cynical, and had a smoking habit that Six could not comprehend from a medical professional. He was 43 years old and was already going grey around the temples.

"This will have to be scrubbed." Jack of Diamonds mumbled. He looked up at Six. "This isn't a peep show so unless you want a Tetanus shot, get out."

Six wasn't fazed. Jack's particular brand of rudeness was infamous throughout the red building. Six turned to leave, ignoring Two's pleading look.

"Hey kid, you still wearing your stupid crucifix?"

Six's lip curved up.

"Not at the present moment." He replied coldly.

"Good to hear. Wouldn't want you to hang yourself on it."

Six felt anger starting to burn within him. What is it to him? He thought. Jack needs to mind his own business. Both of them.

He left before saying something he would regret.

♥♦♣♠

Jack scrubbed his hands clean and gloved up. He had one coming in hot. Broken hand, leg, multiple bullet wounds. Loosing consciousness in transit. Blood pressure dropping...He yelled for the other Diamonds to ready blood for transfusion and request patient details from the transporting Hearts. The Deck had been in operation for one year. One year. And how many agents had they lost during that time? Jack recalled Three choking to death, shredded lungs filling with his own blood. Seven may well have been dead on arrival, makeshift tourniquet nowhere near sufficient to prevent mass haemorrhage. One of the Diamonds called out to him. Six of Hearts. 14 years old. Jack huffed out a bitter laugh. It had only been a matter of time, he thought.

The Hearts burst into the medical bay, transferring the limp body to the table. 'Get out!' Jack screamed as the Hearts stood staring at their motionless colleague. He sliced open the kid's shirt and ripped it aside. The fuck... he thought as a pair of dog tags shone bright with blood against pale skin. He tossed them aside.

The monitor flatlined, Jack started compressions.

Jack peeled the once white gloves from his hands. God, he needed a cigarette. Pushing through the medical doors, Jack came face to face with King of Hearts.

'How is he?'

Jack felt rage brewing inside him. He pushed past King.

A hand gripped his arm, stopping him.

'How. Is. He?'

Jack threw the hand off.

'What the hell are you playing at? Hiring a kid?' Jack snarled.

'Six of Hearts is an exceptional agent.' King hissed. 'Now, answer my question. How. Is. He?' King's voice rang out in the empty corridor.

'He'll live to die another day.'

Jack pushed past King. He didn't stop him this time.

Reaching into his pocket he brought a cigarette and lighter to his lips. Policy be dammed, I need a smoke.

♥♦♣♠

New email.

Queen of Hearts looked up at her computer monitor. She'd had Nine of Diamonds set up an unnetworked computer for her to receive the intel package from Turret. Attached to the email was a zip file.

She double clicked it.

The first file was on Tyrro Grosstein. The leader of Turret. A photo was attached. It showed a man in his early twenties, dirty blonde hair and freckled skin. Queen scrolled down. The file contained a list of aliases and associates. She scrolled down further; the next page contained personal information. Home address, parents, wife, children, even pets. Known friends, hobbies, places frequented, and vehicles owned were on the next page. Queen felt unease brewing within her, it started in the pit of her stomach and gradually climbed up her chest.

Her finger flicked over the mouse. A photo of a man. Unconscious and gagged. Face blemished with purple bruises. It was Tyrro. At the bottom of the page was a hyperlink. She clicked it.

The media player installed on the computer opened. A man. Gagged. Sitting on a chair struggling against his bonds. Tyrro Grosstein. A figure behind Tyrro walked off camera. It picked up a thin metal pole and returned to the bound man. Gloved fingers wrapped around dirty blonde hair. A flame erupted at the end of the pole. A blowtorch Queen realised with growing horror. The figure yanked Tyrro's head back and plunged the torch into his right eye.

Queen couldn't tear her eyes away. She felt a cold sweat begin to run over her skin. The figure released Tyrro's head. He slumped forwards against his bonds, gasping. Queen tried to regain her composure. Breathe, she told herself. Who is this person? The figure was wearing a dark hoodie, pulled up masking his face. Strong build, male. He started undoing the restraint on Tyrro's right arm.

Tyrro weakly reached up to push the figure away. The figure clasped Tyrro's hand in his own. Queen saw the figure's shoulder rip back. Tyrro's arm was pulled off at the elbow. Arterial blood spilled down the chair. Tyrro's face contorted in agony, mouth gaping open. Queen suddenly realised the audio had been disabled. She sat frozen, heart thumping in her ears.

Tyrro looked barely conscious now. Queen prayed he wasn't feeling anything. The figure walked to the edge of the screen and picked up another object. A gloved hand held the object up to the camera. A pack of playing cards. The figure walked back and dropped the cards in Tyrro's lap. A jerrycan came into view. Fuel poured over Tyrro's check, drenching his right side. Queen saw the flick of a lighter. She tore her gaze away.

The video ended.

Taking deep, controlled breaths, Queen picked up her headset and dialled King.