SERAPH-11: Hospital Date

  Two stories dominated the news headlines the next morning.
  A short stretch of a Kensington street was torn up overnight; as the fires in that area had spread quite extensively by the time emergency services showed up, there was little forensic evidence that could determine the identity of the culprits.  Property damage estimates were astronomical due to the district's historic nature.
  Two people, a father and daughter, were rushed to hospital.  The father had a seriously-broken spine, and doctors were unable to restore to him the use of his legs; he would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.  The injuries inflicted on the daughter, however, captured the nation's heart.  Her face had been seriously burned, and she had been put into an induced coma after suffering some kind of stroke or brain haemorrhage that night, probably brought on by deep-tissue damage; doctors were confident, however, that she would recover within a few days, a week maximum.
  The mother, Daisy, fronted the cameras first thing that morning, reading a statement expressing her gratitude for the concern of the English public, while conversely wishing the culprit a slow, painful death.  Elsa's new stalker, Chantelle, watched the interview live while she ate breakfast half an hour ago...

  I had to weave my way past about five camera crews and their dolled-up news reporters on my way into the hospital.  Posing as Elsa Williams' room-mate, I got the receptionist to direct me to the room that her brother-in-law was in.
  On my way there, I made a quick stop in the bathroom on the first floor.  I made my way to the cubicle at the end; the one directly below the tiny window and with the cardboard sign with "out of order" scribbled on it hanging from the door.  I opened the door and closed it behind me, gingerly crouching as I reached around behind the cistern...
  My curled around a handle, and I pulled a small suitcase out from behind the toilet.  I placed it on the lid and opened it, finding an assortment of metal parts snugly packed with foam.
  About five seconds later, I had a working submachine gun in my hands.  I did a swift check of the weapon, feeling pride at how easy the assembly was to me now, before loading it with a forty-round magazine and flicking the safety off.  Metal detectors at the hospital entrance weren't going to stop me carrying this; thermal satellite imagery showed that, despite the severe beating he'd taken, Hellfire hadn't left the country.  I hadn't tangled with him before, but I'd seen after-action reports of a dozen missions that Hellfire's involvement had been confirmed in; I wasn't taking any chances.
  I slung the submachine gun over my shoulders, before putting my thick hooded jacket back on; between that and my long hair, nobody would know I was packing.  I then grabbed a small rod of metal shaped like a handle from the case, slipping it in my pocket; I then replaced the suitcase behind the cistern, walking quickly out of the bathroom.
  Rather than use the elevator, I decided to take the stairs; the strict training regime at SERAPH made me realise how out of shape I was.  Not that I was overweight, no; just not particularly athletic.  I had a petite and slender build, a bit shorter than most girls my age, with multiple piercings in each ear, lime-green eyes and long bushy hair that was reminiscent of that Hermione girl in the first two of those old Harry Potter films.
  After going up a couple of flights of stairs at a brisk jog, I stepped out into the hallway of the hospital's third floor.  I got directions from a portly black lady behind a desk, who made sure to double-check that I wasn't some ninja reporter who'd somehow snuck past all their security.
  After repeatedly assuring her, she finally gave me the room number; it was a short walk, and I found myself at the doorway pretty quickly.  I looked inside; two of the room's four beds were occupied, and the only other occupant was a tough-looking blonde woman who'd fallen asleep by the window.  I recognised her face from the morning news; that was Daisy.  There was a man lying in the bed beside her; he looked pretty doped up, probably on painkillers, but he was still alert enough to be looking at Daisy with a fond, loving smile on his face.
  The smile captivated my attention, and the whole scene was given a romantic touch by the rays of sunshine coming through the window.  It was so different to...
  A dirty apartment filled with the stench of misery and neglect; smoke hung heavy in the air and a moth-eaten couch strained under five boisterous drunkards...
  I tried to stop the images, but they kept coming like a pack of rabid dogs.
  ...a haggard-looking brute who has my angular, green eyes and pointed nose.  The other men laugh and jeer at me as he grabs me by the hair and smacks my head into the wall; he laughs at the tears that stain my cheeks...
  Now tears came to my eyes; all my work suppressing these memories, and it was all undone so easily...
  ...The same man, but a different room; two of his friends hold my arms apart, and I'm pinned against a wall.  There's a man in a chair in front of me, staring up at me with dull, lifeless eyes; he disappears behind my father, who holds a butterfly knife in his hand.
  I cry, I plead; I would beg on my hands and knees if I could.
  But I can only struggle in vain, and scream in agony as my father slashes my throat three times with the knife...
  "Excuse me!" says a voice that scatters the memories like a hurricane wind.  I quickly gather all the scraps and push them down, back into whatever box they were stored in.
  I only now realised that my hand had wandered to my neck, touching the three parallel lines on the left side of my throat; they were ugly scars, ragged and the longest one cut from just below my earlobe right down to my collarbone.
  "Um, can I get past please?"
  I turned to the speaker...
  ...and was immediately confronted by the sight of a teenage girl, about my age but a couple of inches taller, with her hair tied back in a ponytail.
  Hair that was emerald-green.
  "Y-you're Tropic!" I blurted out.
  Fuck!  Did I seriously just say that out loud??
  She seemed just as stunned as I was; she motioned for me to wait, quickly ducking into the room.  I watched as she put a take-away coffee on the windowsill next to Daisy, before passing her bed-ridden brother-in-law a heavy-looking MacDonald's bag.
  Then she stormed straight out to me.
  "You've got some nerve; I go to all this effort to keep that identity a secret, and you just come in here and blurt it out?" she hissed.
  "I'm sorry; I was just a bit surprised to find you so easily," I replied.  Her eyes narrowed after I said "find."
  "'Find' me?  Who's looking for me, who do you work for?" Elsa asked.
  "I represent the SERAPH-project; I've been sent to ask you to join us," I said, neglecting to introduce myself.
  "SERAPH?  That sounds like some kind of agency, or a secret organisation; after my dealings with GaiaTech, I don't have much time for such things," Elsa said pointedly.
  "It is; the SERAPH-project is a special government agency, which focuses on recruiting people like us for--"
  Elsa cut me off.
  "People like us?" she asked, either not comprehending or playing dumb; I couldn't tell which.
  "Evolved humans, mutants, heroes; whatever label you want to use, it doesn't matter.  They find us, train us; they're trying to make a team to combat GaiaTech and the governments under its control," I explained.  I could tell from the look in Elsa's eye that I'd piqued her interest.
  "So there are others; I mean, besides me and Hellfire?" she asked.
  "Yes, and SERAPH wants as many as possible if they're going to bring GaiaTech down," I replied.
  "An interesting proposition," a voice from behind me said.  I turned around; a young man with a heavily bruised and cut face looked down at me.  Under all the injuries was a youthful complexion between two long bangs of hair that framed his face like curtains.
  "One I've heard many times over; I thought I told Dr. Anderson to stop pestering people about her little recruitment drive," the stranger finished.  I cocked an eyebrow and crossed my arms.
  "Cat, I presume?" I asked.
  "And your name?" he asked in reply.
  "Ghost," I replied.
  "Sure it is," he replied.
  "And like your real name is Cat," I scoffed.  Dr. Anderson had told me all about Cat; about how he had self-assurance bordering on arrogance, and only distrusted her and SERAPH because of his bad experiences with GaiaTech and other organisations.
  "Tropic, I wanted to talk to you about a job I have coming up," Cat muttered, looking right through me.  I bristled.
  "I do hope it's a legal operation you're thinking up," I said.
  "Run along, kid; the adults are talking," Cat retorted.  I turned on my heel and walked away, strutting around the corner before stopping abruptly.  I looked around, carefully shuffling a bit to the left so I was in a blind-spot where no cameras would see me.  Once I was sure there weren't any cameras spying on me, I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.
  A peculiar sensation ran through my body, like the sudden flash of cold you get after stepping into the snow from a heated room; however, rather than flow from front to back, the sensation trickled down from the top of my head down to my feet.  After the sensation reached my toes, I was free to relax and open my eyes.
  I held my hand up in front of my eyes; it was totally transparent.  There was a slight shimmer I saw when I flexed my fingers, like heat haze on a tarmac road, but you wouldn't see me if you weren't looking closely.  I did a quick inspection, and I found my entire body was completely invisible; my clothes and backpack too, courtesy of the special material that Dr. Anderson had helped make.
  Just as I was about to peer around the corner, Cat appeared.  We were practically nose-to-nose, and I forced myself to keep still as he surveyed the hallway.
  "Cat, you look like a complete twat; if you're so paranoid, we'll go somewhere else to talk!" Elsa hissed.  Cat nodded, and left; I put my head around the corner, watching as he walked with Elsa off down the hall.
  Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, I crept after them; I took special care to avoid bumping into people and objects, tailing the two of them while keeping a five-metre gap.
  "I don't care if you don't like them; how you treated that girl was just rude," Elsa snapped.  Cat wasn't too fussed by the outburst.
  "She's with SERAPH; they'd help us, for sure, but there's always an "in return for helping..." or a "you'll owe me one for this..." attached to everything," Cat said.  I bristled with anger, but made sure I didn't move too suddenly; if I did, I might give myself away.
  Elsa and Cat went to the outdoor courtyard on the hospital's fourth floor; the small, verdant space was ringed on all sides by buildings, and was quite a tranquil space for a hospital.  I walked around them, keeping a wide berth, before sitting on the ground with my back against the fountain in the centre of the courtyard; they perched on the opposite side of it.
  "So, where and when?  Give me the details," Elsa said.  Cat did a swift head-check, before leaning in close to Elsa.  I had to strain my ears to hear them.
  "During the Second Cold War, the Chinese military contracted a small biological-engineering firm to breed an army of supersoldiers.  The base was codenamed 'Lóng zhī cháo.'"
  "My Chinese is a little rusty," Elsa replied dryly.
  "'Dragon's Nest,'" Cat translated.
  "Cute," Elsa replied.
  "Now, most of the base's records were lost during the transition between the communist regime and the new, democratic government; however, GaiaTech must've found something about it because they're sending an elite team to investigate the base."
  "Why would they be doing that?" Elsa asked.
  "Well, this facility was one of the largest facilities used for the creation of the Deltians," Cat replied.  Elsa blanched, and I started too.
  "Deltians?  You're sure?"
  "Positive."
  "But that base would be a relic; what do they expect they'll find there?" Elsa asked.
  "That's the thing.  Dragon's Nest is the only Deltian facility with still-functioning security systems.  All of the other facilities related to the Deltian Program have been decommissioned, but Dragon's Nest runs on its own closed network and power grid; the security systems are still active, which leads GaiaTech to believe there must be something pretty valuable in there."
  "Like a back-up of the project's research and files?"
  "Or a real-live Deltian," Cat pointed out.
  "But, wait; weren't they all killed?"
  "All but two," Cat replied.
  "And GaiaTech thinks one of them is in there?" Elsa asked.
  "Having a real specimen would make continuing the program so much easier than working from notes; if they got their hands on a Deltian, or even the project's research, they'd be able to clone their own private army!"
  I stood up abruptly and rolled my shoulders; I didn't know why, but that was how I "turned off" my invisibility.  Elsa gaped at me as I stepped out of thin air.
  "Well, now I'm definitely interested," I said.  Cat groaned.
  "Is a little privacy too much to ask for?" he sighed in exasperation.
  "Hey, you're talking about a top-secret mission half the world away around a girl who can turn invisible; you're practically begging to be eavesdropped on!" I retorted.
  "Well, regardless, I don't want or need your help!" Cat snapped.  I smirked.
  "Oh, really?  Care to describe what sort of defences this "Dragon's Nest" place has?" I asked.  Cat's expression fell slightly.
  "Fifteen autonomous rail-gun turrets," he replied.
  "Specs?" I asked.  Cat groaned, covering his eyes.
  "They're equipped with motion and thermal sensors, predictive-tracking systems with an operational range of seven-hundred metres and they fire .50-caliber armour-piercing, explosive rounds at ten-thousand rounds per minute," he grumbled.  I nodded, crossing my arms.
  "Well, lightning-fast you may be, but you won't get within three-hundred metres of that base without getting turned into Swiss cheese!" I said.
  "I know," Cat grumbled.  I pointed at Elsa without uncrossing my arms.
  "And her regeneration won't save her from that amount of flying metal," I added.
  "I know," he growled.
  "You can help us, then?" Elsa asked.  I nodded.
  "My power lets me avoid all sorts of detection including the obvious visual; I can hide from thermal sensors, and I'm not tangible enough to trip motion sensors.  I can bypass those turrets for you," I said.
  "And you're just going to do this out of the goodness of your heart?" Cat asked dryly.  I smiled bashfully, before turning serious.
  "All I'm asking is you give SERAPH one chance; I get you into that base, and you agree to at least tour our facility.  If you don't like what you see, we'll let both of you leave and never pester you again," I replied.
  It was a gamble, one that I knew I wasn't authorised to make.  Oh well.
  Cat, though he didn't look pleased, nodded after a few seconds of thought.  He glared at me, making it clear he didn't like the situation.
  "I don't care how high on the pecking order you are at SERAPH; this is my mission, therefore you follow my orders.  That goes for you too, Elsa; you don't have any combat experience, I do."  I shrugged.
  "I'm green as grass as far as my experience with SERAPH is concerned; that doesn't mean I'm gonna follow you around like some big-eyed puppy!" I said.
  "Fine," Cat retorted.  I nodded, before turning to Elsa.
  "So, when do we leave and from where?" she asked.
  "I've got two tickets on a flight out of Heathrow first thing in the morning--"
  "First class, I hope?" I butted in, unable to help myself.  If looks could kill, the glare that Cat gave me would've left me dead before I hit the floor.
  "No, you're flying coach; I may be a vigilante, but I'm not Bruce Wayne!" Cat said.  I frowned, not recognising the name.
  "Batman," Elsa put in.
  "Oh," I replied, before motioning for Cat to continue.
  "Anyway, you'll be flying direct from Heathrow to Islamabad; I'll be meeting you guys there, and we'll go direct to Dragon's Nest from there.  Questions?"
  "What time is 'first thing in the morning'?" I asked.
  "Four-thirty," Cat said.  He let out a smirk when he saw my dismayed expression.
  "Not a morning person, are you?" he asked innocently.
  "No shit, smartass," I retorted.
  "You want on this mission?  Show up for the flight, because I'm not piggy-backing you across Europe and the Middle East!"
  "Fine; I'll see you tomorrow morning then, Elsa?" I asked.
  "Sure," the green-haired girl smiled.  I then turned to Cat.
  "See you in Islamabad, I guess," I replied.
  "Ooh, I can't wait," he said sarcastically, grimacing as though he had a bad taste in his mouth.
  With that, I left.  I made my way out of the courtyard, walking back into the corridor and towards the elevator...
  Something made me pause, my finger only millimetres from the button.  It was something that I couldn't describe; a 'sixth sense' was what Dr. Anderson had called it, after I did my best to describe it to her.
  It was easy for me to hone in on the source of the trigger; at SERAPH there were multiple, while there was only one in here, so it was easier to focus on it.  I followed the subtle urging of the sense in my head, until I found myself standing, strangely, outside the door to the intensive care ward.
  "Crap," I said out-loud.
  You weren't allowed in there, unless you had 'Doctor' or 'PhD' in your name.  But it was no problem for me; I simply closed my eyes, and let the cold chill wash over my body, flushing my body of colour and turning me as transparent as cling wrap.
  I only had to wait a minute or so for a nurse to barge through the door out of the ward; I slipped in before it closed behind her, taking care not to make too much noise as I walked down the hallway.
  The urge pulling me along was stronger now, closer; after half a minute of searching, I found the source.
  Alone in one of the rooms was a young girl, propped up on pillows and rigged with all sorts of tubes; her vitals were low, I noticed, comatose.  Half of her face was covered in bandages, and there were small cuts and bruises on her skin.
  Why was I drawn to her...? I began to ask myself, before I stopped.
  This was the girl that Hellfire had maimed!
  I crossed the room to her bedside, and leaned close over her.  The tugging sensation was now so strong that it was like my brain was trying to push its way out of the front of my skull.
  "Impossible!"
  It couldn't be; it had to be the recent contact with Hellfire, some tissue of his lingering in the wound or something...
  "Jesus!"
  That's it; it would be the tissue in the wound...
  Make sure, I thought as I tried to stay professional.  I ransacked a couple of cupboards until I found a few empty syringes.  I took one from its package and took the cap off the tip; almost forgetting, I grabbed an alcohol wipe and rubbed a small section of her forearm.  Trying to be gentle, though not really sure what I was doing, I slid the needle into her arm and began to extract some blood.
  I filled the syringe to about halfway, before removing it from her arm and taping a cotton ball over the wound; I removed the specimen container from the needle, and placed it in my pocket, making a mental note to get Dr. Anderson to look at it as soon as I got back...